A/N: This is the final thing. I've been working on this deranged fic for over half a year. I'm not really satisfied with it at all, which is proof I wrote it, so I will probably revisit it and revise parts silently. There's a brief thing with Grindelwald at the beginning, and then it's Harry.

I have been able to capitalize on the fact this scene is missing from Canon. I remember people distressing online when I was 10 before OotP was published over the Marauder's Map. The question was: What happened to it? Did Harry get the map back? Dumbledore had found out that Crouch Jr. had the map, but had they recovered it and where was it now? We know now Harry got it back, but we don't know how it happened. Soo, here we are. I'm not contradicting Canon. Haha.

I want to thank everyone who has reviewed, followed, or favorited this. Love you all!

kaurlucky77 - (sorry for the no periods in your name - Doc Manager wouldn't let me put the in?) Yeah, sexuality is kind of a weird thing. I mean, we know that Dumbledore didn't mess around with anyone else after Grindelwald, but I don't think he'd be really asexual. If he was asexual, he wouldn't have wanted dear Gellert. I'm not sure that he would've ever thought himself as asexual because I'm not sure that that is widely known - I think a lot of people don't even know that exists/is an option. But everybody is different. Dumbledore has self-loathing tendencies, which I go on and on about in this story, so I can see him as someone who repressed his homosexuality/was ashamed by it. I don't think there's anything wrong with being gay, but I think a young, vulnerable Albus would have hated it about himself (though I think he'd get over it and wouldn't care later in life)... But that's just my take - my preference.

the-little-guru - Thanks! I'm glad you liked my evidence notes at the bottom.

Sue Clover - Hehe, you read To Forgive? I'm tempted to delete it and just include it in here, but some people favorited it and such. I like to think Gellert did, deep down, have feelings for Albus. I read a post recently about an analysis of Albus/Gellert, and it was pretty convincing that Gellert did care about Albus and did not want to hurt him. We know he tried to defend Albus' grave at the cost of Gellert's own life. I also have this idea that Gellert may have come to love Albus after it was all over - after he had spent decades in prison. Gellert had nothing to do but read and think. I think he sat thinking about Albus a great deal, and maybe he came to realize that there was something there, deep down. IDK. Dark wizards with feelings are adorable.

Red Furry Demon - Haha, self-plagiarism! Yes, but I do kind of want to delete the old one. But yeah, I do think Gellert would've hesitated - he wouldn't have wanted to kill Albus. Why he would hesitate is the interesting question. Gellert is a complicated guy. You'd expect him to be Voldemort version #1, but then when Voldemort meets Grindelwald, Gellert lies, laughs, and goads him, all in order to protect the grave of the man who defeated him. Nothing like Voldemort. Wait, wait, wait, Emeric the Evil beat the Elder Wand? How did I not know this?

BrigidSparks - Thank you! I think it's such trash to be honest, but I'm glad you enjoyed! And I do like cookies/muffins.

1946

What was terrible was all the time to think. Gellert had no future anymore, not even much a real present either, so all he could think about was the past.

Gellert felt quite certain the Nazi concentration camps were more humane than this. The Muggles, they at least had something to preoccupy their mind: survival. They at least had each other. He was wasting away, alone. He got newspapers. That was as much as what he got to remind himself that there was still a world out there. That was his only evidence. He had once heard his mother say that an idle mind is a devil's workshop, or something like that. But he had never known what she had meant until now. He was fairly certain that he was losing his mind. His mind was destroying himself.

What he thought about most of all was that damned man with his irritating pet bird and Gellert's former wand. Albus was probably having a fucking spectacular time sitting up with those idiot children, his candy, his phoenix, and his Elder Wand with all its power that he was only using to summon quills, grade papers, and light a dark room with.

How had he managed to win over the Elder Wand anyway? Unbeatable wand, indeed. He hated this question most of all.

At first, he told himself that Albus had always been his equal. It had been a very close call, and Gellert wasn't quite sure how Albus had managed to live. But this made it seem like Albus was superior than he in his magical powers, and that did not sit well with Gellert. If they had been equals, Gellert should have won, because the Elder Wand had no equal. That would mean that Gellert was inferior, and he didn't like that. So then came the next theory: he had let Albus win.

He liked this theory even less.

I didn't let him win, he told himself. I merely let my guard down. It was a terrible shock, and I had just hit him, that's all. Why would I ever let him win...? Yes, Gellert, why would I ever let anybody take the Elder Wand from me? I didn't let Albus do anything. I -

But he had been shaken when Albus almost succeeding in taking his wand right out of Gellert's pocket. It had frightened him. It made Gellert hurt. Why did it make him hurt?

This question haunted him.

1995

Albus Dumbledore was half-asleep while walking, but he did not stop. All the conversations that could have happened had happened. The night was over; the sun had risen, yet still, he did not plan to go to sleep. He was only half-aware of where he was going. It did not dawn on him that his feet had carried him to the Hospital Wing until he was facing the only three semi-conscious people within it. He had, after all, promised Harry that he would visit him again after speaking with Fudge. Why he had made this promise was a bit of a mystery. At the time he said that, Harry had Sirius, no less than three Weasleys, and Hermione Granger, why should he need him too? As if Albus was a comforting figure anyway... Even Severus would probably be a better mother hen than Albus Dumbledore.

Molly Weasley, Ron, and Hermione were still there at the unconscious Harry's bedside. It told Albus just how well Harry had picked the two friends he made in his first year. They all looked like they were ready to fall asleep sitting up, and their reactions to seeing Albus were delayed in their grogginess. They eventually all looked at him expectantly, as if Albus was meant to come give them answers to the questions that undoubtedly had plagued them all night long as Harry slept.

"You all ought to go and get some sleep," said Albus after he had held their gaze for a few seconds. "It's nearly seven."

Tears were filling Molly's eyes. "We can't leave him alone, Albus. What if he wakes up and no one is here?"

Albus shook his head. With a sigh, he said, "He will not wake up alone. I will stay with him. You three look like you are about to fall asleep sitting upright."

"Have you gotten any sleep tonight?" asked Molly rather shrewdly.

Albus flicked his wand and drew up a chair for himself on the other side of Harry's bed. He pulled it up close to Harry and sat down tiredly. Harry looked peaceful - his expression was relaxed as he slept in a dreamless sleep.

"Of course I have," Albus lied to Molly finally, "but now it is time for you three to get at least a couple of hours. I will remain here until he wakes up."

The trio stood up looking half-relieved and half-guilty.

"You're absolutely certain?" asked Molly. "I can stay, Albus."

But Albus shook his head. "No, I'm fine, Molly. Truly, I will stay with him."

Molly nodded and followed the two teenagers out of the Hospital Wing.

Albus sat in silence for half an hour before remembering what he had in his pocket. He pulled it out the old parchment and examined "The Marauder's Map." It showed every single student, teacher, and visitor by name as they moved about the castle. He had no idea how or where Harry had managed to get this map, and he meant to ask Harry as soon as he woke up. He could understand why Barty Crouch Jr. would have wanted to "borrow" this map from Harry. Such a tool could be extremely useful, and Albus almost wished he had his own copy.

As Albus watched Harry sleep, he knew how greatly he had failed him. All year long, he had known something horrible was going to occur, yet he had still failed to stop it... He had encouraged Barty Crouch Jr. to keep close to Harry, to indirectly help him, to watch over him, and that was the worst thing that he could have encouraged. Right now, Albus was terrified. Tired as he was, the thought had still occurred to him that Voldemort might try to gain access into Harry's mind in the coming months. This realization scared Albus to the core. The thought of Voldemort hijacking Harry's mind made him feel sick, and he desperately tried not to think about that just yet. Harry was still alive, he had survived, which is more than Albus could have hoped for from such an ordeal. The only other good matter that he could gain from tonight was that he knew Voldemort was now terrified of Harry, and this thought made Albus want to smile.

After Lily and James died, Albus had sworn to himself that he would not make mistakes when it came to Harry. Before Harry, Albus thought his life was at a close. He would continue to fight against Voldemort until either he died or Voldemort did, but he thought the story of Albus Dumbledore was over. He had never expected someone like Harry to come along and need him. He had never expected to have such a miraculous person on his hands at this stage of his life. In truth, Albus had almost been looking forward to death, but Harry needed him. He needed him now more than ever. Harry had never exactly not been in danger, but now, with Voldemort at power... The poor kid, how awful of a thing it must be to be dependent upon Albus Dumbledore.

He had sworn he would not make mistakes in regard to Harry, yet he had. He would have to distance himself in the next year.

But before that, he would have one last talk with him. Harry wouldn't know it at the time, but it would be Albus' way of saying goodbye... for now. Yet he was afraid of the questions that Harry might ask. Albus was not sure how much Harry had absorbed from Voldemort's speech last night, but he knew that Voldemort had told Harry things Albus would rather he not know. Harry was supposed to be kept in the dark about everything. He was afraid Harry would ask him why Voldemort wanted him dead in the first place. Voldemort had said that he, Albus, had decided Harry would go live with his aunt and uncle. He was afraid Harry would ask him why in the hell Albus had any right to decide Harry's fate (hint: he had no right). He hadn't wanted Harry to know that it was him who placed him in their negligent care. Albus Dumbledore was supposed to be merely Harry's headmaster, no more. He was afraid Harry would demand he stay with Sirius that summer. Harry not returning to the Dursley's home would mean that protection would be broken forever. Albus couldn't let that happen, no matter how angry Harry was at this. But your pawn has his own will now, Albus. He's nearly fifteen. What if Harry ran away or flat-out refused? What if he demanded answers? What if he rebelled?

Harry wasn't supposed to know. But how much longer could he continue to hide the truth?

With a sigh, Albus reached out his right hand and brushed some of his dark hair upon his forehead.

"I love you, Harry," he admitted softly.

Harry slept on soundly, unresponsive.

An hour later, Harry was stirring. He opened his eyes and sat up slowly to find Albus sitting there with a stricken expression. He put his hands on his face, and Albus knew it was because Harry had just remembered what had happened last night.

Harry doesn't have Sirius right now, Dumbledore; you sent him away. He doesn't have Mrs. Weasley or his two friends; you told them to go get some sleep. He only has you. How terrible of a thing is that?

His walls breaking down, Albus reached out and took one of Harry's hands and held it. Harry looked surprised for a moment before closing his eyes. He did not pull his hand away.

Finally, Albus said, "You know, Harry, I found something interesting in Barty Crouch Jr.'s possessions."

Harry reopened his eyes as Albus pulled his hand away and retrieved the mysterious map from his pocket. It was a map of Hogwarts that showed everyone in the castle milling about. Albus watched for some kind of spark in Harry's eyes but found none yet.

"I attempted to figure out how it works," Albus continued, "by trying a few harmless spells on it. Nothing too serious, for I did not want to damage it, but then the most curious thing happened. Four people named Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs began to write the most amusing things directed to me by name."

There it was. A spark of amusement was lit in Harry's eyes. He smiled a small smile.

"I trust you know how it works, Harry?"

Harry nodded. He took the map gently from Albus' hands and removed his wand from his pocket. Harry pointed his wand at it and said, "In order to make the map blank, you say, 'Mischief managed.'"

Albus watched as the map's ink disappeared, leaving only an old, yet blank yellow parchment.

"That's important. Otherwise, anyone can read it. You don't want information falling into the wrong hands. So, then in order to bring it back, you say, 'I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,'" said Harry softly. The map came back to life. "It even shows the secret passageways of the school. If you go up to a secret passageway entrance, the map will see you standing before it, and it will tell you the spell to say to open it."

Greatly amused, Albus smiled. "How in the world did your father's map ever come into your possession?"

"Fred and George stole it from Filch a long time ago," explained Harry. "Then in my third year, they gave it to me, since I wasn't..." voice trailed away.

"Since you weren't allowed to go to Hogsmeade the traditional route, yes," said Albus gently.

"Er, yeah, that," admitted Harry. "Of course, I really have no idea how they ever figured out how to use it in the first place though."

"Oh, those two are geniuses, very resourceful," said Albus seriously. "Most people simply do not realize that."

Harry nodded, starting to look sad again.

Albus knew he was going to have to distance himself from Harry. He knew Voldemort would most likely try to see into Harry's mind. He knew he would have to tell Harry about the prophecy soon. Thankfully, it was not today. There was no possible way that Voldemort would have already figured out that much.

"It is very fortunate," Albus told Harry softly, "that you are my favorite pupil. Otherwise, I would have no choice but to confiscate this artifact that obviously encourages rule-breaking, but you are speaking to the same mad person who gave you the Invisibility Cloak."

Harry smiled again more widely this time. Albus waited for the questions he was dreading, but none came. He suspected Harry was in too much shock to think clearly.

Albus put a hand on Harry's shoulder and said, "You can leave here in another forty-five minutes if you want, Harry. I still have to speak with the school, and since teenagers are not early risers, I have to wait until nine at the earliest. I told your friends to go get some rest, so that is why they are not here now. They stayed with you the whole night."

"What did you do all night, sir?" asked Harry glumly.

That hadn't been a question he was anticipated. Albus swiftly realized he had no good response to this besides the honest truth. He could not make a joke like he usually did to deflect a question off of him, and he could not lie. Harry had been through enough.

"I planned and schemed, Harry," he said finally. "Unfortunately, that is what I do most, and with Voldemort back, I am sure that is what I will be doing more than ever."

Harry nodded. He seemed to find comfort in this, which broke Albus' heart - Harry was so convinced that Albus' plans and intentions were always good.

"I'll get some more sleep," said Harry. "I'm fine. You don't need to stay or anything, sir."

"Are you certain?"

"Yeah, definitely. I'm still tired."

"All right, Harry. Feel free to ask Madam Pomfrey if you need anything."

"I will. Thanks, sir."

Albus strode out of the hospital wing, and he felt tears fill his eyes when he realized that was his last conversation he would have with Harry for a long time, maybe even years. Harry trusted him. It amazed him that Harry had not just re-asked why Voldemort wanted him dead to begin with. Harry had asked him at the end of his first year, and three full years had since passed, yet even with Voldemort's return, Harry still obeyed Albus' request to "put it out of his mind." Harry trusted him. He did what Albus asked him to do without hesitation. The familiar sensation of guilt washing over him hit.

But Voldemort had used Harry's blood... Harry's life would be tethered to Voldemort's. Albus was almost completely sure of it, but Harry could not know that he would survive when that terrible time came. Harry would have to be ready to willingly die - to walk to his own death... all at Albus' request.

Albus would have lifted this terrible burden off Harry's shoulders and transferred it onto himself if he could. But he couldn't. It had to be Harry. It always had had to be Harry.

You love Harry just enough to be wracked by guilt and not enough to tell him he doesn't have to do it. You love Harry, but you love the greater good more. And the worst part is... Harry trusts you. So does everyone else.

I'm so sorry.

No matter how much he planned, no matter how much he tried, everything he touched fell apart.

A/N: I just got home from work. Guess where I'm gonna be in less than 8 hours? Back at work.

All right, that's as much as I can think of. I can't write anymore Dumbledore whining about how much he hates himself, poor guy. I hope you all have enjoyed this super deranged fic!