A/N:I know I haven't updated in a while. I'm going to start an internship for college soon and I want to get this finished!
Okay, you know what, I don't think anyone realized just how much Albus was trying to take care of his brother and sister after their mother was killed. He could have said, "Nope, sorry, Ab, but you're going to an orphanage/you're own your own and Ariana, you're going to St. Mungo's for the rest of your life." But he didn't do that. He tried! We know they had little money and Albus was stuck trying to put food on the table, so I like to think Albus was stuck into some horrible job close to home just to keep them fed.
This chapter is absolutely important I think, because I'm setting the stage for Gellert (next chapter). Here, Albus is vulnerable, which makes him an easy target for someone like Gellert Grindelwald… How difficult do you think it would be for an evil person like Gellert to prey upon a gullible, lonely, parentless, and infatuated teenage boy? Pretty damn easy, IMO.
The title of this fanfic emerges here and for good reason. This chapter is actually sort of personal to me and I think anyone who has left school and gone out into the world can relate a bit to Albus here. Can you imagine going from being such a promising genius ready to see the world to being a working poor teenager who has to take care of his insane sister? "Trapped and wasted" talent was how Dumbledore described his situation. Trapped and wasted talent indeed.
HermyLuna2: Was it confusing? Ah, I thought about adding dates to the scenes so it was clearer, but I removed them. The scenes are in sequential order and they are meant to be snapshots. I'm sorry it was harder to follow. About Albus and Gellert – I know, that is one of the things that just kills me because JK Rowling kind of left us hanging. Some fans believe that Albus harbored feelings for Gellert, but it was never revealed, while other fans think they were having sex like bunnies. I know it is not going to be everyone's cup of tea, but oh well. I've read what JK Rowling has said on the Albus/Gellert matter and I really, really do think she hints they were together, but not because Gellert actually returned feelings for Albus. I knew it was a bit of a risk to drop the bomb that they were together without explaining how it got to that point, but I decided to go ahead with it…. I'm trying to make the Albus and Gellert relationship completely believable, trust me. Next chapter I'm going to try to make it all work.
Red Furry Demon – Thank you! Yeah, I do always try to slip in a comic relief moment. If I can pull it off, I am going to make Gellert be really funny. That probably sounds weird because he was one of the most evil wizards in history, but I'm going to try to make it work. I was definitely trying to get the Aberforth and Albus relationship right, and I think it was a dysfunctional relationship. I do think they loved each other, but neither Albus nor Aberforth every truly got over what happened. Aberforth certainly spoke angrily about his brother in Deathly Hallows, so yeah, I don't their relationship was ever truly mended.
"Have you ever done that, when you squint your eyes and your eyelashes make it look a little not right, and when just enough light comes from just the right side and you find you're not who you're supposed to be? This is not what you're supposed to see ... the situation's becoming dire, my tree house is on fire and for some reason I smell gas on my hands. This is not what I had planned. This is not what I had planned."
- Twenty One Pilots, "Forest"
"By the end of his first year he would never again be known as the son of a Muggle-hater, but as nothing more or less than the most brilliant student ever seen at the school. ... Dumbledore's future career seemed likely to be meteoric, and the only question that remained was when he would become Minister of Magic."
- Elphias Doge, Deathly Hallows, pg. 17 (US)
"'Not Albus, he was always up in his bedroom when he was home, reading his books and counting his prizes, keeping up with his correspondence with 'the most notable magical names of the day,' Aberforth sneered. 'He didn't want to be bothered with her. ... Bit of a comedown for Mr. Brilliant, there's no prizes for looking after your half-mad sister, stopping her blowing up the house every other day. But he did all right for a few weeks... till [Grindelwald] came."
- Aberforth Dumbledore, Deathly Hallows, pg. 567 (US)
September 1892
It did not take long for everyone to realize that eleven-year-old Albus was very talented with a wand.
During his first ever Transfiguration lesson (this was the class Albus was looking forward to the most), the first years were given the simple task of trying to turn a match into a needle, which was, to say the least, quite unexciting. Albus watched his teacher, Professor Davis, a small woman with straight blonde hair, wave her wand and clearly say the incantation. Professor Davis held up what had been a match, but was now clearly silver. It glinted in the light.
"Now, this will not be easy for you all," said Professor Davis, "but that is completely normal. Keep trying. When any of you are successful, if anyone is successful by the end of the class today, please raise your hand…. Go on, give it as many tries as you can."
Albus heard his classmates muttering the incantation around him. Elphias, who was sitting to his left tried the spell, but there was no effect.
Albus raised his wand the way Professor Davis had and he said the incantation once. The match immediately turned into a shiny, silver needle. He smiled and raised his hand.
Elphias looked over at him in surprise and said, "Was that really just a match?"
Professor Davis was looking over at Albus in surprise. She came over to his side and stared at the needle.
"You managed to do this on your first attempt?" she said incredulously.
Albus nodded.
"It's Albus Dumbledore, isn't it?"
He nodded again. He became dimly aware that everyone in the room was looking at him and it made him feel anxious.
Professor Davis reached into her pocket and pulled out another match. She placed it before Albus.
"Try it again," she said. "I would like to see."
He waved his wand again and the match became a needle. He looked up at her expectantly, as if his eyes were asking, "Did I do it correctly?"
Professor Davis smiled widely. "Incredible," she said. "Incredible. I think that deserves twenty points for Gryffindor. Well done, Mr. Dumbledore. I have never seen in all my years a first attempt be successful."
Albus felt himself blushing and he did not know what to say, nor did he really know what to do with himself now. Elphias was getting frustrated trying and Albus found himself trying to teach him how to do it. Yet despite the fact that Elphias was doing everything he could correctly, it still was not working like it had with Albus. It did not make sense to him. If Elphias did everything correctly, identically the same as Albus had, why was it Elphias' match did not immediately turn into a needle? By the end of the period, the match was pointy at the end, but it was still more of a match than a needle.
Albus found himself successful in all his classes. If a teacher gave him an incantation, he did it successfully on the first try. All of his teachers and even his peers were in awe of him. He didn't really know what to make of it. He had always considered himself to be intelligent because he loved to read, but he had never thought that he would be a powerful wizard. He found himself successfully going through the Standard Book of Spells of all volumes in private. He did not want to show off, but he did want to master every spell in the textbooks, merely to see if he could.
December 1892
It was four days before the students were to board the Hogwarts train and go home for Christmas when first-year Albus ran into his headmaster, Professor Corwin. He had literally walked into him because Albus wasn't watching where he was going and he had turned a corner too quickly.
"I'm sorry, sir!" Albus said squeakily. "I – I wasn't minding where I was going –"
"Don't worry, my boy, don't worry!" Professor Corwin said kindly. "You are the famous Mr. Albus Dumbledore, aren't you?"
"Yes, sir, but I am not sure about being famous."
Professor Corwin smiled. "Is it true you've already mastered every single spell in The Standard Book of Spells intended for our seventh years?"
"Well, some of them are still difficult, sir," said Albus meekly.
"Are you liking Hogwarts, even though you might as well graduate tomorrow?"
"I don't want to graduate early," said Albus at once. "I love Hogwarts. It is as if I want to be buried here."
At that, Professor Corwin laughed before waving Albus off and wishing him a Merry Christmas.
June 1899
His mother's death had been gruesome. Shell-shocked and grief-stricken, Albus was presented with a choice he never thought he would have to make. He could either take care of his family or he could let his younger brother go into an orphanage while Ariana would surely end up in St. Mungo's. He chose to be the head of the family at the age of seventeen.
He needed a job – fast. He found a dreadful Muggle position at a store. He was to move boxes and put products on "the floor" in the early morning, plus do whatever boring tasks were needed at the time. When he told Aberforth where he had gotten a job and what he would be doing, Aberforth had laughed.
"Bit of a comedown for a genius such as yourself, isn't it?" Aberforth had sneered. "Moving boxes. Albus Dumbledore, one of the most powerful wizards in all of the United Kingdom, working in a Muggle job moving boxes. When are you going to find the time to write to Flamel and be the most dazzling, brilliant know-it-all of the century? You won't last a week."
But Albus had lasted. He lasted because he had to, but he still was not making enough money.
One day, he was five minutes late to his 7:00 AM shift due to Aberforth. They had started fighting with one another and Ariana became upset, so then both Albus and Aberforth had to calm her down. Once Ariana had stopped crying, Albus looked at the clock to see he was going to be late in three minutes. He dashed from the house looking like a complete madman.
"You're late," his boss, Mr. Trent, said coldly as soon as Albus was through the door.
"I'm sorry, sir," Albus said immediately, breathing so hard his ribs hurt. "I - I had to - take care of my sister -"
But Mr. Trent did not seem to care. "The last time someone was late, I fired them."
"No, please, sir, I'm not trying to make excuses, I'm just -"
"Don't think I can't replace you," snapped Mr. Trent. "What do you think you are, special or something? I could give your position to someone else who wouldn't ever be late in about ten minutes. You are what is called cheap and unskilled labor, Dumbledore. You'd better learn that quick. And don't go blaming me for your poor life choices. Maybe you should've stayed in school and learned how to read and write, then you'd be less replaceable. If you're late again, I'll give your job to someone else, because there are thousands of unskilled yous out there looking for money."
Mr. Trent walked away leaving Albus rooted to his spot. Albus stood frozen in horror with his mouth hanging open, but try as hard as he could, he could not pick his jaw up off the floor.
Mark and Luke, two teenage coworkers of Albus, came through the backroom doors carrying boxes.
"You feeling all right, Albus?" asked Mark as he put down the boxes and wiped sweat off his forehead. Like Albus, Mark was also a teenager trying to make ends meet, though Albus didn't really know the details into his situation.
"I'm all right," Albus agreed faintly.
"Nah, you aren't," Mark said simply. "You look miserable."
Albus exhaled slowly and said more to himself than anyone, "This is not what I had planned. This is not what I had planned at all. This isn't the life I wanted for myself. I'm not who I'm supposed to be. This isn't who I am."
Both Mark and Luke burst out laughing, much to Albus' annoyance.
"Oh, Al," said Mark, his smile wide, "now you're truly one of us. Cheer up though, you'll be dead someday, and then you won't have to work here."
Albus did not reply. He simply went into the back room and set about opening boxes with a box cutter, tears in his eyes. He felt so hurt and tired. I am a failure, he thought as the tears threatened to spill. He thought about his Hogwarts professors and his headmaster. They had all had such high hopes for him.
"You will be successful no matter what you do career-wise after Hogwarts, Albus," Professor Davis had said to him fondly once in his sixth year. "I cannot wait to see what you make of yourself. I know I will hear about you."
Albus felt tears fall as he tried to cry in the most discreet way possible. What would his former Transfiguration professor say if she knew where he was now? The powerful, talented, and once so promising Albus Dumbledore was moving boxes in a store. He tried to tell himself that the Muggle position was only temporary, but Albus knew better. He had wanted to become a Hogwarts teacher. He could never be a Hogwarts professor because he had to take care of Ariana. He could not leave her alone for extended periods of time. He doubted he could even work in the Ministry. He could not, in good conscience, ever hand the responsibility of Ariana over to Aberforth, because Aberforth was not even mediocre in his magical skills. Aberforth could not handle her turbulent power on his own.
Albus briefly imagined someone who knew him from Hogwarts coming into the store in which Albus worked. 'Oh, hello Albus!' they would say. 'What on earth are you doing here? What do you mean you work here?'
The brilliant Albus Dumbledore, inventor of the twelve uses of dragon blood, stocking random junk on shelves for a living with no end in sight. He could practically see Professor Davis' face falling with disappointment.
June 1899
Bathilda Bagshot was both a blessing and a curse. Albus had gotten home from work late, exhausted. It was a mixed blessing when the doorbell rang and Albus opened it to find her standing there with food – real food. Albus and Aberforth had decided to put shredded cheese in between two pieces of bread and call it "supper." The lasagna Mrs. Bagshot was holding looked much better.
Aberforth hastily grabbed Ariana's hand and led her to her room just as Mrs. Bagshot was coming through the door.
"Mrs. Bagshot, truly, you do not have to do this for us," Albus heard himself saying, as he took the large container of food from her hands.
"Don't be silly!" exclaimed Mrs. Bagshot. "I am only feeding myself and my nephew; it only makes sense to give some leftovers to you! Actually, Albus, I wanted to tell you that I would love it for you to meet my nephew sometime tomorrow or the next day you have off work," Mrs. Bagshot babbled happily. "He is your age and he is very, very intelligent and talented like yourself; I think you two boys would get along beautifully."
"Oh," said Albus faintly, not caring about meeting his neighbor's nephew at all. "Of course. I would like that, Mrs. Bagshot," he lied.
"Lovely!" Mrs. Bagshot said happily. "Next time – perhaps tomorrow."
"Yes," Albus heard himself say. His eyes were burning and he felt, to his horror, tears in his eyes. He couldn't tell if he was actually crying or if his eyes were only watering from all the fatigued burning.
Mrs. Bagshot tilted her head. "Are you all right, Albus?"
Albus swayed a bit. He tried to say, "I'm fine," but when he opened his mouth, he only made a little noise and then tears started streaming down his face.
"Oh, Albus," Mrs. Bagshot said sympathetically. She put her right hand on his shoulder. "It's all right. You're simply exhausted. Everything is going to be okay. You are a good elder brother to Aberforth and Ariana, and I know you are trying the best you can. It will be all right, in time."
Albus nodded numbly, his head hanging a bit, eyes cast downward. He felt so awkward, standing there in his living room, holding warm lasagna and crying for no specific reason whatsoever in front of his eccentric neighbor. He wanted to curl up somewhere and sleep so badly.
They stood this way for a long moment before Mrs. Bagshot finally said, "Well, go ahead and eat, Albus. Then get some sleep. Sleep in as long as you need, yes?"
Albus nodded again. "How can I ever thank –"
"You do not need to," Mrs. Bagshot said firmly. "Merely stop by tomorrow to meet Gellert, all right? Good."
Albus cried himself to sleep that night, as he did often nowadays. He knew he was too immature for all the responsibilities placed upon his shoulders and he was completely alone. He was so alone it hurt. The voices inside of him taunted him, telling him that he was going to be lonely for the rest of his life. He was going to be stuck taking care of Ariana until either she killed him or she died. He loved his sister, but he was such a poor caregiver - it did not fit him right. He hated himself for being so selfish, for wishing he did not have to care for her. His parents would be so ashamed of how poor of a job Albus was doing taking care of his siblings. He knew he was being so selfish, but he couldn't help but know that all that potential that he had once possessed had disappeared overnight.
It's your fault, his demons screamed before he fell asleep. It's all your fault in the first place. You did this to Ariana. You did this to Aberforth. You did this to yourself.
From the moment Albus and Gellert Grindelwald made eye contact for the first time, Albus really didn't stand a chance.
A/N: Yay, Gellert is next.