Chapter 16: Giving Up

Albus entered the church early the next morning, despite the fact that he'd had to help Aberforth milk the goats, Hokey and Pokey, which took an excruciatingly long time to him, and have a long, drawn out breakfast where Ariana had on of her episodes because Albus knocked her while he was reaching for the butter, but he managed to get away from his family.

The church was completely silent and, seemingly, empty. His footsteps echoed down the main aisle as he got closer to the altar, which was painted with the story of the last judgement. But, Albus knew something that the Muggles of the village didn't know.

The eyes of one of the angels in the painting blinked at Albus. He was always the most helpful one.

"Where are the archives?"

The angel's eyes moved to the right and then down. Albus smiled, thanked him, and went off to the right, down the steps and into a door beside the altar.

He found the steps easily, for they were right ahead of him. In here, his footsteps weren't nearly as loud, and that comforted him.

Albus stopped once he stepped off the stairs. There was a line of doors in the dark hallway, each with words or numbers painted on the door. He walked down, reading the black lettering: Mr. James Jackson, Mr. Frederick Sampson, Classroom 1, Classroom 2, Mrs. Selena David, Library, and then, finally, at the very end of the hall, he came across Archives.

He smiled to himself and reached out for the door handle.

"Can I help you?"

Albus spun around, feeling foolish immediately at how spooked he'd been. His hand, seemingly on its on accord even reached toward his wand! But, it was only a man who had stepped out of one of the rooms. Albus remembered that door saying James Jackson on it.

"Yes," Albus said, composing himself. He stood up tall and put his hands behind his back in a civil manner. "My name is Albus Dumbledore. I was hoping if I could look through the archives."

Mr. Jackson stared at him. Albus wasn't sure if he was a Muggle or magical. He couldn't sense any magic down the hallways, at least.

"Dumbledore?" Mr. Jackson said, thinking. Albus waited patiently, seeing if the man could recall Albus's family. "Oh, yes! You live on- Yes." He paused for a second, looking abruptly downcast. "But, I'm sorry, there are rules for looking in the archives. Are you looking for members of your own family?"

"No, sir," Albus said honestly. He thought it best to be truthful. He couldn't get a bad reputation in the place where he lived.

"I can't allow you entrance."

"Understandable," Albus said. "Thank you."

Albus went back up the hallway, not even giving a second glance at the man, but as he stepped onto the stairs again, he didn't feel defeated in the slightest.

He'd come back very soon.

Albus strolled back to his house with his hands closed tightly behind his back. He was sure that if anyone saw him they wouldn't have been able to tell he was thinking as hard as he was- especially about the fact that he was plotting on breaking into a sacred ground.

Albus almost laughed about that. He wasn't sure why, but he couldn't help but smile at the irony of that. Him, an Outstanding student of Hogwarts who was on the Junior Wizengamot… ready to break into a church run by Muggles who had little idea there were lots of magical folk joining in with their congregations.

"Hello, Mr. Dumbledore."

Albus's smile fell.

He turned around, already knowing who was behind him because he knew perfectly well where he was.

And, sure enough, Cadmus Potter was standing there at the gate of his house, dressed in normal Muggle clothes.

Immediately, Albus was struck by how closely Harry resembled him. Same black hair- though, Cadmus had his tamed and parted to the side- same face shape, same body type and height as both his son and Harry. Albus had to blink a couple times to get Harry out of his mind.

"Hello, Mr. Potter," Albus said, nodding, and already starting to walk away.

"Dumbledore, wait," Mr. Potter said. Albus heard the squeak of his gate. "I need to oil that," he muttered. Albus turned, watching as Cadmus held the gate open. "I was wondering if I could speak with you."

"Of course," Albus said, already knowing exactly what he wanted to talk about. And that made him slightly nervous, but he didn't show it.

"Come in, have some tea," Cadmus said, ushering him through the gate.

If Albus was hesitant, he didn't exhibit it at all. He stepped forward and walked up the path to the door with Cadmus behind him.

"Your mother is doing well?" he asked as he opened the front door for him.

"Yes, sir, she's well," he said.

Cadmus entered the kitchen. Albus noticed Atticus Potter sitting at the table with a book in front of him, but he wasn't looking at it, instead his eyes were shifting back and forth between Cadmus and Albus.

"Father-"

"Son, the chickens need feeding, don't they?"

"They've- oh fine," Atticus said, standing. Albus wonered if the boy sensed something about this meeting. Albus had never been invited into the Potter house before, so it was entirely possible Atticus thought something was going on. Once the back door closed, Cadmus let Albus sit down and made the tea. Albus vaguely wondered where Mrs. Potter was, but didn't question it.

"You're a seventh year, correct?" Cadmus asked.

"Yes, sir."

"I've heard excellent remarks about you," he said as he put the tea in front of Albus. He sat down across from him very casually, like he wasn't going to interrogate him later. "What kind of career are you pursuing after school?"

"Ministry work," Albus said immediately. "The Minister has already talked to me about becoming undersecretary."

Cadmus sighed. "Have you thought about the Auror office? We're looking for new recruits. We need someone with induction and deduction skills, as well as a large knowledge of defense."

"My best subject is Transfiguration," Albus said like that made all the difference. He knew plenty about defense, but he understood Transfiguration as if it were a child's book.

"Then you'll know disguise," Cadmus said, nodding. "I know it may not be what you're aiming for, but give it a shot? We would love to have someone like you."

Albus was honestly flattered, but he had to shake his head. He wanted to be Minister of magic. Not an Auror. "Sorry, sir, I have a path already planned out. Now, forgive me, there was something else you wished to speak to me about?"

Cadmus smiled. "How do you know that wasn't it?"

Albus smiled as well and could feel it light up his eyes. Now he understood exactly why Merrythought hadn't told him anything about Harry's whereabouts. She'd known he'd be questioned eventually. "Seeing as you've got an investigation going on about a certain assistant professor, who Professor Black surely has told you I've spent time with, I could only assume you wished to have my side of the story."

"And what is your side of the story?" Cadmus asked, leaning forward.

Albus continued to smile kindly. "I don't know anything about Harry Potter's past," which was mostly the truth. "I have no idea why there's an interest in him. Personally, I believe he is just a normal eighteen year old who is even more excellent at defense than I or Professor Merrythought. I don't know anything about his training, where he's from, or if he is at all related to your family. As his student, I never delved into his personal life because that would be inappropriate."

Cadmus' face fell as Albus talked. Of course Albus was lying through his teeth, but Albus could lie better than anyone else he'd ever come across. He did, in fact, want to know about Harry's life, probably even more than Cadmus Potter did. Harry was a key to the future and knew too much information for him to not want to find out about what would happen later.

"With that said," Albus continued. "I don't know the reasoning for his abrupt departure, nor where he's gone. I expect he's gone back to where he grew up, but that is only a guess. Perhaps a family member became ill. I do not know."

Cadmus was frowning by the time Albus finished, looking completely defeated. "He said nothing at all?"

"No, sir," Albus said. "Everything we've ever talked about has been purely academic. He's taught me a few defense moves, if you'd like to see those. They're quite effective."

Cadmus shook his head and Albus reached for his tea. He wasn't at all thirsty, but he thought it was rude to not drink it after Cadmus made it for him.

"Thank you, Dumbledore," Cadmus said. "If you recall any information, I ask you report it."

Albus nodded and stood at the same time as Cadmus. That was almost too easy, he thought as Cadmus closed the door behind Albus.

Albus made it to his house, still thinking about the archives.

When he thought about it, though- and this was something that made his heart sink completely- he was sure Cadmus wouldn't have left any information about the Potters in the church. He would have used it to see if he could find any mention of a Harry Potter born eighteen years ago, just to see if there was anymore information that the Ministry didn't have in their own archives. That meant that any ancestral information would have been taken out as well, so there would not be a mention of the Peverell's, nor would there be any link to the current Potter family that could lead him to the future family.

When he thought about it, it would be useless to even look.

There was no doubt in Albus' mind that Cadmus took that information out.

Useless.

Later that evening, the Dumbledores gathered around the fire. Albus tried to read, but Aberforth was telling the story of Babbity Rabbity to Ariana, so theatrically that he was jumping around the room and barking as he told it from memory. Albus stared at him with a severe frown, waiting for him to stop. The only thing that Albus was okay with was the fact that Ariana was smiling serenely at her other brother. She enjoyed stories, always had, even before the accident that ruined her.

She was the only reason why he didn't tell Aberforth to stop.

"Aberforth, quiet down."

Albus looked up at his mother, who was sitting in Percival's old leather chair by the fireplace. She was knitting what looked like a sweater for Ariana and wasn't even looking at Aberforth.

"But Ariana likes it, Mother," Aberforth whined.

"Albus is trying to study," his mother said. "Please be respectful, dear."

Aberforth glared at Albus. "Fine," and he continued to tell the rest of the story to Ariana quietly. Albus went back to his reading for Transfiguration. Sometimes he wished he could be finished with school. He knew already how to do all the spells in the book, and even knew how to do more. He couldn't wait for the N.E.W.T. exams in June.

Aberforth's story finished. Albus was glad for the silence from Aberforth, who lay down on the dusty carpet in the middle of the room afterward. Albus thought he'd fallen asleep, and went back to his book, but after a few minutes, his reading was disturbed again.

"Mother," said Aberforth. "Can you tell one of the stories?"

"I don't think I've memorized them like you have," their mother said. "Why don't you tell another one?"

Albus's eyes were still set directly on the page of the book, but only did so because he was scared that if he looked up, he would lash out at his mother or Aberforth. So, he just waited, to see what story Aberforth would tell before he left the room to go up to his room to read by candle light.

"There were once three brothers who were traveling along a lonely, winding road at twilight," Aberforth recited.

Albus blinked as Aberforth stood up and started acting it out, pretending to walk along a path. "In time, the brothers reached a river to deep to wade through…"

He continued like this and Albus couldn't help but watch as Aberforth talked about the brothers with their wand, stone, and cloak. Albus couldn't help it but to listen, sitting there on at the hearth of the fire stiffly, with the book still clutched in his hands as if he were reading it.

Albus loved this story. He, too, could recite it as perfectly as Aberforth could.

He wished he could get to those archives, see if the stories were true- see if that marking on one of the Peverell's headstones was really the markings of the hallows. He wanted to know so badly if they were real.

He wanted to know what Harry knew about them.

He didn't understand how every thought he had somehow turned to that mysterious time-traveler. Harry had so much information. Albus wanted so desperately to know it.

As Aberforth's story winded down, Albus stared at nothing in particular, but inside he felt like he would burst. He needed to find out what happened to Harry. His curiosity was getting too high for this guess work.

But, no matter how much he wanted it at that moment, he knew there wasn't a way he could get it. Why couldn't have Merrythought told him where Harry was? Was that really for a security measure, or did Harry not want to be found? If the latter was so, then who was he running from? The Ministry or… could it be possible he didn't want to be found by Albus?

Albus sighed, returning to his book once Aberforth collapsed back onto the carpet.

He was getting so antsy. He wanted to learn more, but he couldn't. Harry wasn't there.

The days went by.

Christmas came and passed.

He apparated Aberforth to the train station and traveled to Hogwarts by the Hogwarts Express. When dinner came for the spring term, he looked up at Head table, practically expecting Harry to be there, but he wasn't. He could see Atticus Potter a few seats down from him, and all through dinner, Harry was all that Albus thought about. He felt the same desperation to talk to him as he had when Aberforth told The Tale of Three Brothers.

He wondered if he was with Nicolas Flamel.

But, when he visited Flamel in February with his put outer, there was no sign that Harry was with him at all.

"Great work, Albus," Flamel said as he clicked the object. The flame of the candle on his desk flickered some, but that was it. "You're getting very close."

Albus smiled, his eyes twinkling as Flamel gave him the device back.

"Start thinking up a name for it."

There was a moment's pause. Albus hesitated, wondering if he should really ask.

"Sir," Albus said as he placed it in his cloak pocket. Flamel gruffed at him to continue. "Have you heard from Harry?"

Flamel laughed and crossed the room with more speed than Albus could have thought a man so old could have. In his mind, he made a mental note to have energy like that when he was older as Flamel stirred a cauldron on his work desk.

"The potion is nearly there," he said. "I'll have to contact Potter soon to tell him that it may be ready much earlier than I had believed before."

Albus blinked, his heart stopping. "How much earlier, sir?"

"Perhaps May," he said. "We shall see."

Albus' heart began beating too fast. That meant there was less time to talk to Harry. "So, you know where he is?"

"Of course I do," Flamel said. "But that information is strictly between him and me. Don't ask again, Dumbledore. He's doing something very important."

"As in?"

Flamel shook his head. "He'll tell you if you ever meet with him again."

'If you ever meet with him again.'

Albus felt physically sick after he left Flamel's home. He couldn't believe it. It was like he had just heard someone had died. Harry was still there, his body was somewhere, but he was completely unreachable.

It took Albus a week to come to terms with that.

And by March, he told himself during a long, boring lecture in History of Magic that he needed to stop. The future of seeing Harry didn't seem very bright. He kept getting updates on the potion from Flamel. It seemed like it would really, truly be ready in two months, at the end of May. As Albus held onto his current letter from Flamel during that class, he knew he had to stop worrying about it.

He could ask Harry in a hundred years.

It seemed impossible, though, to wait that long. But, it seemed like that was the only thing he could do.

When he left History of Magic, he went straight to the library to study for his N.E.. He needed to put all his focus on that, instead.

And he did.

A/N: Ugh, I know, I know. I'm such a horrible person. I can't believe it's January now and I haven't updated since July! That's insane. I'm so, so sorry. I was going through some personal health issues during the fall semester and was trying so hard to work those out and trying to keep up with school work that I hardly wrote at all. But, I'm back now. I'm so, so sorry for the wait! I feel horrible.

Sorry for the short chapter, but I needed to stop it there. I'm already working on the next one, and that one should be up shortly because I know exactly where I'm going with it.

Also, shameless plug- My sister and I are working on collaboration stories. They're just short Harry Potter stories where we alternate each chapter between each other. /~purplesuit if you want to read more from me. Thanks :) Sorry for the plug.