Chapter 32: The Funeral
Albus leant up against the tree, staring up at Grindelwald's window. Bathilda said she'd woken up that morning to find all his things had been cleared out, despite an Auror standing watch outside.
Albus still couldn't believe his best friend had betrayed him like that. But then, he guessed Grindelwald wasn't really his friend. He'd left quickly, as soon as Ariana died. He left for good.
He knew Grindelwald was never coming back. Frankly, Albus didn't want to see him again. He was part of the reason why Ariana was dead. Albus couldn't even live with himself knowing that he could have easily been the one who actually killed her.
He'd set the funeral for the next day, his 18th birthday, without even realizing it until Aberforth said he was angry at him for setting it then. It would be an early service, though, so he had the rest of the day to wonder what he was going to do with his eighteenth year.
Albus jerked his head away from Grindelwald's window. No use staring at it when he wasn't even there. He sighed and stood to go around to the back garden to see how Aberforth was doing.
"Go away," Aberforth said as Albus approached him and the goats.
"Are you going to Hogwarts?" Albus asked.
Aberforth just huffed and pushed his blond hair out of his face. "What are you going to do? Sulk around here?"
"Definitely not," he said, sitting down on an upturned bucket.
"Hmpf," Aberforth said.
Aberforth hadn't wanted to talk all day. Albus didn't really, either. He'd only spoken to the pastor at the church and the grave attendant earlier that day. He decided that the funeral would only be graveside with his mother's sisters the only ones to be invited. Bathilda would come, as well. He just wanted something small and private. Aberforth felt the same.
He twisted a piece of grass around his finger, watching it turn from a light peach to a purple.
"You're going to cut your finger off if you do that long enough," Aberforth said.
"Magic can fix that, Ab."
"Magic can't fix everything."
Albus sighed and stood. "I'm going on a walk."
He wandered through the woods, just letting his thoughts overtake him. He found himself in the meadow where he and Harry met up. He lay on his back and stared up at the sky, watching the clouds as they passed by. Fawkes joined him soon after and he ran his hand absentmindedly through his plumage.
He wanted to know what he was doing with his life. He was so lost that he felt like his abilities were being wasted. He wasn't good enough for anything like his professors thought he would be. He was only good at school, wasn't he? Nothing else. He couldn't trust himself. Who knew what he could really do if he was given free reign.
He sighed and closed his eyes. What to do. What could he do? The Ministry was out of the question. He could find a good book shop to work in, or maybe an apothecary. He could become an apprentice, but he wasn't sure what to apprentice in.
How did he go from knowing exactly what he was going to do to not knowing at all? He was sure he'd be the Undersecretary in the Ministry, then he was sure he'd be partnered with Grindelwald. Now he had no prospects.
The sun was setting. He headed back toward the house, walking slowly through the woods.
Aberforth was sleeping on the floor when he got back. He sighed and lit a fire to read by.
Harry was nestled in the woods the next night. He could see that another fire was in the grate at the Dumbledore's. At least this time an Auror wasn't hanging around Bathilda's. He hadn't realized that one was there until early into the morning the night before. He supposed Grindelwald had come back to collect his things, probably he was now gone for good.
It was two before he saw Albus stand at the window again.
Harry wanted to talk to him more than anything. He felt constricted by following Flamel's orders. He was trying to restrain himself, but the older he got, the more he realized he needed to stop himself from rule-breaking. Technically, he was doing just that by being in Godric's Hollow, but this was a look out. He wasn't talking to Albus.
Harry wondered when the funeral would be. He'd gone to the church earlier and saw that they'd already dug the grave for her and already etched in the stone, just as Harry had see it on that Christmas Eve. The only difference was that the stone not was marred from age. It was pristine and new, just like the graves he'd seen of everyone who died in the Battle of Hogwarts.
In the window, Albus turned away, but the light didn't dim.
Harry frowned, wishing none of that had happened. He still felt guilty. He'd had the power to change it, but the power was useless. He couldn't change the timeline. No one ever could.
Albus walked side-by-side his brother to the church. Bathilda was leading the way, walking fast as if they'd miss the funeral.
"Your tie is crooked," Albus said, reaching over to fix it. Aberforth jerked away and glared at him.
He didn't say a word, though, as they made their way through the graveyard.
His aunts and their husbands were there already. The two hugged Margaret and Katrina, then they stood around the grave. Ariana's casket was already hovering above the grave.
"We are gathered here today-" said the pastor.
"Wait!" someone called out.
Albus turned just in time to Elphias stumble over a short grave a short distance away. He let a small smile form on his lips, but it dropped immediately. He didn't want to smile. He couldn't anymore.
Elphias stopped right next to Albus, leaning against him and breathing heavily. "Sorry I'm late. I just heard the news. I'm so sorry, Albus, Aberforth."
Albus nodded and looked down at the casket solemnly. "It's… it's all right."
"All right?" Aberforth repeated, looking at Albus. His blue eyes narrowed. "This is not all right, Albus! This is very far from all right."
"I-" Albus started. "I just meant-"
"This wouldn't have happened if you hadn't become friends with that bastard!" Aberforth yelled, his hands curling into fists.
"I know!" Albus yelled back, glaring at Aberforth. "Do you think I don't realize-"
He only saw a blur and then a sickening crunch sounded too close to his head. A second later, his face began to throb, specifically his nose and knees. His hands immediately jumped to his face and he felt something thick and wet on his hand. He looked at it and saw that a pool of bright red blood had formed in his palm. His eyes became watery and he was shocked to realize he was kneeling on the ground.
"Aberforth!" Bathilda called out.
"Here, let me-" she said. Albus could just see her pull out her wand, but he cold barely see anything else.
Albus shook his head and choked out a sob, then pushed passed Bathilda and Elphias. "Nob, I don'b wanb ib."
"Albus, be-"
"Nob!" he said, pushing her out of the way. He just wanted to leave. He didn't want to do this anymore.
He rushed away, tripping over a grave stone just like Elphias did. He didn't let it stop him, though.
Harry's eyes widened as soon as he heard the crack of knuckles against cartilage. A force that had been pressing around Harry since Albus yelled at Aberforth subsided. Albus was down on his knees, clutching his nose as blood began to drip through his fingers.
Aberforth kicked the ground, looking as if he meant to kick Albus but decided against it last second.
"Aberforth!" Bathilda said, dropping to Albus's side.
Bathilda tried to fix it for him, but Albus bluntly refused and pushed her away. Blood dripped through his fingers as he ran off toward the woods instead of town.
Harry ran after Albus, dodging the headstones much more easily than Albus did. Soon, though, he lost Albus within the trees and instead followed the blood stains on the ground. Footsteps followed close behind him, though he didn't bother to look. He knew they were Elphias's. He was the only one besides Harry who would follow Albus.
They ran for five minutes, not saying anything to each other until the found Albus leaning up against a tree in the meadow.
His robes were stained with blood and he was wiping his face continually, blood mixing with tears.
"Albus," Elphias said, falling beside him.
"Elbias," Albus said through his tears. "I dibn't meab to. Why can't he just kilb me? I deserbe it. Ib's all my faulb. Ib's all mineb."
Elphias shook his head. "No, you didn't do it. You know it."
"I dib!" he yelled. Harry swallowed, watching on. "I dib…"
Elphias put his arms around his oldest friend. Albus fell immediately into him. Harry just stood and watched, covered by the invisibility cloak, one of things that led Albus to this. He'd been striving for it, but now al he had was a broken nose, a dead sister, and an angry brother.
In the distance, he could hear Fawkes' cries as he flew closer, coming to comfort his owner. The sound of both Albus' and Fawkes' cries overwhelmed Harry, the phoenix's song too sad, hardly uplifting.
He fell to his knees, tears slowly escaping his tear ducts. The sound was so painful. It reminded Harry too much of his last song after Dumbledore died. So painful to see his old mentor in such pain, just like the cave all over again, but this time new and real like the gravestone.
Albus couldn't stop. It was impossible for him, even when Fawkes swooped down next to him to rub his face against Albus's blood stained hand.
Fawkes cooed.
Harry could tell Albus was just letting the pain tear him to pieces.
Elphias led Albus away through the trees. His nose still throbbed, he couldn't breathe, and his head pounded. Fawkes clutched onto his shoulder, singing softly to him.
"I shoulb leabe," Albus said. Fawkes rested his head against Albus'. "I habe to."
Elphias shook his head. "No. Stay here. Your brother needs you."
"Nob, he doesn'b," he said. "He neebs Ariana. Nob meb."
"Why won't you let us fix your nose? I can't understand what you're saying."
"I deserbe much more than a broken nose."
They were beginning to approach town just as the sun hit high noon. Albus dropped his head when he noticed the town's people watch him. Elphias continued to lead him to the house. He, in fact, was the only person he welcomed at the moment. Albus looked behind him once, knowing that Harry was trailing behind.
As they headed up the path to the house, Albus stopped midway, looking straight up at it. He didn't want to go in again.
"Albus," Harry said from behind him.
He turned to look at him, wondering what his reaction would be when he set his eyes on him. Harry wasn't hiding. And Albus didn't have to wonder for long what emotion he'd have. All he could think was Harry had left him. He left! And now he was going to leave again. This time for good, for 80 years.
"You knew," Albus said darkly, anger pulsing through his body. "You knew this wholb time."
"You saw my memories of your brother," Harry said.
"Why!" Albus yelled. "Why didn'b you tell me before!"
Harry took a step back. "I couldn't change anything! Believe me, I wanted to. I never wanted you to suffer this way. But this had to happen!"
Albus started shaking. Fawkes cooed again, trying to calm him, but even he couldn't stop it. Albus drew his wand and Harry drew his.
"Albus," Elphias warned.
"Albus, please, I know you're angry."
"Angry!" Albus yelled. "Nob! You coub've stopped this! You dibn'b!"
A red light shot out of Albus's wand. Harry yelled out, "Expelliarmus!" and dodged the spell. As Albus's wand flew out of his hand, the gate lining the yard burst into flames.
Elphias said, "Aguamenti," to put out the fire. Albus just wished the fire spread. He waved his hand and Harry was thrown back. He wanted Harry to hurt. He let this happen when he could have warned him instead. He would've been more cautious. He knew it.
"Albus Dumbledore! Stop!"
He looked up, seeing Bathilda run toward him down the road. Her wand was out and immediately his magic released. He glanced at Harry, who attempted to stand, but each time he tried, he fell back.
"You're better than that!" Bathilda yelled, stepping through the gate and stomping up to him. "You know you are."
Albus doubted it. After all he did in the past month or so… He'd been foolish and arrogant. Something in her voice, though, something like sincerity, caused him to realize he was actually exhausted. He'd hardly slept since Ariana died.
His face heated up in tears again. He petted Fawkes' head.
"You need sleep," Bathilda said. With a wave of her wand, she cleaned the blood off him, and then tapped her wand against his nose, saying, "Episkey." Immediately he was able to breathe again. "You should've let me fix it before. It's crooked."
"I don't care," Albus said, defeated. He turned on his heel. "I'm going to bed."
No one followed him inside, which he was glad for. But Aberforth was in the front room, messing with the fireplace.
Aberforth glared at him, but Albus couldn't have cared less about that. He deserved it all. He'd been so thick.
"I'm sorry, Aberforth," he said. "I'm so sorry."
Aberforth glared at him and turned back to the fireplace with a grunt. Albus felt more tears slip down his cheek, and with that, he continued on his way to bed.