DISCLAIMER: HP belongs to JKR. The storyline, all new characters, new character development, new developments are my intellectual property. Glorioux

First I want to express my thanks to many of you who are here since the day I first published at FFnet. It has been a while.

This is in two parts. Now let's see what is going on with our well intentioned, yet very misguided, and also wicked Albus Dumbledore. Not to worry, because he will get his just deserved comeuppances, from the most unexpected source before it all ends. His Gellert obsession or his sexual preferences, are not what makes him rotten. I think it is his zealousness, as well as his belief that he had the right to manipulate others, and the way he justified all his misdeeds. Many tyrants are like him.

I am amazed that I am in such a daze

Life can be confusing, and yet so very amusing

C'mon let's have this dance together

We will miss some steps, such is life

Read away, live the story, shed a tear

One thing is sure; we will have lots of fun

On this dance floor, we will laugh and cry

Tomorrow is too soon to die, let's keep on living -

Ditty by Glorioux to her readers

And now for the last chapter of Part 1 in two parts- Part 1 of 2.

Albus' Maze

The Headmaster finds himself in a maze of sorts, of our own doing, and stays lost, very.-

Albus sat in his office after his brief stop to see Poppy so she could heal his bleeding bum.

He meditated over the last hours' events. He felt as if he were missing something.

After looking for Poppy at several places, starting at her desk, he finally found her talking to Minerva in her private sitting room; unfortunately, he couldn't hear their conversation because they had casted a privacy charm.

Witches are always gossiping, no surprise there, He thought. Yeah, no wonder that they had quieted upon his entering the room and quickly released the charm. They had been laughing at some private joke.

If he had to be honest, he had never fully understood females, they were too complex; or for that matter, he never had tried to do so, mostly because of their irrational logic; who could follow it? And if that weren't enough, their unpredictable moods often disturbed him. He had been Minerva's lover to make Tom mad; to do it he had fed her a love potion. At the time Minerva was young, androgynous and attractive. It had been easy. At that age most young people were very interchangeable.

The witches' logic was the precise reason whereby most of the top leaders were males; however, he would keep his convictions to himself; after all, there was no need to make them public, and thereby rousing any of the females' predictable unruly tempers. Some convictions should not be forecasted, it was safer that way.

He later remembered that Minerva had this day assessed him coldly and with some distrust; he could almost swear that she had. And as matter of fact, she had been behaving oddly since he had entrusted her with Harry's disappearance.

And while on the subject, what was the matter with Severus?

He needed to plan his summer in order do some investigating. Perhaps, it would be a good idea to invite the young wizard to come along; he could use both his help and some male companionship.

In a way, he viewed Severus as his own child, or he thought that he did. He cared for him more than for others, and it wasn't attraction but more of a filial type of love. After all, there were no kin to shower with his affection.

Indeed, he had sensed a change all around him, but it was subtle, nearly imperceptible, and its origin was elusive…altogether escaping his grasp. It was like a moving shadow.

Could, perhaps, Lucius Malfoy be stirring up trouble? And come to think of it, even Gellert was not himself lately, but all couldn't be related, was this even feasible?

Impossible, nobody could have known that Grindenwald was alive. He also had no relatives who would still be looking for him, and his followers were long gone.

It was, however, the image of the small and large dogs biting him, coupled with the voices of particularly young children commanding them, which had him flummoxed.

One child, probably a girl, had called him by a strange name, a fellow whose name was 'Sanna Klooss,' she had said that he was bad. He wondered who that child could be?

Perhaps the child was Lucius' boy; could the young boy be a powerful wizard already? It couldn't be, it just wasn't reasonable, after all, he couldn't be but a few years old.

Besides he heard more than one child. Did Lucius have Harry Potter? But even so, Harry's core was blocked, and he thought one could have been a girl, the one calling him names. However, girls were not that magical, with very few exceptions.

Damn, he wished he could get back to whoever Floo's entrance he had reached, but the coordinates no longer work, it could be anywhere because he was certain that wasn't Lucius home.

That particular Floo entrance was not a real chimney, it was built in unusual metal with many wires around, and he had never seen its likes before.

The chimney's aperture seemed to get smaller the harder he had tried to come in, as it if was trying to spit him out, and then he was back at Hogwarts; someone had returned him to its point of origin. That in itself was extraordinary.

Nothing like that had ever happened to him. He had felt little children's hands stopping his entrance, right around his neck, pulling him upwards, and they had grabbed his hands; it had been the oddest of sensations.

The hands had been invisible, yet sticky of something, and he had smelled his hands afterwards, they smelled of berry jam and chocolate.

And there have been those small taps in his brain, from a powerful, yet unskilled Legilimens; he felt a person or persons trying to read him; worse even, whomever those tentacles belong to, they caught him unaware and had reached just inside of his mind.

He shivered at the thought they had seen him stepping in the entrance to Gellert's prison. That was where he felt them.

The hands belonged to more than one. He could swear he saw nasty pixies walking and flying inside his head. There were not nice pixies, but scary looking deformed creatures with giant fly swatters, who kept saying. "Hiller pixies mamash'd the mustard dat gotopa."

The voice was his young sister's when she was little. Maybe he was going mad; he shivered. He couldn't tell anyone.

He would wait for Poppy to go to sleep to get a few more drops of Lucius' blood, and maybe some of Narcissa's. Where one was, the other was sure to be found.

He should keep them at his office but it was too dangerous, blood magic was a crime; but he had to have more of Lucius' blood, from the second vial marked with someone else's name.

He wasn't an idiot, and he knew of Malfoy's secret gift; he had stumbled upon it when he had collected Abraxas' blood and analyzed a drop, as he always did, hoping to find a weakness he could later exploit.

Albus had no qualms about his methods; he was in the midst of a battle of the Light against the Dark, and peace time rules didn't apply.

The headmaster was ruminating about what needed to be done, about his next move.

Veelas are always around their mates. Idiots, if veelas is what they think they are; good they have no idea, thus keep them ignorant. I need to keep several open doors, and let's face it, I am not above using Narcissa, or even consider harming her. Not for personal reasons, only in order to control Lucius; after all, if I do it, it will be for the greater good.

He was pacing in circles, Come to think of it, I need to explore the mate choosing process. I can find a way to manipulate who is chosen, then, I will do so. Yes, oh yes, I have the perfect mate for Lucius' child. And at my age I have learned patience and sooner or later he will be walking the Hogwarts hall— around the same time than Ginevra Weasley.

He smiled at his possible plan and was certain that he would find the way. In any case, the Malfoy boy was very young, and there would be years before he would be old enough to choose a mate; he had plenty of time to learn how to manipulate the 'Veela' inside the young Malfoy to do his bidding.

Let them be Veela's, it was hilarious, but all the wizarding world was blind and dumb. He wasn't, he had many of the old books here at Hogwarts. In any case, it was best if they were kept on the dark.

Tomorrow, he would seek Mad-eye-Moody and have him snoop around the the Ministry of Communications offices.

Hopefully, Moody could find out if Malfoy had recently made applications for Floo connections and to where; then, he would pay a visit to Arthur, maybe he would also help to ask around, and he would ask him to spy on Moody, and vice-versa with Moody.

It paid to stay informed; it is a control check of sorts. Wasn't Alastor who coined the phrase about vigilance after all? Albus told himself.

With that out the way, he decided to take a nap, he had a hard day, and the day wasn't over yet; he still had the Hogwarts School to tend to.

As he was leaving the room, in front of him, he saw the ghostly young witch. She knelt by a sleeping wolf, crying. When she felt Albus looking at her, she turned her head, her face looked very sad, she pointed at him and shook her head.

"I am imagining this, go away. I am going mad," and ran out the room.

Moody's Life Changes

Alastor Moody had reached a decision; he was having tea with Poppy and would spend the evening with her. He should make her an honest witch; he had to face it, she was 53 and not getting any younger.

Too bad that he was no longer a full wizard, and he had to thank the Lestrange brothers for that privilege. He had found it easier to deal with just knowing that they were not at fault.

He had heard the young lady Elly, had been married to Rosier, Walburga had mentioned it, and he had overheard. He needed to make sure to discuss it with Lucius; they didn't need conflict to start over this. They were at war when it happened; they needed to put their differences in the past if they were to succeed.

Overall, this had been a great day; mostly because for the first time in years; he had not felt any phantom pains since the exact instance when the little curly hair beauty had touched him earlier, come to think of it, he was feeling quite well. Now, he wished he had children, and maybe, it wasn't too late. He shouldn't have let his Auror career control all the decisions impacting his personal life, but what was done was done. It was way too late for children.

No, it wasn't, he had children, a child to be exact. He was 28 and had joined the Aurors in Edinburgh; where a family close to the Pomfrey's, had adopted him, had raised him, but he had not been told of his parent's identity. Poppy knew that Moody was married to his job and had often told her, "An Auror shouldn't be a parent; we have no rights holding such dangerous jobs." Their son's name was Alastor, after him.

"You are looking well, Alastor, why did you stop coming? I have truly missed you." Poppy was a fine looking witch, willowy with large blue eyes and a lovely smile, why hadn't he married her?

"What do you want with a broken old wreck? How can you like me now that I am half a wizard? " He sat close to her; he wanted her warmth and her love. Seeing Harry had done something to him.

"You are two years older than I am, so what does make me?" Her eyes were sad, thinking that she had waited for him too long.

At present, she was happy with her life, but wished for the life they could have had, if it had not been for the war. She should have raised her son, but those were other times. A single witch raising a child wouldn't have done. Often, she wanted to tell Alastor about their son, he might have been proud, maybe one day.

Minerva and Poppy, what silly witches the two of us are Poppy thought; one had given her heart to the darkest of wizards, and Albus made her stay away, no, he tricked her, and the other lost it to the eternal warrior, not good; at least, the two of them were each others' family. The two of them had given up the hardest of things. She stared at Alastor, waiting for an answer.

"It makes you Poppy, my witch, I want to ask you something later." He wanted her to embrace him; a nice witch to give him solace, and then he would feed her a light-sleeping potion. As Albus said, it was all for the greater good. Not that he wanted to make Albus his role model, not whatsoever, he decided.

Poppy was still upset about the blood but wouldn't tell him what was going on. No matter, he was with her, and the blood business would soon be behind them. If Albus suspected one of them, what could he do? Nothing, there was nothing he could do; simply, because he wouldn't dare to say anything to anyone of them.

He didn't need to be troubled; Poppy and Minerva had taken care of the "problem" earlier. Popppy moved closer.

Earlier-

Minerva had heard about blood banks and her niece, a squib, worked in a Muggle hospital. She had stopped to see her before coming back, explained that she had a situation that required some human blood. Her niece knew that it was for a good cause, and she had procured a large variety of 'samples,' all in little glass tubes with sticky labels that had names and a series of little bars

Her niece worked in the basement at a placed called the morgue, where she was a pathologist and performed autopsies. Minerva was amazed at the Muggles, how they cut up their dead, to determine how they died; while using magic was much simpler, all it took was a scan, and you had all the answers.

The samples her niece gave her came from dead Muggles, and this fact alone had made their gift a real boon.

With the samples on hand, armed with some creative thinking, and using Dumbledore's weapons, they had even managed to collect more than a few drops of his blood from the earlier injury. They made several batches and to each they added a tiny drop of Dumbledore's blood. Both witches laughed like they hadn't in a long while.

Every time he would try to find Lucius, or any that Minerva suggested including either Poppy or herself, he would be going around in circles.

The thought of the headmaster chasing his own tail made them laugh. Working with the blood of dead Muggle people seemed a harmless joke. They had also saved some to build wards against him. Protection was a good use, fight fire with fire.

The couple had their 'tea,' and Alastor had his head on Poppy's lap, when Minerva's voice broke into their peace.

"Poppy, come quick, one of the firsties fell out from a ledge."

Moody came out with Poppy, and Minerva raised her eyebrow, what was Alastor doing there? She eyed him suspiciously, damn what if he had the same mind that she had earlier. If so, she needed to stop him.

"Moody, I need to talk to you about a problem we had today. Please wait for me."

Later that evening, Minerva came by, and she talked with Moody in hushed voices. Poppy was curious as to the reason behind their laughter, but she didn't say anything. She was much too happy to see Alastor.

Poppy was even happier later, "Poppy, I was thinking, I have a holiday coming my way. I have wanted to visit Canada and see the bears, how about coming with me? I have something that we need to talk about, and we would have a long time to talk." Alastor asked her.

Meanwhile, Albus strolled to Severus room and found the young wizard concentrated while writing a scroll, which he put away upon seeing Dumbledore and set under his hand.

"Writing to the young lady, I see," he teased Snape in good humor. He did care for the somber young man, and held him in deep regard, however, he wouldn't hesitate to use him for his own purposes; he never had remorse about anyone else, and why should he start to turn a new leaf?

Severus' cheeks turned bright red; he had indeed been doing just that, but not to a young lady. He had been writing Sirius, wanting to know his take on his mother's presence because it had been eating at him. As for Maddy, her scroll was at the top of pile, right by Dumbledore's hand. He stretched his hand and pulled the scroll next to the one he had put away, upside down.

Seeing Dumbledore, the betrayal felt earlier hit him full blast, and he wondered what else had the Headmaster been up, what he had been hiding; he would certainly wanted to know.

He was no longer sure of how Albus actions might have impacted events all around him. He could no longer trust him, not at all, and decided to be extra careful around him. He put up walls to Occlumence his brain and kept an eye on Albus, while the other wizard peered around the scrolls trying to see what he could read

At the Granger's residence- The Pixies' Promises

You need to listen carefully," Grant was talking to the children. "Disobeying can be very dangerous. Do you remember what happened the other time?"

They all nodded their heads, but neither one appeared too scared. The memories had been mostly erased, which perhaps had been a lousy idea considering their latest escapades, and with the old Wizard prowling, they all needed to be mindful.

"If you cannot obey, we will need to get a new nurse, or maybe two. And you will need to wear a special belt uncle Rodolphus is making for you."

He was making a warded belt, only in the face of real danger would let them freely use the doors.

"Daddy, I don't want to be a doggy, I promise to be a good girl." Hermione whined.

All the adults made disbelieving faces; the children were truly young, and, therefore, their promises not particularly trustworthy.

"No, you are not a doggy, you are right, those," he pointed at the harnesses," are for when we go out. You all need to promise not to disobey, and no more Doors, unless you have permission."

The parents were trying, but they knew it was going to be a long process, and they all needed to believe and hope for their safety.

For now, two elves would be with them at all times that should help; and they would be with Remus their tutor, and with other adults. However, what Hermione said next made the adults wish to be gone to a remote island, for years.

"Daddy, I forgot," she chewed her lip, a little afraid, "With the bad Santa, hmm, well, we did Pixies," she pointed at her head, "and I saw him by Opa. He came thru a door. So we tried s'mashing him 'whif' the swatter."

They all sat frozen imagining that Albus had seen them. Oh Lord!

a/n I hope you are all enjoying it.