Disclaimer: Nothing changed since last solstice - J.K. Rowling still owns Harry Potter.

About formatting:
For direct quotes I use italicized font.
Instead of footnotes I use double bold parentheses: (-( footnote text )-)


* * * * * * * WARNING * * * * * * *
This chapter contains a slight parody on a well-known line from the New Testament.

CHAPTER 3
Two Confessions

Somebody's scar exploded with pain.
And then somebody felt nothing.
(S)he did not mind this non-feeling; it was rather soothing.
Name, age, sex and whereabouts did not matter.
Nothing mattered.

Suddenly the sentience had begun.
And in this beginning were the Words, and the Words were - "Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"
(-( Practically the first words Harry ever heard Dumbledore speak )-)

And sentience brought flash-forward memory from somebody's future life.

His name was Harry Potter and all was well.
His scar was dead and he was alive.
He was thirty seven years old, saying to his son,
- Albus Severus, you were named for two headmasters of Hogwarts.
- One of them was a Slytherin and he was probably the bravest man I ever knew.

The scene became foggy and dissolved.


Harry Potter was lying on his back with 7 (seven) pieces of former Resurrection Stone resting on his chest.
(Why seven? Because six would be too few and eight – too many!)

He opened his eyes and looked around.
Dumbledore was beaming at him and Snape was swallowing hard.
Harry stood up.
Two wizards silently hugged him by their three good arms.
And Harry returned their hugs.
He did not feel embarrassed in the least; they were not his superiors anymore but comrades.

"So," Harry wanted to be sure, "It worked? Voldemort is dead?"
Snape tapped his forearm and nodded.
Dumbledore said, "Yes, Harry, You-Know-Who is dead." and added with a smile, "It was boring always calling him by his chosen name."

Harry looked at Dumbledore intently and asked, "So, my scar was not just a link to Voldemort, it was also a part of him?"
Dumbledore answered,
- In simple words, yes.
- In the same sense as the diary you destroyed in the Chamber of Secrets was part of him.
- Incidentally, You-Know-Who was the last descendant of the second brother from the tale.
- But it is another story, long and depressing.
- My time is short and I have one more unfinished business.

Dumbledore asked, "Have you ever heard about Remorse Ritual?"
"No," answered Harry.
Dumbledore took out his wand and held it like a quill, so his index finger was near the tip of the wand.
Muttering incantations, he put the tip of the wand on his forehead and drew a circle around his face.

(The question then arises, "Is beard part of face?"
Given the length of Dumbledore's beard it's an important question; the proper working of magic depends on it.
... Of course, the correct answer is, "nobody cares, except the author and other egghead nerds")

The wand became semi-transparent.
Dumbledore handed it to Harry and said,
- Harold James Potter, I, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, put my magic at your mercy.
- I urge you to hear my confession and render your judgment.

Harry was bewildered; he could not imagine what possibly Dumbledore could've done to cause such remorse.
There was a pause, as Harry was not sure what to do.
And Dumbledore's wand in his hands felt like a plain piece of wood.
Snape prompted, "Harry, you are supposed to say 'So be it.'"
"So be it," said Harry.

Dumbledore sat and took off his glasses. He spoke in regretful and subdued way,
- Back in year 1981 shortly before Halloween the rumors reached me that James Potter owns unusually powerful Invisibility Cloak.
- I did not put much stock in these rumors. It seemed too far-fetched idea that it was the lost True Cloak of Invisibility.
- Still, I decided to check, just in case.

- I borrowed the cloak from James. It did not took me long to realize that the improbable actually happened.
- In my hands was the ancient Cloak of Invisibility, one of legendary Feats of Magic.
- The tantalizing possibility sprang to my mind.
- If James was indeed the heir of the third brother, he could end the war in a few minutes by killing Voldemort.

- I had two ways how to act.
- I could just tell James all I've told you and ask him to try to invoke the Gift of Demise.
- Or I could check his wizarding genealogy first, which would take merely a few days.
- I chose the latter.

Dumbledore paused and continued very softly, barely above a whisper,
- Voldemort acted too quickly.
- He attacked before I finished the check.

- I bear the guilt (not the whole guilt, but a big part of it) for your parents' deaths.
- You may ask, why did not I choose the quick way - to ask James to try?
- The worst that may have happened - the Demise would not work. Then we would be in the same position, neither worse nor better.

- I will tell you why.
- Vanity, Harry, that cursed weakness marring even the best of us, vanity.
- I was afraid to appear a silly old fool.
- As simple as that.

Dumbledore straightened in his chair and said formally,
- Harold James Potter, I hereby conclude my confession and subject myself to your judgment and retribution.

Harry was stunned.
Dumbledore was the reason why he became an orphan, why he had to live with Dursleys...
Dumbledore, the greatest wizard of our time, turned out to be...
Harry's hands were shaking, he was overcome by wild desire to break Dumbledore's wand, which he still had in his hands.

A small voice (sounding suspiciously like Hermione's) inside his head said,
- And what about you, Harry? Aren't you the reason Sirius died? Does Lupin hate you for this?

Harry stopped thinking; he just let his feelings flow freely in his head.
And he discovered that what he felt towards Dumbledore was not hate.
There was anger and bitter disappointment and ... what? ... Yes, and pity.
But no hate.

Harry looked at Dumbledore and said, "Albus, I forgive you. Here is your wand."

"Harry," said Snape,
- You are supposed to impose some penalty on Albus. Otherwise his wand would stay dead.
- But I don't want to punish him any.
- The penalty does not have to be harsh. You can ask for a trifle, like glass of water. Or (with a smirk) a lemon drop.

Harry recalled the strange dream about his future self and said,
"OK, Albus, here is your penalty. You allow me to name my son after you."

Snape and Dumbledore looked at each other.
Snape said, "He asked your permission for something he could do without anybody's permission."
Dumbledore said, "A trick, worthy of Wesley twins. Harry, you have my permission."

Harry returned the wand (it now looked and felt normal) to Dumbledore.
Then he thought of something,
- Albus, what about the prophecy? If my dad killed Voldemort it would go against the prophecy, right?
- Yes, Harry, then this particular prophecy would be unfulfilled ... like many others.

Harry thought of other questions,
- When did you find the Resurrection Stone?
- Earlier today, Harry. A terrible curse was on it (Dumbledore moved his injured arm slightly). I saw the opportunity to defeat Voldemort quickly and arranged for this meeting.

- But, Albus, if you knew that I am the heir of the third brother, why did not you tell me earlier? I would kill Voldemort sooner.
- As I've already mentioned, you were not an adult, Harry. The magic would not recognize you as heir. My plan was to wait until you turn 17. Then I would tell you everything.
And Dumbledore added firmly "Including the nature of your scar."

Harry stopped in his tracks as implications hit him.
He would have to kill Voldemort, knowing that he himself would die in the process.

Dumbledore now looked peaceful and happy.
"Luckily," he said, "the Resurrection Stone came around. It was, as muggles say, a game changer."

Finally Harry understood everything.
With Resurrection Stone at hand, Dumbledore calculated the endgame in three simple moves:
- Harry kills Voldemort,
- Scar kills Harry,
- Stone resurrects Harry.

He could appreciate the neatness of this plan; indeed it worked without a hitch.
And he appreciated Dumbledore decision to keep him unaware of his scar, unaware of a cruel choice whom to resurrect - him or Dumbledore.

We all like when someone else makes the hard choice for us.
Especially if such choice benefits us.

For a while they sat in silence.


Harry still could not understand one thing - why Dumbledore was so calm and resigned.
He was going to die and knew it.
Why was he not afraid?
Did he have another trick up his sleeve?
Before he could stop himself, Harry asked, "Albus, aren't you afraid of death?"

- Harry, let me tell you a story.
Once upon a time a great Russian writer was at a dinner party.
He raised his hand and asked in jest, "Who is scared of death - raise your hand."
Nobody reacted and then another great Russian writer out of courtesy raised his hand and said, "No, I also don't want to die."
Harry, please note how he changed the meaning of question; he wanted to live, but live without fear of death.
(-( Ivan Turgenev asked the question and his friend Leo Tolstoy answered )-)

Harry thought about this parable.
And he though he understood what Dumbledore meant.
The fear of death is worse than death itself.
In the same sense as prolonged suffering is worse than short one.


Sudden convulsion passed over Dumbledore's face.
Snape bit his lower lip.
Dumbledore, breathing heavily, looked at him and said in broken voice,
- Severus ... please ... When you see that my mind is going ... do me the last favor, will you?
Snape pressed his lips together and nodded curtly.

They sat quietly some more, waiting for inevitable.

Another conversation, hidden from Harry, took place.
- Severus, my confession was not only for Harry, but for you as well.
Now you know that you are not the only one to be blamed.
Harry also needs to know the truth about you.
And you need to reveal this truth to him.
Otherwise you will never be able to live a life that you deserve.

- Albus, no! How can I?
- Yes, Severus, you can. You are brave. Prove it, tell Harry everything.

They waited more.

Dumbledore groaned in pain.
His whitened face was twitching, his voice was raspy and chocked, "Don't hurt them, please ... my fault ... hurt me instead ..."
Harry covered his ears; he did not want to listen, it was private, it was wrong, it was unfair to see Albus Dumbledore dying like this, dying without dignity.

Snape pressed his wand to Dumbledore's chest and cast a curse, "Subsisto Cardio!"
(-( 'Stop the heart' in Greek/Latin mix )-)
Dumbledore's body stopped moving; for a moment it was rigid, then went limp.
Snape held out his hand and closed Dumbledore's eyes.
He looked away, giving Harry a few minutes to compose himself.


- Severus, we gonna take Dumbledore to Hogwarts, right?
- Yes, but later. Sorry, Harry, but we have one more matter to attend.
Harry looked at Snape questioningly.

- First - let me ask you, have anybody told you the shape of your mother's Patronus?
- No. Why?
- It was like...
Snape closed his eyes, searching for a happy memory, and, with a visible effort, spoke, "Expecto Patronum."
A beautiful silver doe emerged from his wand.

The doe slowly came to Harry, looking at him with big green eyes, eyes of the same color as Harry's, same color as Lily Potter's eyes.
Harry looked back at her, transfixed, unable to take his eyes off her.
"... like this," Snape finished.

Then, like Dumbledore before, he moved his wand around his face.
Then he gave the wand (now semi-transparent) to Harry.
(The doe Patronus flickered and went out.)

- Harold James Potter, I, Severus Snape, put my magic at your mercy.
- I urge you to hear my confession and render your judgment.
Harry said, "So be it."

- When I was a child, among our neighbors was Evans family...
A long story followed; long and unhappy.
In the story there were friendship and love and jealousy, ambition and House rivalry, wrong choices and overheard prophecy...

Snape ended his confession in a colorless voice,
- I told Voldemort that I'd like to have some fun with 'that mudblood, Lily Potter', and asked him to spare her.
- If he ever suspected that she was for me something more than passing fancy, he would promptly kill both of us.
- You know the rest.
(-( Remember how Voldemort reacted when Harry told him that Snape loved Lily? "He desired her, that was all" )-)

"Well," thought Harry, "that explains why Voldemort offered my mom to stand aside and save her life."
Snape said,
- Harold James Potter, I hereby conclude my confession and subject myself to your judgment and retribution.

That was different, not like Dumbledore's story.
Dumbledore was guilty of weakness, Snape – of crimes.
He certainly deserved his hate, deserved punishment.
What should he do to Snape? How to make him suffer?

Again, he recalled the dream about his future.
In that dream he called Snape 'the bravest man'...
Understanding dawned on him.
Snape just demonstrated another kind of bravery, the harder kind.
He just turned his soul inside out, revealing all his shameful secrets, all his past misdeeds and humiliations.

What Harry felt toward Snape now was acceptance.
They could live on without being enemies.

- Severus Snape, I cannot punish you much worse than you already endured.
- You don't deserve forgiveness, but …
Harry stopped, searching for the right word.
… but you deserve peace.

- So ... what penalty should I impose on you...
A mischievous idea sprang to his mind, "Severus Snape, here is your penalty. I will NOT name my son after you."
And he added with feigned benevolence, "If you wish, I can name you godfather to my son."

Snape looked back and said with feigned horror, "I swear that I will NEVER be a godfather to any son of yours."
Later he often wondered what made him choose these exact words...

ONE MORE CHAPTER REMAINS (with two epilogues)


Would the great illustrious YOU please write some REVIEW for this inept insignificant story? (just kidding)