Chapter 33: Purpose
When Albus woke up, the house was still. The only sound he could hear was Fawkes preening his feathers on the desk. He wondered why he felt so miserable, and realized what had happened again. Now he knew why he hadn't slept for before.
He slipped out of bed and changed out of the clothes he meant to wear to the funeral, though the funeral had never even started.
For a moment, he paced around his room, trying to figure out what he should do. He still wasn't sure. But first, he decided, he needed to talk to someone. And the closest person was Bathilda.
She made him tea and sat him down in her living room. He sipped the tea while Ariana's death replayed in his mind again.
"Albus, don't let this ruin you," she said as she sat down across from him.
He shook his head and pushed away a tear that fell from his eye. "What should I do? I don't know what to do."
"What do you feel in your heart?"
He gnawed on his lip and looked down at the empty grate. "I want to leave. It's my birthday. I want to start again."
"Go where?"
"I don't know."
Bathilda reached over and lifted his chin up. For a long while they stared at each other. She wasn't trying to pry into his mind, though. She was trying to provide comfort. He could see that in her mind. He sighed and looked away.
"Where do you feel safe, Albus?"
He didn't have to think about that. "Hogwarts," he said immediately. "Professor Black doesn't need anyone, though. For work."
"You'd be surprised. Haven't you heard the Ancient Runes professor is retiring?"
Albus shook his head. "I don't know how to teach that. Transfiguration is my best subject. I know Professor Garside isn't retiring anything soon."
Bathilda sighed, letting go of his chin and leaning back in her chair. "You could always take a job at the Ministry."
A sharp pain spread through his chest. It took him a moment to realize it was fear. "No."
"Why not?"
He shook his head. "I can't… It gives me room to more up. I don't want that responsibility. Not anymore."
"Go talk to Phineas, then," Bathilda said, patting his hand. "He'll give you something, I'm sure. Go now. I'll watch Aberforth. Do what your heart tells you."
He nodded, standing, but he didn't make any move to leave. Tears were still slipping down his face. He wished he could stop crying. Bathilda reached up to wipe them off with her thumbs.
"Albus," she said, holding onto the sides of his face and looking into his eyes again. "It's your choices that make you who you are. Not your brilliance."
He choked. "I wish someone had told me that before."
She smiled a sad smile. "Now you know. The hard way. Good luck."
"Thank you."
She nodded and stepped away.
As he apparated from the spot, he knew what she said was completely right.
Harry stood in front of Nicolas Flamel. The Elixir of Epoch was ready and Nicolas was pouring it into a ruby encrusted goblet. Harry's hands were shaking as he reached out to take it.
"Think of the exact time and place you want to appear in," he said.
"Is there any way you can make Dumbledore forget I was here?" Harry asked, looking down at the golden Elixir. It turned from green to gold as soon as he put his hair in.
"Do you really want to deprive him of his memories?"
"Well, no, but it might be safer. For the future."
Nicolas gained a thoughtful expression. Harry swirled the potion.
"Of course. If that is what you wish. The past is a dangerous place to work in. Of course."
"But will you do something else for me?" Harry asked, reaching into his pocket for the two letters he'd written before the funeral even started. "Could you give this one to him before you wipe his memory? And this one, could you charm it to come to him on June 23, 1997? I'd like him to have his memories back before he dies, at least."
Flamel nodded. "You won't see him again, then."
"No, but I've learned more about him in this past year than I did in the six years I knew him in my time."
Harry looked back down at the potion and put it up to his lips. He thought hard about appearing outside of the Auror office in 1998, just a few minutes before the break-in occurred. But even more, he thought about seeing his friends again. He missed Ron, Hermione, and Ginny more than ever before.
The last words he heard before he popped out of a time he never belonged in were, "Good luck, Harry Potter."
"I'm flattered you wish to work here, Dumbledore," Professor Black said, staring steely eyed at him. "But no position is open at the present time. Why not the Ministry? They are looking for-"
"I don't mean to be disrespectful, Professor," said Dumbledore, cutting him off. Black huffed. "I don't trust myself there."
Professor Black laughed humorlessly. "Trust? Trust! Why don't you trust yourself?"
"Not to be arrogant, Professor, most regard me as someone who has enormous potential to be great. I'm scared that if I were there, I'd make political matters worse. I would like to stay here at Hogwarts."
Professor Black sighed and stood, looking about the room as if he were deciding a minor rat problem in the dungeons. Albus's chest fluttered in nervousness. What if he didn't have a job for him? What would he do?
"I do believe…" Professor Black said, running a hand across the books on the shelf. "We would benefit from having a research librarian, to help with what types of books the school should have and to help other students research. Would you be willing to do that?"
"I'll do anything."
Professor Black nodded, not looking at him. "I'll put you on payroll."
Dumbledore smiled and let his eyes twinkle for the first time in days.
"May I walk around?" Dumbledore asked, standing.
"Yes, I suppose I can't stop you."
As he exited the Headmaster's office through the gargoyles, he realized how much calmer Hogwarts felt than Godric's Hollow. This was where Albus had done his best, this was his home. Though the corridors were a bit chilly, a warmth fell over him. He loved this school and he could feel its magic surrounding him in comfort.
Ninety more years until Harry Potter graced these halls, though. He sighed as he let the staircases move around, as if guiding him where to go. Only when they stopped, he realized he was near Merrythought's office. He walked along, looking up at the tapestry of trolls banging each other over the head with their clubs.
The door to the office was ajar and he heard two voices drifting through the crack. He knocked lightly.
Merrythought opened the door, tilting her head immediately when she saw who was standing before her.
"Dumbledore," she said. "What are you doing here?"
He glanced up to see Professor Garside standing by her desk with a piece of parchment in his hand.
"I was just with Professor Black," Dumbledore said, nodding at Garside. "I asked for a job."
"Oh?" Garside said.
Merrythought opened the door all the way and let him in. He stepped into the room, his hands behind him back.
"I'm to work in the library," he announced. "But I was hoping, Professor, if you would mentor me further in Transfiguration."
Garside stared blankly at him, then glanced at Merrythought. "I hate to admit, Dumbledore. I feel you surpassed my abilities around three years ago."
Dumbledore sighed, glancing down at the stone covered floor. Of course he wouldn't be able to. Albus was about to turn away to leave.
"But," Garside said, putting the parchment down on the table. "I believe I'll retire. I've always enjoyed gardening. I would like to leave this school in a few years to pursue that. Would you say yes to being my teaching assistant like Potter was to Merrythought? Eventually I hope you'll become full time professor."
Dumbledore looked up, eyes wide and surprised Garside actually said yes. He nodded. "Thank you, sir. That is very kind of you."
"Where is Harry, anyway?" Merrythought said, sitting at the edge of her desk. "I haven't seen him in months."
Dumbledore shrugged. "I saw him a few hours ago. He's supposed to go back soon, but I'm afraid I was too harsh on him the last I saw him."
"Yes, I know," Merrythought said, glancing at Garside. She left it at that. Garside didn't know the circumstances. Dumbledore was sure he'd go off telling someone if he knew more. "Would you like to stay for tea?"
He nodded and took the seat she offered him. Garside left, saying, "I'll see you on September first."
A few minutes passed silently. Merrythought stirred her tea slowly as she looked down at the grounds thoughtfully. "I did like that boy."
He nodded in agreement. He would miss Harry just as much as he would miss his sister.
"What kind of work will you do here?" she asked.
Albus began talking, but as he did, he felt an intense guilt pass through his entire body. He shouldn't have done that to Harry. There was no reason to blame him. None at all. After an hour, Albus couldn't take the guilt anymore. He left the school to find Harry and apologize.
Of course, Dumbledore never expected this. The fact that Harry left without Albus having time to say sorry made him feel even worse about the incident in front of his house.
"He's gone. I let him go," Flamel said. He paused and his voice became softer. "You'll see him again."
Dumbledore shook his head over and over again, still not believing it. "He won't be born for another 81 years."
"So? What are you going to do in the meantime?"
Dumbledore looked up, his eyes dark. "The meantime? I'm going to live with the guilt that I hurt him for 81 years!"
"It didn't seem to traumatize him as much as you expect," said Flamel, his lips twisting into a small grin. "He left you a letter."
Dumbledore eagerly waited for his mentor to pull out a bit of parchment from his robe pocket. His hand shot out, wanting it, but Flamel held back. "What are you planning on doing with your life, Albus?"
"Hogwarts," he said. "I saw Professor Black. I'm a librarian for now. I'll be Transfiguration professor as soon as Garside retires."
Flamel smiled and finally let Albus take the letter.
He tore open the wax seal, his hands shaking. He wasn't sure why he felt so urgent about this, but he had to see what Harry said.
Dear Albus,
I'm not mad at you. You have every right to be angry with me. I'm sorry I couldn't save your sister and I'm sorry I never told you much about my past. But my past is your future someday. You'll learn.
Harry Potter
Albus frowned, looking onto the back. "That's it?" he said.
But a moment later, Albus saw a wand leave his sight. He blinked in confusion and looked around. Why was he here? Hadn't he just been at Hogwarts talking to Professor Black? Oh, of course. He was telling Flamel about his job.
"Sorry," Albus said, blinking again. "Garside said I'll be his assistant."
Flamel smiled. "He'll probably give you a project like I did. Could I see it? You've worked on it more since I approved it, haven't you?"
"Oh, yes," Albus said, reaching into his pocket. "I called it the Deluminator. I want to add a function that will allow the lights to show you a way if you're ever lost."
"That is a brilliant idea," Flamel said, patting his shoulder. "Tell me more about it and how you think you'll execute it."
For an hour, he forgot all about his sister's death, but he knew the pain of loosing her would never go away. Nor the pain of Gellert Grindelwald's influence.
He wasn't content. But at least he was safe where he was, with only the future ahead of him.