"I heard what happened." Albus says, coming to a stop at the park bench, dressed in a midnight velvet coat.

Harry looks up and smiles, thinking about this man in a future Dumbledore's eye-watering fashion. "We're all fine, thanks. Take a seat?"

Albus sits down beside Harry and looks out over the playground, the other children keeping to the edges and pointedly skirting wide around the sandbox, where Tom and Gellert have made a make-shift map in the sand, wielding sticks to draw their battle plans. Tom is losing but he has a look in his eyes that says he's got a trap waiting.

"Why do you bring them here?" Albus wonders. "Why not a safer wizarding area?"

"I'd like to say it's because I'm watching them so they're safe," Harry muses. "But basically it's because if they do something particularly frightening to the children, then it's not going to follow them to adulthood like it would if a wizard or witch saw them."

Albus just laughs. It's a charming sound.

"What do you think of muggles being a threat?" Harry asks, curious how this Dumbledore has changed.

"Is this because of what happened to you?"

"More because I want to know what you think," Harry admits.

Albus pauses a moment. "All people can be good or bad and it's lazy to judge so grandly."

Harry takes a deep breath. "Why are you a Dark Lord? I keep trying to figure it out but the newspapers are useless, no one who knew you when you were younger wants to talk, and you're so different from…"

"Well, I wouldn't call myself a Dark Lord first of all," Albus corrects. "I try to negotiate and have meaningful conversations, but I will also take the forceful route if needed. It's not so much the power that I listen to but the greater good-"

"Start again," Harry says. "But tell me the truth this time."

Albus pauses, looking to Harry's eyes as if searching for something. He smiles. "Because my father was Kissed by a Dementor for defending my sister and my mother lost herself in grief. Because my brother was shut out and spurned and attacked for defending creatures until he dove to his death at the bottom of a bottle. Because my sister died to an easily curable sickness all due to the fact that she was not better than a squib and, well, the healers had better things to do, didn't they?"

Harry swallows thickly and tells himself now is not the time to feel sympathy. "Get revenge on those people then. Tear them apart."

"I have," Albus states.

"Then it's over, isn't it?"

"I don't pretend to be a good man, Harry," Albus says solemnly. "I feel anger and I rage and it still hurts when I think of my family, innocent people, suffering. I know it can be better, and I will make it better, even if the rest of the world hates me for it."

"But why choose this way?" Harry demands. "You're targeting innocents yourself now."

Albus sighs. "Much like love, hatred knows no bounds."

They sit in silence for a while, Harry's wringing his hands together because he wants to keep pushing but he knows Albus won't change, not after this long, not with just a short conversation.

Gellert rises to his knees, punching his fists into the air with a wide grin. Tom slaps his stick into the sand, maintaining eye contact, and draws a symbol that means attack. Gellert looks down at the map, run through with lines and symbols and furrows where they rubbed things out by stomping on it, and his eyes widen in shock.

"You can go over," Harry tells Albus. "I won't attack you or anything."

Albus takes a moment to tear his eyes away. "Oh, can I? I'm so curious."

Harry gestures to the boys. "You could probably play the next round if you asked?"

Albus wins the new round, so the boys band together in the next and destroy him with great prejudice.

Harry knows that the boys are leaving him soon, and after meeting with Albus he's just a little bit clingy because if such a man can change this much then what happens when the boys leave? Will they forget Harry? Will their time together just be a nice memory?

For the next week, Harry keeps suggesting that they maybe spend some more time together while they can, but Gellert and Tom quickly put a stop to that train of thought.

"We're not leaving," Gellert assures.

Harry is sceptical. "We got attacked in our own home, and I didn't let you defend us. Are you really telling me you're not upset or power hungry right now?"

"Oh, we definitely are," Tom admits, eyes narrowing.

Gellert waves a hand dismissively. "But we're not upset at you, and we can be power hungry at home too."

"Oh," Harry says and smiles happily even though he really shouldn't be with a sentence like that.

The icy dragon baby wobbles around on the coffee table.

The Unspeakable watches as a floating quill scribbles something down on parchment. "Why is it so…meek."

"It's a baby," Harry says, reaching out and petting it. The dragon rolls over for a belly rub and Harry laughs. "Good girl, so cute."

"You've ruined it," the Unspeakable says. "It's docile. You ruin everything you touch, Harry."

Harry props an elbow on his knee and drops his chin on a hand. "You started it by giving her to me. I mean this is turning into a zoo, and I'm not sure I like it. What's next, a dementor?"

An icy chill emanates from behind Harry, skeletal fingers hover over his shoulder.

Harry turns and scowls at Death. "Don't make me cast a patronus."

"With what wand?" Death mocks.

Harry pats his pockets and finds nothing. "Boys, cast a patronus for me!" Harry yells in the vague direction of upstairs.

Of course Harry taught them, because of course they'll visit Azkaban eventually. Maybe as prisoners, probably to break out minions.

Gellert happily sends out a spectral cuckoo bird. Tom takes a moment but summons a small little cowbird. Both patronus swoop downstairs and fly past Death but don't seem to want to get any closer to the being.

Both birds are parasites, known for preying on other birds. The parasitic young will be deposited into the nest and slowly eat out the host family so the host parent starves to death, sometimes also knocking the other baby birds out of the nest to kill the competition.

"That is so wrong," the Unspeakable says.

"I like them," Harry argues because the birds are pretty. "They're both very cute."

The Unspeakable laughs. "Yeah, I'll put that quote on your tombstone."

Harry tsks but stands up when the alarm spell rings. "Stay with Nogard, I need to get the pastries out of the oven."

"I still hate that name!" the Unspeakable calls out as Harry leaves the room.

A moment later, Tom and Gellert are slipping inside, barriers snapping up to keep the conversation private.

The Unspeakable settles back into the couch. "Are you certain?"

Gellert nods. "We've given ample thought to your proposition but there's no need to leave for our schooling. If you get us into owl-order classes, we can handle the workload with self-study."

"You won't be skipping grades," the Unspeakable reminds them. "It's the normal yearly curriculum condensed down into months. That's a lot of time to dedicate, not including your research."

"We can handle both," Tom says confidently. "Harry can't be left alone."

"Have you ever thought," the Unspeakable begins slowly, testing them. "That perhaps Harry is holding you back?"

Gellert sighs, fondly. "He tries."

Tom scoffs. "If Harry alone is what drags us down, then we were never any good in the first place. We can deal with him, and our education, and our research. This isn't going to be a problem."

"Good answer," the Unspeakable says approvingly. "I'll set it up. Funding will be under my purview as well, both for education and the grants you've submitted for your research."

Tom is rather suspicious. "I thought the grants were denied."

The Unspeakable shrugs. "Like I said, it was a good answer."

.

A/N: More Dumbledore this chapter, and I am working on making their relationship more casual. Plus a quick peek into how the attack has effected the boys.