Sorry for not uploading this part a little earlier, was caught up in a bit of coursework. I wanted this chapter to be a link between the many threads that result in Dumbledore's turning. Hope ya'll like it. This chapter's dedicated t me friend, HarryRockz.

Chapter IV

It was a cloudless morning, flowers in bloom as a pleasant spring sun shone in the vast blue skies. There was still a cool breeze, the short green grass waving lackadaisically. There were faint sounds of laughter of the children playing in the distance. Delighted squeals and peels of effervescent giggles could be heard every so often as the children engaged in their innocent, often boisterous games.

Apart from all this was a young girl, about six years old, playing alone in her backyard. She was a sweet thing, wearing a crisp white dress with colorful flower patterns and her golden hair falling in curls to her shoulders. She was giggling merrily as she lifted a pretty red flower off the grass while another white flower was picked up by her other hand. However, her fingers didn't touch the blooms, which floated independently in the air, slowly revolving around her now. She giggled ecstatically. She was about to levitate a smooth pebble from the ground, when three boys emerged from between the hedges. She was startled to see the strangers, the smile vanishing from her face as the flying objects tumbled out of the air. She looked scared as she eyed the three boys slowly, who were advancing on her menacingly.

"Do that again." The fat one in the middle shouted at her. Fear and fascination mingled in his chubby, ruddy face glistening with sweat. They had obviously been hiding in the bushes, watching her. Her scared eyes darted from one boy to the next, as she slowly began to back away, shaking her head slightly.

"C'mon, do itcha freak. Make them fly, NOW!" The scrawny on with the pockmarked visage yelled at her.

"Yeah, do it before we force ya. Show us." The third one piped in, balling his fists. The little girl humped a little as he stepped forward sharply.

"I can't! I can't!" She said meekly, her tiny voice trembling.

"Why you little…" the fat one said, grabbing her petite right arm and shaking her violently.

"Do it NOW!" he yelled again, his eyes bulging.

The little girl's eyes started to overflow with tears as she looked at the boys surrounding her. She started to bawl in earnest, hoping that her brothers could hear her.

"I can't! I can't..."

Albus woke up drenched in sweat, his mouth dry and his breathe frantic, in his dark room in Godric's Hollow. He looked around the room wildly for his wand, and lit it as soon as he found it. He quickly jumped out of bed and silently made his way to the room downstairs and peered in. Ariana was sleeping soundly, Aberforth lying next to her, his arms protectively around his little sister. Albus sighed, and walked back to his room. He sat down on his bed, heaved another sigh, running his fingers through his long hair.

How his life had changed that day, he thought. Ariana was never the same after whatever those boys did to her- she could not (or would not) say much. But it had made her refuse to do magic, and very traumatized, some fear or apprehension taking deep root in her tender heart. The magic had, instead, drove in her and addled her mind, making her unstable and prone to explosive magical outburst. His father had gone after the culprits, had punished them gruesomely, and ended up in Azkaban, where he spent the rest of his short life. His poor mother, ashamed and scandalized, had to uproot the family and move to Godric's Hollow. Then, not too long ago, his mother had ended up dead in another one of Ariana's frequent outbursts. The three Dumbledore children where orphaned, and he had to take control of the household, putting his own life on the back burner.

How unjust life was, he began to think. If it had not been for that fateful day, his parents would still have been here, and his family would have been whole and untarnished. His sister could have gone to Hogwarts and exercise her abilities with her peers, and he could've made far better far better use of his time. He could have gone on the world tour with Elphias, could've gained more real experience and enhanced his already formidable skills, He could have delved deeper into the intricacies and complexities of magic, and could have attained immense knowledge and a station worthy of his powers. If it hadn't been for that day, if it weren't for those three boys. Those three muggle boys and their blind prejudiced fears.

And here he was, off age, out of school with top grades, stuck in his sleepy old village, with the sole responsibility of a fragile sister and a wayward brother. There wasn't much scope for his powers and intellect to come into play here, other than the occasional article or correspondences with his many acquaintances and fellow intellectuals. How his talent, and life, was being wasted, he thought with a tinge of bitterness. It was an injustice. It was cruel.

If only he could get hold of the Resurrection Stone, Albus thought wistfully. He could have brought his parents back, and they could take all the responsibilities off him and enable him to fulfill his dreams. He could go with Gellert in search of the other mysteries of magic and perhaps even become the minister for Magic one day.

However, it was all for naught, his heart told him. Fate, in the form of the three Muggle boys, had made it improbable. Albus felt the bitterness and injustice of it all seep through his veins. This Muggle prejudice was the root of all his problems, he told himself. It was time to rise up and show them to their rightful place. Wizards were the more gifted people, the more worthy to rule, and be the benevolent masters over the Mugles! He could just imagine himself lording over the race of non-magic beings, putting an end to the centuries of oppression, hatred and the pitiable hidden life of the wizardkind.

But, he thought, it wasn't just for the benefit of the wizards. I was also for the good of the Muggles themselves. Wizards could show them a better life, a far safer and beautiful world to live in, devoid of bitter conflicts and petty prejudices. So what if they had to make a few sacrifices along the way? What if they had to remove a few obstacles along the path they had to tread? The ends justified the means, did it not? It wasn't just for the betterment of the wizards or Muggles, but for a afar nobler end. A Greater Good!

Just as the thought formed in his head, Albus felt it as a stroke of genius. The Greater Good! What a perfect notion to champion their noble cause! He immediately took out a parchment and quill from the drawer and quickly wrote a note to Gellert, unmindful of the late hour. As soon as he was finished, he sent it off into the night with his grumpy old owl.

He smiled a little as he watched the owl vanish into the night, in the direction of Bagshot Place. His lips still held the sweet taste of Gellert from when he had kissed him earlier. It was intoxicating. It had surprised him immensely when Gellert had stepped forward and kissed him. Off course, he had been yearning for any kind of intimate physical contact with the exotic newcomer in his life, but this was unprecedented. He still went radish-red when he thought of Gellert's sweet lips on his. Though the kiss was fleeting, and they both had smiled embarrassedly after it, Albus was grinning broadly when he made his way back to his house. Although he had nursed a deep attraction towards his brilliant young companion ever since he had first laid eyes on him, he had never expected anything to come off it. It was something he had never experienced before, something he knew wasn't quite usual. Yet, he couldn't help but thirst for more. The morning couldn't come sooner.