Harry Potter had a strong sense of deja vu as he was tossed out of the twirling green flames and into Dumbledore's office. As he removed himself from the floor, his eyes were drawn the crimson plumage of the phoenix. Dumbledore's voice echoed in Harry's mind, telling him that phoenixes were highly loyal creatures. Ron was loyal, Harry thought miserably. And the flaming red hair of the elegant bird did not distract him from his thoughts of Ron. Instead, they intensified as Harry absorbed the similarities in the color of the phoenix and Ron's hair.
Twice. Twice! He thought bitterly. Twice had Harry led his friends to danger by dragging them into the department of Mysteries. But this time, it wasn't in a vain attempt at being noble, to save somebody's life. It was out of Harry's loneliness.
Last time he was in this office, Harry had smashed objects in his outrage of both being tricked by Voldemort, and the pain of losing his Godfather, Sirius Black. And now, he'd lost Ron. Now however, he couldn't bear to destroy the clicking silver objects upon the desk. He couldn't add that guilt to the results of this escapade.
He thought of his 4th year, when they had taken Ron as a hostage for the Triwizard Championship. They had known, even then, that Ron would be the thing that Harry would miss the most. And after two years of close contact with Ronald Weasley, he'd lost him. Harry could simply not imagine Ron's empty bed in the dormitory, or to imagine the absence of sarcasm from his life.
Harry was distracted from staring quite furiously at Fawkes the Phoenix, to the noise of a swishing cloak, directly behind him. Turning to face him, Harry saw the ancient face of Albus Dumbledore. Though he was old, judging from the color of his long hair and beard, he remained unstooped, and gave the impression of great vitality, unlike many of the age of over 100.
"Aw... Harry, last year, in my office of this time, you were destroying many objects I own. Why are you not destroying my personal possessions?" He asked kindly, before he sat at his desk, and beckoned Fawkes to sit on his lap, where he began petting the scarlet head.
"It's my fault Professor. I-I really wa-needed to talk to Sirius." Harry stammered, sitting opposite Dumbledore, staring at the polished surface of the desk. He couldn't say he wanted to talk with Sirius, as if it wasn't important. It would belittle Ron's death.
"And how would you do that, Mr. Potter?" He asked, in a gentle tone, gazing at him calmly, as he had last year.
"Sirius gave me two mirrors to communicate with him, last year. For Christmas, I think. And you know he went through the veil, I thought if I were to toss a mirror into it, I could talk with him." Harry admitted, as though he were embarassed by his thoughts. He should have known it was too simple. And now... Harry drew a deep breath.
"And did it?" Dumbledore asked again, still gentle.
How could he be so damn calm! Ron's dead! And Mr. and Mrs. Weasley will blame me! They'll all hate me!
"No, sir. It just went out through the other side." Harry added, bowing his head, so that his untidy hair was blocking Dumbledore's blue eyes out of view.
"Harry, only animate objects could pass through the veil. That is the flaw in your, otherwise, ingenius plan. Continue." Dumbledore added, knowing how the night's events had gone so terribly wrong.
Harry glanced a look, and saw, a faint smile across Dumbledore's lips. How could he smile?
"We were about to return by Floo powder when the Death Eaters came. We saw them. Some saw us, and ran. Most, though, came after us. We escaped to the Department of Mysteries, hoping that we'd be discovered gone and somebody would find us before they got to us. We got separated when a Death Eater, Rookwood, I think, cast a reductor spell, which shattered so many prophecies and shelves that we ran in all directions. We... l-lost Ron." Harry choked on the last sentence.
I've lost my best friend, and I've lost the only way I could ever hope to see or talk with Sirius.
"Were you able to find Ron, before you left?" Harry asked desperately, hoping Ron had been knocked unconscious or something, and hidden under rumble, that he wasn't dead, as Harry had assumed. He wanted to be able to look Ginny in the eye, or any Weasley, for that matter.
"The search has indeed been completed. There was no Ronald Weasley at the Department of Mysteries, or on any floor in the ministry of magic."
A sharp intake of breath from Harry. He's gone through the veil, just like Sirius- Or...
"Sir, what if some of the Death Eaters captured him!" Harry asked suddenly, as the thought occurred to him. "What if they torture him?"
"The Ronald Weasley you know no longer exists. I will tell you that Ron didn't die on this night. And he has not been captured. "
Some of the horrible guilt that had seized him had been lifted. "But where is he, Professor?"
"Talking with you." Dumbledore said, leaning back in his chair, with a wide smile on his face.
"You can't be Ron." Harry said simply.
"Why not, Harry?"
"Because Ron is, well, Ron. And you're Albus Dumbledore, one of the greatest wizards of the age!" Harry yelled, unable to think of a better argument.
"No, Harry, I am Ron. That is how I was able to watch more closely than you could ever imagine. I knew everything you trusted to Ron. I knew that the Dursleys would be horrible to you when I dropped you on their doorstep, 16 years ago. I knew, because I had heard all about Dudley beating you, and the verbal abuse you suffered, Dudley's diets, and etcetra, from you, when I was your best friend."
"It's no secret about how much I don't like the Dursleys! You could probably have been passing me in the Great Hall when I was complaining about them!"
"Why would I eavesdrop on you when there is so much better gossip at the teacher's table?" He asked mildly.
Harry decided he didn't want to know what the teacher's talked about over breakfast.
"Harry, I knew I was condemning you." Dumbledore continued. "Do you remember, in the chamber, when Riddle said that Dumbledore didn't seem to respect or trust him as much as all the other teachers? That's because I knew who he would become. I knew he would grow to murder my best friend's parents, and leave him miserable until he came to Hogwarts."
"Yeah, well, if you knew about Riddle becoming Voldemort, why didn't you stop it?" Harry asked viciously. "Why didn't you stop the deaths of my parents?"
"If I had stopped it, I would have ceased to exist. Then Voldemort would have free reign, because I didn't exist to stop him from becoming Voldemort."
Harry tried to make sense of the previous sentence.
"Harry, you've dealt with time travel, however briefly. You know that you can only do things in the past that you have already done. I couldn't go back in time to make Voldemort have a loving supportive family, because it wasn't done in this time. Do you understand?"
"I understand, but you could have made life so much simpler."
"No, I couldn't, Harry, because Dumbledore hadn't solved the problems when we were in school together. Now, let me show you something that should convince you of my identity."
Dumbledore began shuffling in his desk, finally pulling out the ancient pensieve. Setting his wand next to his hair, he removed a silvery strand of thought and added it to the many swirling thoughts in the pensieve. "Have a look," Dumbledore suggested. "There are quite a few of them, though." He warned.
Harry moved closer to the pensieve, to look at the image inside. There was- Ron? Except it couldn't have been Ron, because Ron would never wear cloaks of that shade, a deep maroon, as it was Ron's least favorite color. Also, the boy was too far away, and -Harry's nose finally touched the surface of the image, sending him into the memory. Ron was beside him, and he was watching the boy incredulously.
"Oy, get away from there!" Ron yelled, at the boy who looked so similiar to him. The boy quit inspecting the veil (Harry's heart sank with grief) and stared at Ron for a moment before he walked calmly over to him.
"A doppleganger, eh? I must say, we look very similar... Who are you?" The Ron look-a-like asked, while closely inspecting the slightly tattered robes of Ron.
"A- what? Look, that isn't important, we need to get out of here. There are Death Eaters around, and that-" Ron pointed at the flowing veil, "is no better. We need to go!" Ron insisted.
"What is a Death Eater?" "Ron" asked calmly.
"You-know-who's followers!" Ron said exasperatedly, trying to tug on the boy's sleeve, but the boy remained where he was.
"Who?"
Ron let go of the boy's sleeve. All Ron could do was blink. Harry could understand why. It was hard to imagine a person who didn't know who "you-know-who" was. Harry remembered suddenly that even his aunt and uncle, who hated magic in all forms, even knew who "you-know-who" was.
"V-v... Voldemort." Ron stuttered. Harry was silently impressed. It was the first time in Harry's memory that Ron had said Voldemort's name, preferring to refer to him as "you-know-who".
"Never heard of him," the boy replied, returning his gaze to the veil. "How is this a frightening object to you? Do you think it evil?"
"Who are you!" Ron demanded, seemingly unaware of his previous plight. Unaware that he had been seperated from Harry and Hermione, and unaware of the Death Eaters who had chased him into the room of time, where he had disappeared from their sights after knocking himself out by running very hard into a wall. All Ron seemed to care about at this moment was finding out who this mysteriously calm boy was, standing next to the veil, and admiring it.
"My name is Albus Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, and you?" He answered politely. Harry's heart leapt at the answer. So this, this must be the real Dumbledore! He thought.
"Dumbledore?" The name seemed to remind Ron of everything. "Sir, you have to help me. Harry, Hermione, and me came to chuck a mirror into the veil, but it went through and then the Death Eaters came and I lost Harry and Hermione!" Harry noticed a sort of panic in Ron's voice that hadn't been there before.
"You still haven't answered the only question I asked you." Albus Dumbledore responded.
Ron looked at Dumbledore for a moment before he answered. "Ron Weasley, from Hogwarts? My mum and dad are in the Order? Remember now?"
"Ron, I believe that this is the first time we have met. Why, though, did you want to chuck a mirror into this beautiful piece of fabric? "
Ron looked shocked. The color drained from his face. "What?"
"I mean, why would you want to harm this material?"
"We didn't want to harm it. Harry, needed to talk with Sir- Snuffles, and he died by going through the veil, so Harry thought he would be able to talk with him if he chucked it into the veil."
"Silly. You can't die by going through the veil." Then to Ron's (and Harry's) horror Albus Wulfric Brian Dumbledore walked through the veil.
Ron, who had looked pale before, looked ashen now. He looked around.
"Okay, very funny joke Harry, Hermione. Just come out and we can go back." He called, and his voice echoed in the empty room.
When neither Harry nor Hermione had jumped out from behind the archway or from the other doors, Ron pinched himself, while muttering "it's only a dream." When pinching himself didn't work, he began to slap himself across the face. His skin soon turned red in the area where it had been slapped.
Ron sank to his knees. Harry knew he had to be worried: Harry was, and he knew things would work out (at least relatively) fine.
"I'm alone in the Department of Mysteries, Dumbledore is dead, I've lost Harry and Hermione. Plus there's Death Eaters swarming this place." Ron assessed. "I've never been more screwed in my life. Plus that veil is giving me the creeps." Ron added, as the veil blew in the stationary air. Ron remained silent for another moment, and then... "How could Dumbledore just walk through there? He would have known the danger... unless that wasn't Dumbledore...?"
More silence. Ron's eyes darted across the room.
"I need to leave this place. The Death Eaters will find me if I don't. Maybe I'll find Harry or Hermione." Ron muttered to himself as he got to his feet. The concept of finding Harry and Hermione seemed to give him strength, as he began to walk boldly away from the veil.
Colors began to swirl as the setting changed to the Atrium, far above the Department of Mysteries. Harry was standing next to Ron, who was blinking at the busyness of the place. There were many wizards lined up to travel by Floo powder, and many were arriving by the same means.
Suddenly, a voice shouted: "Oh, Albus, honey, you're alright!" It was from a short woman with pale blue eyes. The real Dumbledore's mother apparently.
Ron said nothing, but his eyebrows were raised in surprise.
"Oh, why are you here? You left us at the Leaky Cauldren, dear. You gave your father and me quite a scare. 'Did you leave for Hogwarts already?' we thought, but it's still August, you couldn't have left," She began speaking. She said all of this rather breathlessly. She pulled Ron into a tight hug.
"It's August?" Ron asked when he had broken the hug rather soon. "I thought it was June?"
"Did you hit your head?" Dumbledore's mother asked, and pulled Ron forward, inspecting his head for lumps.
Something had changed in Ron's eyes, though, after his most recent comment. Harry could practically feel Ron putting it together: a young Dumbledore, a different, a dead Dumbledore, a different date...
"What year is it?"
"1846," The woman answered promptly.
"And... I'm Albus Wulfric Brian... Dumbledore?" Ron asked slowly.
"Yes, deary. My, you must have hit your head! Come with me, and we'll take you to buy your school things. You need a good present for being made Head Boy! I hope you know how proud of you we are..." Harry stopped listening to what she was saying, opting to instead stare at Ron's face.
Ron began to follow her and the colors began to swirl as the scene changed again.
Now, Harry saw the familiar sight of Diagon Alley. Ron, as Albus, was talking to "his" mother, about how to arrive at Hogwarts, as there wasn't a train for it yet, apparently. He was now playing along with hitting his head from how simple it had been, and he was making it so complicated. A small boy of 5 was watching Ron with envy, as he tugged on his mother's hand.
"No, Aberforth. Albus is of age now. He can go shopping by himself. You don't need to accompany him. We trust you, Albus."She said as she handed him a pouch of Galleons.
Harry followed Ron around Diagon Alley, as he purchased everything on his list. He bought brand new books, and as he walked around, he carried them carefully, as if afraid he were going to destroy them if he touched them too hard, or if they hit the ground. Ron probably wanted his books immaculate because he had never had brand new books before, and also probably wasn't sure how to treat them.
At Quality Quidditch Supplies Ron looked at Cannon's merchandise, but bought none of it, even though he had the money. "You can trust me, "mum'." Ron said aloud after leaving the store.
As he returned to the Leaky Cauldren, Ron and Harry spotted a man with silvery blonde hair leading a small boy into Knocturn Alley.
"Malfoy?" Ron asked incredulously, as Harry asked the same thing. Ron began chasing after him,while Harry followed closely, forgetting that the Malfoys were nothing but dark wizards.
"Malfoy!" He shouted again. This time, both the man and the boy turned to face him, as Ron (and Harry) scrambled to catch up.
"Yes...?" The unfamiliar man asked. He was well dressed and had the sneer that Draco Malfoy usually carried upon his lips. Neither were familiar looking Malfoys though. Harry supposed that was probably a good sign, because Lucious had been a Death Eater at the Department of Mysteries.
Ron looked at the boy and the man. "I'm sorry, but I thought I knew you..."
"But you do, I'm afraid. For that is indeed what I am called. Malfoy." The man said suspiciously.
"Uh... never mind." Ron muttered, before he ran off in the opposite direction. Harry watched the Malfoys, and heard "Filthy mudblood lover" escape from the lips of the elder Malfoy before the colors swirled again.
Harry saw the town of Hogsmeade. He recognized it only by the sign of the Hog's Head, as the town was smaller than what he was used to, although he realized it wasn't all that small. Zonko's joke shop was significantly smaller, and Honeyduke's didn't seem so elaborate from the outside. But he was being pulled away from these images, and it took Harry a minute to figure out why.
Ron was running away from the heart of the village. He was heading toward the outskirts of town. There were less houses appearing on Harry's sides now. Ron was still running foreward, looking frantically for something. "Please... be here." Harry heard Ron pant as he ran by his side.
He stopped suddenly. Staring a patch of woods. "It's not... It's not here." Harry realized that Ron must have been looking for the Shrieking Shack at that moment. He knew that it had been built when Dumbledore became Headmaster. This would be proof he was in a time before Dumbledore.
"So, I really have gone back... and I'm Albus Dumbledore." Ron whispered to himself, beginning his journey back to Hogsmeade, out of breath and red in the face. "But, how did I get to be so... powerful? I'm not Hermione, I'm not Harry. That would make more sense. Hermione's bloody brilliant, and Harry's pretty damn good for a midget in glasses, at least in Defense Against the Dark Arts."
He continued walking in silence for awhile. Harry walking beside him, not wasting his breath because he knew that Ron wouldn't hear him through the memory, thought if he could, he probably would have thanked him or tried to point out that he wasn't nearly as much of a migdet as he used to be.
Ron stopped. "From this day, September 1st, 1846, I renounce the name Ronald W-weasley. I am now Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. Percival will be in memory of Percy, because to be Head Boy, I'll have to start imitating him." He began walking again.
Harry felt pride swelling in him, because Ron was going to take this responsiblity. He would have to become the most powerful wizard of his time.
"Brian!" A girl yelled. Albus, more from shock of having a name yelled when he was nearly the only person in view then from actually thinking he was being called, looked around. "Brian!" The voice came again, but this time Harry could see who yelled it.
She was short, with long dark wavy hair, wearing Hogwarts robes. She ran up to Albus, and- hugged him. Albus, looking awkward, patted her on the back, similiar to when Hermione had had a breakdown.
"Oh, you're Head Boy! How perfect! I'm Head Girl!" She pointed at the badge. "Mother and Father were so proud after I explained it to them." Perhaps at this moment she had noticed Albus's less than rapt attention. Or the puzzled look in his eyes. "What's wrong?" She asked, looking concerned.
"I'm sorry... but I lost, er, well... I forgot everything."
"What? You lost your stuff, is that what you mean?" She looked at him quizically.
"Like who the headmaster is, who all the teachers are, and who you are." At this last part the girl looked rather hurt. Harry remembered how Ron had never really understood girls. Hermione had always said so, but Harry thought Ron had phrased it quite well, for being Ron at least.
"How?" She asked. Harry could see her eyes glittering more than they were when she was talking about being Head Girl.
"I dunno." Albus answered. "Hey, do we have to meet with the Headmaster or something before school officially starts?" He looked desperate to change the conversation.
"Yeah, should we go together?" She asked. Harry noticed that she wiped her face with a sleeve before she answered.
They set off together. Then: "So, can you help me remember stuff? And not just about the school," Albus said with a slight smile.
The girl seemed exstaticac at his request. "My name is Abagail."
Harry smiled. "Hermione, you'd be proud of him. Maybe he listened." Harry muttered as the Albus's and Abagail's backs faded and colors swirled.
Albus's first class was NEWT level potions. It was in the dungeons, like Snape's was, but the teacher had made the classroom and the class not so horrible, mainly because she wasn't Snape. In fact, she seemed to be the opposite of what Snape was: supportive, funny, and helpful. Instead of focusing only on the negative, she'd point out how to remedy it. Harry was strongly reminded of a female Lupin.
"Okay class. It is time to begin learning about Strengthening Solutions. They will most likely be on your N.E.W.T.s so it is very important that you know about them." The instructions appeared on the boards, like Snape's did, but she made sure to remind the class to read them througholy before they began.
Albus's mouth was open in shock. Harry was surpised to see this specific potion in N.E.W.T. level potions. They had done it their 5th year!
Albus raised his hand. The teacher came to him almost instantly. "Is one of my instructions ambigious, Mr. Dumbledore?" It wasn't sarcasm. It sounded like she respected him, and was asking for his geniuine imput.
"No, Professor. It's just... didn't we do this 5th year?" He asked, looking at her.
"5th year and doing Strengthening Solutions? I hope not! This an advanced potion. When I was in school, this was the second to last potion we were taught because of it's difficulty." Harry grinned. The teacher only looked like she had been out of school for a few years.
"Okay. Must have been a dream." Albus said, before beginning on his potion.
He didn't see the entire classroom looking at him with puzzled expressions on their faces.
If the Potions professor had been the opposite of Snape, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was Snape. He even looked like Snape, except his shoulder length black hair was tied in a ponytail.
He began by handing out a pop quiz to all the students. Albus was answering the questions on the paper calmly, while other students were looking at the walls hoping that they would be reminded of the answers from the them.
Harry stole a peek at Albus's quiz. "What are the characteristics of a werewolf?" "What are the Unforgivable Curses?" "What is a dementer?" "Name as many curses and countercurses as you can."
Harry honestly thought that the quiz was easy enough. Except for naming the curses, he could see how this could be difficult.
Albus didn't seem to have any difficulty, though. He had written down nearly everything that Harry had taught him in DA. He seemed bored, almost, adding details to his paper when he had added everything that Harry had said in DA.
The Snape look-a-like came swooping down the aisle's taking the quizzes aggressively. "We will start reviewing at our next meeting. Then you shall be handed the results from your quiz. I hope that you all did well." He said, looking around the classroom, where the students averted their gaze upon eye contact. He began looking at the tests.
"Albus Dumbledore, stay after class please." He said as the bell rang.
He waited for every other person to leave the classroom before speaking, fortuneately that wasn't long. He wasn't liked much, just like the real Snape.
"You cheated." He said calmly.
"No." Albus replied.
"How else could you know so many curses? Some of these don't even exist... Bat-Boogy hex, or some nonsense like that."
"Maybe you just don't know they exist."
At this, the professor looked at him very harshly. "I'm a professor at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, I am VERY capable in my magic."
"I'm sure I've met better." Albus muttered, obvoiusly not liking being accused of both making up spells and cheating.
"Detention Dumbledore." He said icily. "You'll be scrubbing bedpans in the hospital wing without magic."
"Fine... professor." He walked out of the classroom quickly. "Slimy git." He muttered under his breath, just like Ron used to after Snape had acted harshly towards the Gryffindors, or favored the Slytherins obnoxiously.
"You know, you're not being yourself." Abagail said in Transfiguration. "I mean, you suggest that we've done N.E.W.T. level potions before we did our O.W.L.s and you got yourself detention!"
They were reveiwing turning teapots in turtles, as it was N.E.W.T. level. Albus had found it easy, as most of the class did. Abagail sat next to him. "He accused me of making up spells, and cheating." Albus said defensively. "Trust me, cleaning bedpans by hand sucks. I've done it before. I wouldn't have risked detention for any other reason."
Harry remembered when Ron had defended Hermione in their 3rd year, when Snape had called her a know-it-all, ironically subsituting for a defense against the dark arts teacher. His punishment had been the same.
"Well, did you make up spells?" She asked timidly.
"No, they exist. I should have offered to perform a few on him." Abagail giggled a little.
"You've changed, Albus."
Harry found himself staring at Griselda Marchbanks when the colors quit swirling. Or at least that who he thought she was. The last time he had seen her she was much older. Now she was young, maybe not young enough to be confused with some of the older students, like the potions teacher was, but there were few wrinkles on her face, and colored hair.
"Okay, Mr. Dumbledore. I've heard rumors that you can do things nobody else can do... do you want to show me, perhaps for an extra point?"
"How about a Patronous?" He asked, before bellowing the incantation, and a silver corperal phoenix erupted from the wand.
"Amazing, simply amazing. Anything else?" She asked, with surprise in her eyes.
Albus didn't seem to notice the students staring at him, as he grinned and raised his wand again.
"I should thank you." Albus said to Abagail. "If it wasn't for you being so willing to help me out and spend so much time in the library, I could'nt have learned so much." It sounded almost rehearsed to Harry, and it probably was, because Ron hadn't been big on apologies or formal thank yous.
"And I should thank you, for defending my... lineage. That was very sweet." She said, before she kissed him gently on the lips. "I must say though, I wasn't expecting a thank you for that. I studied just as hard as you did, but you progressed faster than me. Thanks for helping me."
Harry knew that Albus's ears were red.
The scene was much different than the one he had just witnessed. He was in the great hall, watching Dumbledore, but this was a much older Dumbledore. He had a long beard, and his hair was long, but it was still auborn.
He was calling out the names for the first years. Apparently, he had McGonagol's job.
"Riddle, Tom!." A shudder traveled through Harry as he watched this small boy with dark hair, nearly shaking with nervousness, climb upon the stool and put the Sorting hat upon his head. This boy, sitting so innocently on the chair, was to become the most evil and renowned sorcerer most would ever know.
"Slytherin!" The hat called after a moment.
Dumbledore watched the small boy replace the hat on the stool, then headed towards the Slytherin table.
When he called the next name, Harry noticed how deep his voice had become. It was nothing like Harry had remembered. However, there was a certain kind of wisdom and sadness emitted from it.
Dumbledore was still staring at Tom Riddle.
The colors swirled to reveal Dumbledore's office, absent of all the silver instruments that had been scattered in his office eariler. There were pictures of past headmasters upon the walls, not bothering to pretend to rest.
Harry saw Dumbledore, looking rather calm, despite the fact that the other two men in the room, Dippet and a man Harry had never seen before were both livid and facing Dumbledore.
"Are you insane, Albus?" The stranger asked. "You're risking it all for this baffoon?"
"I do not see it in Hagrid's character to want to 'purge' the school of muggle-borns. Therefore, I do not believe he opened the Chamber of Secrets." Dumbledore said.
Harry's heart leapt. This is the moment when Hagrid would forever be in Dumbledore's debt.
"Still, you are saying that you will also break your wand in two if there is solid proof that Hagrid has opened the Chamber of Secrets. That's not a petty thing, Albus." Dippet said solemnly.
"I know, but I also know that my wand is not in any danger, because Hagrid is innocent."
"Are you saying that Riddle lied? He practically caught him in the act!" The stranger yelled.
"I do believe that Riddle caught the wrong man. If Hagrid was with a monster capable of murder, why didn't he kill Riddle to keep his secret safe? It would have meant little to man who had already killed." Dumbledore continued calmly.
"I see the logic in that, but Hagrid still needs to be expelled. He brought a potentionally lethal creature into the castle." Dippet said. "Sorry, Albus."
"The ministry will not send him to Azkaban, because of your testimony, Albus." The stranger said. He must be the Minister of Magic, Harry thought.
"I suggest Hagrid be allowed to stay here, though." Dumbledore said softly.
There was a pause. Then Dippet asked, "Why?"
"Hagrid is strong, and young. We need a gamekeeper, or simply someone to look after the grounds. He would stick out too much in Muggle society, and is too young to survive on his own to survive in our world. I suggest the position of gamekeeper until he comes of age, if he does a good job and is willing to become the gamekeeper." Dumbledore suggested.
"What about after he is of age?"
"If he wants to continue with his position here, he can. It is better than becoming a thief, or a smuggler." He added pointedly looking at the Minister.
"You make excellent points, but if this specific situation arises again, we'll have no choice but to take Hagrid away." The Minister said.
"Understood."
"You may tell Hagrid yourself, Albus. I must speak with the Minister." Dippet said, dismissing Dumbledore.
Dumbledore left the office, and waiting immediately outside, was Hagrid.
Harry noticed that Hagrid was shaking like mad.
"I am sorry to say that you are expelled. Howe-" Dumbledore began.
"Well, thanks fer tryin', professor. You've bin kind to me. I've gotta go pack up my stuff." He turned to walk away.
"You are welcome to stay at Hogwarts though, under the position of gamekeeper." Dumbledore finished.
When Dumbledore spoke, Hagrid whirled around. "Can I really!" Dumbledore nodded. He pulled Dumbledore into a tight hug.
Harry could have sworn that he saw Dumbledore's eyes bulging a bit.
Harry wondered how many memories were in this pensieve, because now he was staring Snape. This was before he became a professor though, Harry could tell. His face was smoother, his hair thicker, and his clothing different.
"Why have you come here, Severus?" Dumbledore asked Snape calmly.
"I wish to spy for... for the people fighting the Dark Lord." He said, looking into Dumbledore's eyes.
"I meant, why, Severus? Why do you wish to switch to our side?" Dumbledore asked.
"I can be an asset. I am an Occulmens, so I can lie and feed the Dark Lord misinformation. I realized, sir, that the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord can never triumph. Their loyalty stems from fear and a desire for power. That is no true loyalty." Harry noticed that Snape's eyes never left Dumbledore's.
"Why did you join in the first place, Severus?" Dumbledore asked.
"I joined for several reasons. I joined because I wanted power, but to get power you have to do... horrible things. I had been picked on, in school, as you are quite aware, so I did want revenge on those who tormented me, but I realized that the Dark Lord was no better than Potter and Black. Except he wanted to bully everyone, while Potter and Black just bullied me." Snape said this softly, as if he were embarrassed by it. "Also, a mentor, Lucius, encouraged it."
There was a pause, as if Dumbledore were considering what to say to Snape's reasoning. Finally, he spoke, "I trust you, Severus Snape."
Snape walked over to Dumbledore and extended his hand.
The colors stopped, and Harry found his gaze upon... himself? Except he was younger, much younger. In his hand was his father's invisibility cloak, and the Mirror of Erised. Harry was staring quite fixedly at the mirror, until Dumbledore spoke.
Harry saw himself leave the room, after the completed conversation. He remembered how personal of a question he had asked Dumbledore, and now Harry wondered, if want Dumbledore really did want, was socks.
Fortunately for his curiosity, Dumbledore was looking in the mirror. Dumbledore was indeed holding socks, but he was holding the maroon socks with distaste, and then he offered them to Dobby, who suddenly appeared from behind- Hermione? Harry saw himself standing next to Ron, for indeed, Dumbledore wasn't old in this, but the 16 year old Ron. Harry noticed that he was wearing a Weasley sweater, which really did show off his green eyes.
Hermione and Abagail were talking, Abagail's hair done up, and looking very pretty, while Hermione looked her usual self. Harry could see the nose of a dog poking past the outstretched socks... Sirius? And then Harry moved and the entire Weasley family was behind him.
"Aw... to be surrounded by those we love, that is far better than any gold or immortality." Dumbledore said to himself.
"Harry, have you seen enough?" The authentic Dumbledore asked.
Harry nodded, and saw the memory of Dumbledore reach out and touch a part of the mirror...
"So, Harry, are you convinced?" Dumbledore asked kindly, sitting again at his desk.
"Sir, I'm convinced, but I have some questions." Harry said politely.
"And what are those?"
Which question should he ask first? Should he ask why he'd been so quick to trust Snape when he had hated him all those years, should he ask about how he had been able to convince Dippet and the old Minister of Magic how Hagrid should have been freed. Abagail, he thought suddenly.
"How... Did you see Abagail after school?"
"Harry, I married her. She was the first person I met that went to the school. I quit pretending to be Albus Dumbledore around her. And she liked me, as Ronald Weasley, but I was still Albus Dumbledore. But... she liked Ron, who I really was."
Harry thought that maybe his question had been too personal.
"She was muggle-born, you know."
"I guessed." Harry said simply.
"I think I may have wanted to help protect her from Tom Riddle by marrying her." Dumbledore said.
"But she was before his time."
"So was I, in theory at least." The twinkle returned to Dumbledore's eyes. "She could have lived to be alive when Tom was, and he could have killed her."
"Did he?" Harry asked, intruiged.
"She was killed, by dark wizards, but I really am the cause of her death." Harry looked puzzled. "We were Aurors. That's what we were trained for, to catch dark wizards. However, I knew I needed to become the Transfiguration teacher at least by when Tom Riddle had entered school. I did this as soon as the position became available. She continued being an Auror.
"We had talked about children. We both wanted a rather large family, but I wanted my children to avoid any comments that may have been made by the Malfoys of this time. 'I want to be able to provide my children, with new clothes and books that were never provided for me' I said to her. She looked at me, rather oddly, because Albus Dumbledore had grown up without dealing with taped wands and too short pajamas."
"If she would have been home, raising children, she wouldn't have died."
"Professor, that's not your fault." Harry said.
"Maybe. Do you have any other questions?"
"How were you able to trust Snape so quickly?" Harry asked, glad this question wasn't about Abagail.
"Severus Snape wants to be seen as a powerful wizard. Admitting that two students were the cause of torment to him for several years shows him weak and defenseless. As one who had a desire to be a powerful wizard, this would go against everything he had worked up, at least as far as his repetuation goes. I also knew that Severus will spy for the Order. And how he saved your, our, lives more than once. I'm also repenting, for hating him so diligently while in school." Dumbledore smiled.
"You're trusting him now because you thought of him as an ass in school?" Harry asked incredulously.
"That's one of my many reasons, Harry."
"Why did they take your word about Hagrid so seriously?" Harry asked, vowing for it to be his final question.
"I was a respected wizard by then, Harry. Abagail and I were well-liked, successful Aurors. People knew that I wasn't about to support somebody that I thought could have been evil, or with the Dark Arts in any way. He was still expelled, though. My reach can only extend so far."
"What should I tell Hermione?" Harry asked, breaking his vow.
"You can tell her the truth, or you could tell her that Professor Dumbledore is quite sure that Ronald Weasley is perfectly alive and will have a pleasant life." He said gently.
"And did Ronald Weasley have a pleasant life?" Harry asked.
Dumbledore smiled. "Ronald Weasley ceased to exist when I became Albus Dumbledore. However, when I was in my 1st year, I desired to be superior to everyone else. To be more respected than my brothers, that was my goal. Why? I had always been overshadowed by them. I became one of the most powerful wizards of the time, rivaled, apparently only by Lord Voldemort. And I knew that Ronald Weasley, my younger self respected me. That's pleasant, to know that the child you were respects what you will become. And as I aged, my desire was to be with the people I loved the most. You, Hermione, Abagail... I missed Snuffles, I missed my family. I missed the people who I could never really be with, because it would look...odd if Albus Dumbledore and Fred Weasley were best friends, right?
"However, I learned to appreciate the time I had with them. I learned to reflect. 6 years with you, Harry, seems all too short when you consider I've been alive for far more than a dozen times that. But, if I spent 72 years with you, or Hermione, or Abagail, or anybody, except perhaps Percy, it would have still seemed all too short."
"Thank you, sir." Harry said, after Dumbledore's little speech.
"Don't worry about what the Weasleys will think. I shall tell Arthur and Molly myself. As for Ms. Granger... tell her what you see fit. The truth would be best, but break it to her gently, please. You are dismissed, Harry."
Harry left Dumbledore's office, both mentally exhausted and perplexed at what he had seen. He didn't know what to tell Hermione.
