"Albus, wake up," a small voice said, stirring him from his dreams. He woke up groggily; for a moment everything looked blurry, then he remembered to put on his glasses. His little sister was smiling brightly at him.

"Wake up, Alby. Mummy wants you."

"Thanks, Ariana," Albus said, rubbing his eyes. He sat up and looked down at the girl. His sister had the bright, innocent spirit one would expect from a six-year-old. Somewhat small and frail for her age, she had rosy cheeks and thick golden locks. As Albus watched her, she skipped over to the other side of the room where his brother was sleeping. She shook him gently.

"Abe," Ariana said gently, tapping his arm tentatively.

"Huh?" His round, grubby face appeared from under the sheets, his head topped with a bunch of messy brown curls. Albus got along decently with both of his siblings, although at times his seven-year-old brother could be fairly annoying. Aberforth had the particularly aggrivating habit of asking loud questions whenever Albus managed to sneak some of their father's spellbooks or potions manuals into their bedroom, which usually alerted Kendra and won Albus a smarting bottom.

Ariana tapped him again. "Abe, wake up. Mummy says you need to do your chores."

"I don't wanna," Aberforth mumbled, turning over under the covers.

"Come on, Abe," Albus said, pulling a clean set of robes on over his head. "Mum's going to start spitting tacks if you don't go collect the hen's eggs, you were supposed to do it yesterday..."

"I don't need you to tell me that," Aberforth said angrily, his head reappearing. The comment about Kendra's anger seemed to have swayed him however, as he soon began to get dressed as well. Ariana waved goodbye to both of them, then skipped off down the hall.

"Why doesn't Ariana have to do any chores?" Aberforth mumbled sourly. He had never been a morning person.

"Because she's too young, and she's a girl."

"So? What does that have to do with anything?"

"She'll have to start doing them soon enough. You used to not have to do anything either..."

"Well, I wish I didn't have to now. Why can't mum just do it? It'd take two seconds using magic."

Albus sighed. "Because, Abe, doing chores without magic..." He hesitated. "Well, it lets you really appreciate your magic when you can use it." He wasn't certain that it was true, but it seemed a valid enough point.

"That's a load of rubbish. I'd appreciate it plenty right now..."

----

What Albus didn't mention to his brother was that he had recently been working on how to do his chores using what little magic he could do. Of course, he couldn't let anyone see; Kendra would be furious if she saw him doing more magic on purpose, and Aberforth would be likely to demand that Albus show him how to do it. Still, it was worth the risk; it definitely saved time, and helped him practice his magic for Hogwarts. At the moment, Albus was out in the garden, pulling up weeds. Rather than yank them out by hand, he could usually make them pluck themselves out of the ground by screwing up all of his concentration. It worked about half of the time, which was more than he used to be able to do, even if it gave him a bit of a headache.

Their yard was fairly large; the grass was a bit unkept, and it was littered with the fallen leaves of autumn. It was surrounded by a large hedge; at one side of the yard was a moderately neat vegetable garden, and at the other side was a small chicken coop. From his spot in the garden, Albus could see Aberforth running around the yard, chasing chickens; he was obviously trying to put off his chores for as long as possible.

"Albus, how's it coming?" Kendra said suddenly from behind him, and it was all he could to do stop himself from jumping in surprise. He immediately grabbed a weed and tore it from the ground, acting as if he had been doing so the entire time, then turned to look at his mother. She was dressed in a simple Muggle dress, and a wooden basket was hanging on her arm.

She surveyed the small pile of weeds with approval. "Very nice. You did this quickly too. See? You don't have to do magic in order to get a job done." Albus chuckled nervously.

"I reckon you're right, mum."

She gave him a small smile, a rarity for her; she was clearly in a good mood this morning.

"I'm going to take the eggs to the Muggle market. Aberforth is coming with me. While you're weeding, watch Ariana, won't you?"

Albus spotted Ariana playing in the yard with Aberforth. He nodded.

"Where's father?"

"He's in the house; he has a bit of work to do for the Ministry before the weekend is up. Try not to bother him, it's very important."

Albus nodded. He was used to his father working late; the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office was fairly understaffed. "Alright, mum."

"Aberforth! Come along. Do you have the eggs?" she called. Albus could see his brother's guilty expression from the yard. Clearly he didn't have a single one.

"Uhm... hold on a second, mum..."

Kendra gave him a stern look, then waved her wand.

"Accio Eggs!" A couple dozen eggs flew from the hen house across the yard, landing in a neat pile in her basket. She flicked her wand once more, and Aberforth's grubby robes transformed into some suitable Muggle clothing: a coat and knickers. Aberforth looked appalled.

"But mum, I hate wearing Muggle clothes! Why do I have to wear these?"

"We're going to the Muggle market, I told you!" she said harshly, grabbing his arm firmly and practically dragging him across the yard and through the gate. Albus could still hear his brother wailing after they were out of sight.

Albus sighed with mild relief. Now that his mother was out of the way, he didn't have to worry about being discovered using magic to perform his chores. There was still his father to worry about of course, but he tended to get absorbed in his work; besides, he tended to turn a blind eye on Albus when he was trying to practice his magic.

He continued to pull weeds by magic, stopping occasionally to pick one by hand if he couldn't manage the task magically. Every now and then he would glance up to check on his six-year-old sister; she was entertaining herself by chasing a butterfly. She suddenly froze; the butterfly had inexplicably transformed into a ragdoll, which fell to the ground with a gentle thump. She stared at Albus, bright-eyed.

"Did you see that?" she asked excitedly.

"I did, good job." Albus said with a smile. It wasn't uncommon, he knew, for Wizarding children to have random bursts of uncontrolled magical ability. Ariana picked up the doll and began playing with it instead.

"I wish mummy could have seen..."

Albus didn't answer, suddenly struck by an idea. His mother's watchful eye was gone... as long as he didn't alert his father, what was to stop him from continuing his potions experiment from the night before? If he perfected a better Calming Draught by the time he arrived at Hogwarts, surely he'd be able to rise to the top of his Potions class at the least...

"Ariana, stay here!" Albus said, running off into the house.

"But where are you going?" she called after him, but he ignored her. He didn't have very long; his mother probably wouldn't be at the market for a terribly long time. He crept carefully through the house; as he expected, his father was in his study, hunched over his desk and scribbling on a piece of parchment. Albus went completely unnoticed as he crept down the hall and stole into his parents' bedroom.

On his knees, he dragged his father's heavy trunk from under the bed; as he tried to open it, he found with dismay that it was locked. Of course... his mother wouldn't have left it open after he had gotten caught the night before. Still, all was not lost; he knew what to do. While he'd never gotten a chance to try out the spell before, he had read enough about its theory that he felt fairly confident in his ability to make it work. He rolled back his sleeves nervously and took a deep breath.

"Alohomora," he whispered. The lock on the chest shook feebly, but didn't budge. He sighed. If only he had a wand, this would probably have worked...

"Albus? What are you doing?"

Albus jumped to his feet. His father was looking at him sternly.

"Er, I was..."

"Trying to break into my things?"

Albus could feel his father's electric blue eyes boring into him, as if he could see into his very soul. He nodded numbly, unable to meet his gaze. Percival sighed.

"Come now... is it really so necessary to defy your mother at least four times a day? I saw you using magic out in the garden," he added by way of explaination, a small smile on his lips. Albus blushed, his face matching his auburn hair.

"I... I'm sorry, father."

"You don't have to apologize to me, my boy." He tapped him on the head, then smiled more widely. "Have you been blessed with brilliance, or have I been wrong? If you have, then prove it to me by showing a little more patience. You'll be off at Hogwarts in a little less than a year; you can wait until then to perfect the Calming Draught." Albus blushed once more, and Percival chuckled.

"Yes sir." Albus hesitated; Aberforth's question from that morning suddenly popped into his head, and for some inexplicable reason he had the urge to ask it. "Father, why--"

A bloodcurdling scream rang out, cutting him off in midsentence. For one heartstopping moment, Albus and his father stared at each other, eyes wide with shock; then Percival tore off through the house, Albus hurrying in his wake.

The scene that met them as they reached the yard made Albus's blood run cold. Ariana was on the ground, sobbing. Three Muggle boys were on top of her; one was twisting Ariana's arms behind her head, another had his hands tightly around her neck, and the third was standing over them, laughing cruelly. An abandoned rubber ball was lying in the grass, but the ragdoll was nowhere to be found. Immediately Albus knew with a jolt what had happened: the three boys had seen her doing magic, turning the doll into a toy ball.

Albus felt like all the air had been forced out of his lungs. He felt dizzy; he was barely aware that his father was still standing next to him. The Muggle boys' ugly, jeering faces looked up; they suddenly drained of all color, and Albus couldn't figure out why until he looked up at his father.

A change had come over the gentle man Albus had known his whole life. Percival was standing, wand pointed directly at the three boys, a look of cold fury on his face. His black robes billowed out around him, and his blue eyes looked as wild as an animal's. Albus felt genuinely frightened; he had never seen his father like this before.

Then, several things happened at once. The three Muggles suddenly took off running, headed for the hedge; he saw the tip his father's wand slash through the air; with a sickening squelching sound, blood erupted from the face of one of the Muggle boys, who howled in pain, collapsing on the ground...

The other two boys kept running, breaking through the hedge, and his father tore off after him.

"Father, FATHER! NO!" Albus shouted, snatching at the fleeing hem of Percival's robes, to try to stop him, hinder him, anything, but his fist closed on thin air. Running past his now unconscious sister and the bloody, whimpering Muggle, Albus tore off after his father, but it was no use; the grown man easily outstripped his ten-year-old son.

Albus forced his way through the hedge and came out onto a dirt path. Looking around desperately for his father, Albus spotted him, arms tight around one of the Muggle boys, his wand apparently forgotten. The third boy was gone, apparently having abandoned his companions. Albus felt the air rush back into his lungs, icy cold, filling him with dread and disbelief; he knew what his father was trying to do, and he knew that he had to stop it before--

Several loud CRACKs echoed around them, and a chorus of voices bellowed "Stupefy!" as the autumn air was filled with red light. Albus felt his heart stop. It was too late.

Lying unconscious on the ground, surrounded by Ministry officials, was Percival Dumbledore. For the first time in his life, Albus's mind failed him. Everything seemed to be crashing down around him; before he could even register what had happened, he collapsed.