Chapter 24: Goodbye, Albus

Thanks for reading and reviewing.

To the guest reviewer that keeps saying my stories are being written via AI. My back and fingers say different. The pain I put myself in just to post a story makes it insulting to hear someone say that about my art. So just toddle along and find something constructive to do with your life besides tearing someone else's down.

I had a huge rant with many cuss words, but I erased it.

Anyway, now that that is off my chest, some of you are getting either no chapters on FFN, or double chapters. I have told them about it, but you have too as well. I can do nothing more about it. FFN is glitching and has been for some time. I hope they get it together soon as I do enjoy the stories I find there.

I double post on AO3 if you want to read it there.

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Nott had been an idiot for proclaiming himself a Death Eater in the middle of the Great Hall. It only took until dinner for him to be arrested, much to the delight of Harry and his friends. They hadn't turned him in, but someone had. Most likely Susan Bones, but it could have been anyone.

Shacklebolt and Tonks had come to arrest him, along with the new DADA teacher Savage. Many were glad to hear that pronouncement. They had been without a professor all this time and were happy to finally see one. They had been doing self-study and were at a standstill. They had been studying off the notes of the older students and doing okay, but there was something to be said about having a teacher.

"I'll get you for this, Potter!" Nott shouted as they dragged him from the Hall. "We will return!" he bellowed, struggling against his restraints. He was straining against his bonds and trying to see where Harry was.

"Potter had nothing to do with your arrest, Death Eater," Tonks stated, tugging his arm and leading him through the double doors. "Your kind will be in Azkaban for the foreseeable future. You will not be returning." She finished taking him out of the Great Hall.

"Liar," the teenager spat, but he could be heard as the doors closed.

Shacklebolt left with Tonks, but Savage took his place at the Teacher's Table. Dumbledore wasn't there, and no one knew why.

"Oh, I wish I had," Harry said, laughing his arse off. "I'd like to thank whoever did though." He was happy to see this happen. He was sitting at the Ravenclaw table with his girlfriend tonight and enjoying himself immensely.

That caused many to look at him with curious looks. 'Why had he said that?' They wondered. What could he gain by being the one to having turned Nott in.

"Harry, don't be goush," Padma said, thumping his chest. She was blushing at his tactlessness. She was much more demure than her boyfriend. She would rather not be in the limelight.

"I'm not," Harry said, rubbing his chest like it hurt. It didn't, she hadn't hit him nearly hard enough for it to. "He was yelling out my name."

"He's being arrested in front of his friends. Try to be tactful," she said primly, though there was a smile on her face. She could see his point of view.

"Nott has no friends. He has allies," Harry stated, looking at the Slytherin table, who were either glaring at the doors where Nott had been led through or glaring at him. He just waved at those staring at him. They glared harder, and some sneered at him. There were a few that cracked their knuckles or raised their wands.

There were those that were treating this as an insult of all things Slytherin. It was bad enough that most of the school thought that all of the House was a Death Eater in training, this just enforced that theory.

Draco was not doing either of those things, neither were his companions. They were simply eating their dinner as if nothing was going on. Those like Daphne Greengrass and her friends followed his example.

"Even still," Padma said, withering under the glares of the Slytherins. She was not used to such blatant facial assaults. She was still getting used to all the adulations of being the one to get rid of Umbridge. They were still praising her for that. They would stop her in the halls and shake her hand and thank her. Harry would just laugh at them and tell them to stop, but she would just stutter and blush.

"Don't mind them," he said, still waving at them. "They are just mad that they might be next." He said this loud enough to be heard by most of the Great Hall. The group of Slytherins just glared harder and jeered. There were threats in those glares.

"Harry," his girlfriend chastised, shying away from the stares.

"Sorry," he said, looking slightly remorseful. He forgot she was not used to his antics.

"At least we now have a DADA professor," she said, changing the subject. She pointedly looked away from the Slytherin table.

"Yeah, that's a great thing," he said, letting her. He looked at Savage and wondered how he was going to try and kill him. Not that Umbridge got much of a chance, but she did go for her wand.

"Harry, don't glare at the professor," Padma said, wondering what was going through his head.

"Don't mind me," Harry said, looking back at his meal of pork roast and au gratin potatoes. He picked up his fork and started to eat again, after warming his plate with some subtle magic. He did the same to Padma's, not that she noticed. She did know about his magic, and he had taught her a few things, but she didn't know the full extent of it. He was waiting until either Dumbledore died, or she was out of the school to tell her that. "I've just had bad luck with DADA teachers," he finished, though he stopped looking at Savage, who was wondering what he had done to piss the boy off.

"Alright," she said, going back to her meal, of roasted chicken and salad. "I don't think he'll to anything to you."

"I think it will be okay. I've rarely had two DADA teachers in one year, so I don't think this one will try to kill me," he said, nonchalantly, causing many around them to sputter and choke on their food. That's what they get for eavesdropping. Harry laughed again.

"I forget that every one of our DADA professors have tried to do that. Even Professor Lupin," she said, tapping her fork on her plate.

"To be fair, he was a werewolf at the time," Harry said, taking a bite of his roast. He remembered the time with a shiver.

"Well, he should have taken his potion," she said, knowing the full story. She was upset that one of her favorite teachers was so thoughtless in his pursuit of justice. He should have taken his potion. It would have only taken a few seconds to do so.

"You have a point," he acknowledged with a nod. It was one of the reasons he didn't like Remus overly much. That and the man didn't keep in touch like he had promised. And the many other reasons he had given Tonks when they had met.

"Well, let's not talk about that, tell me about Quidditch practice," Padma said, moving the topic along to more mundane things. She was tired of talking about Harry's near perils.

So, they talked about schooling stuff until the end of dinner, when Harry parted ways with her and went to his common room. Where he pretty much had the same conversation with Hermione and Neville. Hermione was upset that they arrested Nott in the middle of the Great Hall. She thought they should have done it more privately.

"Why?" Harry asked, not sure what her reasoning was. He thought it had been great.

"He's a minor," she stated, looking miffed. In her eyes that was just wrong. Minors, no matter what their crime, were to be shielded. That was the way of the world.

"I think they had the right of it," Neville disagreed. To him Nott was a Death Eater and that was supposed to be publicly known. "It'll let the others know that being a terrorist will get you arrested. That is something that should never be hidden."

"Still, doing it privately would have sent the same message," she debated. Though her determination was wavering.

"I disagree," Harry said, looking at her with some disappointment. "I think it sends a bigger message to do it publicly. Look how upset everyone got. Now there can't be any rumors that will be misconstrued." He was firm in his argument. He was still tickled pink that it had happened, and he had a huge smile on his face, that made his argument slightly less firm.

"I guess," she conceded. "I'll think more on it," she said, and fished out her new DADA book and started reading. She wanted to get ahead of her classmates, or at least the Housemates. She knew she would be on par with the Ravenclaws. They would be studying just as hard as she, if not harder.

Harry just chuckled as he too took out his DADA book and nodded for Neville to do the same. He didn't want his best mate to fall behind. Neville sighed and did the same. The three of them studied the rest of the night until it was time for bed.

There might have been some words exchanged between Harry and Ron, but Harry nipped it off at the bud and closed his curtains before it got started. He had no time or want to fight with Weasley.

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Madam Pomfrey was at her wits end. On her bed was the dying form of Albus Dumbledore. The curse had overtaken him. It had reached his chest and was soon to be upon his heart. As in a matter of seconds. She was doing all she could to keep him alive. The potion that Snape had concocted was there, but it was not soon enough. She had given it to him, but it was too late. The Withering Curse had done its job and killed its victim. Almost. It was only a matter of time.

Albus's breathing was labored and shallow. His heart was weak and thready. She was keeping it beating with magic alone. She needed to let his next of kin know that he was dying so that he could say his last words. He was unconscious right now, but she could revive him long enough to do that. That would give them time to clear the air between them. She really hoped they would, it had been too long. She sent a Patronus to Aberforth to come to the Hospital Wing and attend to his brother and waited.

Soon enough the younger Dumbledore came and looked upon his older brother and scowled. It was his own fault that he was dying. Had he left well enough alone… He didn't know why Albus had obtained the Withering Curse, but he knew his brother was smart enough to avoid that. There must have been a reason that he had neglected to see the curse. He hoped it was worth it. He doubted it though.

"Will you hear his last words?" Poppy asked as she led him to the dying man.

"Aye, I'll listen to him," Aberforth stated, sitting on the stool near Albus's head. He knew it was going to be something foolish, but he would listen. He was hoping to hear the words he had moved to Hogshead to hear. Maybe, on his death bed, Albus would finally confess.

Poppy revived Albus and the old man blinked his eyes open. His labored breath came out and he looked about through bleary eyes. "No," he proclaimed. "I don't want to die," he stated, his breathing coming faster, making his heartbeat faster as well. His eyes got wild, and he was thrashing about his bed.

Poppy shot him a Calming Charm, and he relaxed. She set up some magical monitors and stepped away to give the brothers some privacy.

"You are dying, you old fool," his brother said, leaning forward so Albus could see him. "Tell me what needs to be known," he urged, he stayed in his brother's line of vision.

"Harry Potter must kill the Dark Lord," Albus said with some urgency. To him this was the most important thing. He still felt that the Dark Lord was not dead, or that he would not remain that way.

"The Dark Lord is dead, Albus," Aberforth stated, getting angry with the old fool. "Tell me something else. Anything that has nothing to do with the damn war," he said, wanting to hear the confession he'd wanted to hear for many years.

"Aberforth, my dear brother, I have done you wrong," Albus said, tears running down his face and pooling on the pillow. He raised his hand slightly off the bed. "I have led you to believe that you were the one to kill Ariana, but it was not you," he said, letting his hand fall. He was too weak to hold it up any longer and his brother had not taken it like he had hoped. "I will not tell you who, but it was not you," he finished, and then he breathed his last breath and died.

"Damn you, Albus, even in death you keep your secrets," Aberforth stated, tears filling his eyes. Not in mourning, but in frustration.

"I'd better let Minerva know," Pomfrey said, seeing the monitors flatline. She hadn't let the woman know earlier so that Aberforth could have his last moments with his brother. She needn't have bothered; the brother would rather have been the last to know. But it was the way of the wizards.

"I'll be on my way then," Aberforth said, getting up as fast as his old bones would let him. He was sorely dissatisfied with what he had learned from his older brother. He wanted to know who had killed his sister, but alas he still had to guess. He still thought it was Albus, and not Grindelwald. He had already known it had not been himself.

Poppy sent off a Patronus to Minerva to let her know that the headmaster had died. She probably already knew since the wards would have transferred to her temporarily. They would stay with her until the board either confirmed her station or hired a new headmaster.

Aberforth left and Minerva soon came bustling in, already crying. She was dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief and looking around the room to see where the body of her friend and boss was. This was the last thing the school needed. She didn't even know the curse was this bad. "How did this happen?" she asked Poppy, coming up to her and gazing at the dead body of Dumbledore with sadness.

She might have been mad at the man, but he had been her dear friend for many years. They had been coworkers for longer than that. Sure, he infuriated her many times, and manipulated her more than once, but he was a dear friend. He had stood by her side when her husband had died and was there when her children had moved out of the country to flee the Dark Lord. She was devastated when they decided that they loved their new country better than Scotland. He was there when she needed him, and she would be there now.

"He didn't tell anyone, but the curse was creeping close to his chest for days," Poppy said, also dabbing her eyes. He had come to her last week, but she couldn't do anything. She and St. Mungo's were the only ones to know and were sworn to secrecy by patient confidentiality. She hadn't known that he had gone to the minister about Snape, though she should have given the man had brewed the potion.

She was waving her wand and filling out the parchmentwork. It needed to be done before she could tell the ministry that Dumbledore was dead. They would then tell the board and the public. It would be in the newspapers in the morning at the earliest. McGonagall would tell the other teachers.

"Blast that man and his secrets," McGonagall stated, wiping her eyes in anger. She was not prepared to take over the school. She was working towards six months, not today. That was what she was told, and of course, she was lied to. She was just glad that Severus was gone, and she didn't have to rehire him. He might be a great spy, but he was a shite teacher.

"I will get this to the ministry," Poppy said, finishing the parchmentwork. She grabbed it from the air and went to the floo. She called the proper department and handed it over, then saw to the body.

Minerva had left to take care of Albus's affairs and see to the running of the schools. Things needed to be straightened out, since the old man had let things slide for many weeks as he was trying to run a war that was all but over. Not to mention dying and trying to hide it.

She worked diligently through the night to do what she could to set things right. She finished half before she couldn't keep her eyes open. She retired to her rooms after sending word that a staff meeting needed to happen in the morning. She would inform the teachers then the school. Hopefully, before the newspaper was released.

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"Blast that man and his secrets," Bones said, reading the newspaper the next morning when she got to work. She knew the man was close to death, but she thought that Snape's potion would have stopped it. He must have waited until the very last minute. Now how was she supposed to get Snape out of Azkaban? She didn't want an innocent man in prison, and she was sure he was innocent. An arsehole, to be sure, but innocent.

Just then Fudge came running into her office. "Amelia, what are we going to do?" he demanded, brandishing the Daily Prophet.

She sighed, knowing the man was completely lost without all his advisors. Dolores was still in a coma and dying. Lucius was in prison. Albus dead. The man was now at a loose end and out of control. It was a good thing he was useless without anyone guiding him. "What can we do, Cornelius? The man is dead," she asked, looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

"We must have a proper funeral," he said, making plans for an elaborate affair.

"No," she said, standing firm. "He will have a normal funeral like all other headmasters." She was happy that there was no budget for anything too ornate. At least if the man wanted to pull it off, he would have to use his own money.

"He is a hero," Fudge said, pounding his fist on the desk, making parchment fly everywhere. "He must be remembered properly," he demanded.

"Then give him a hero's funeral, but nothing extravagant," she said, waving her wand and putting her desk to rights. She knew where all the parchment was supposed to be so put it all back together. She glared at the rotund man and pointedly looked at his fist, which was still on her desk.

Cornelius looked at his hand and blushed. He removed it and stood to leave. "He will be buried on the school grounds," Fudge was saying as he was leaving the office. He had plans to make, and money to find to do it. He was sure he could get donations from the alma maters.

Amelia sighed again. She knew nothing she said was going to sway the man from his path. He was going to do it to make him look good. She thought it made him look foolish and a spendthrift. That was not the image he needed right now. He was in enough trouble as it was.

"Tonks, get in here!" she yelled through her door. She had work to do and Dumbledore's death wasn't going to stop that.

Tonks came running in, tripped on nothing, righted herself, closed the door and sat in the chair. "Yeah, boss?" she asked, looking eager to please.

"What do you know about Black?" she asked, looking at the girl. He was her cousin, after all.

"He's staying at home for now," the pink-haired girl answered. "He thought being an ex-con was bad, being a hero was worse. He can't go anywhere without being mobbed." She chuckled at this. He was woeful at this new turn of events. He was free but had nowhere to go. He could go in disguise, but that negated the point.

"Can you ask him to come in and talk to me tomorrow?" She could send a Patronus, but she wanted to send a formal invitation. She just wanted to ask him and Potter about funding Tonks's undercover endeavor. If she could get them to spearhead the department in front of the Wizengamot, that would be half the problem solved.

"Sure, boss," Tonks said, getting up to leave.

"Thanks," Amelia said, thinking that would do nicely. She grabbed a quill and wrote a note to Harry Potter to do the same. With Sirius here, there shouldn't be a problem with him coming. It was Saturday, so that helped. That and Dumbledore was dead, that helped immensely. There would be no more butting of heads over the custody of the teen. He could come with Sirius's blessing.

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Not everyone was as blasé over the death of the headmaster. Molly Weasley was distraught, as was her family. Well, not the twins. Many of the common folk were depressed over the death of the man they looked up to. He had been the teacher and headmaster to most of them. Many mourned the man.

All over the wizarding world of the United Kingdom there was much crying and mourning. A great many butterbeers and firewhiskeys were raised in praise and salute. He was beloved and respected, this past year forgiven or forgotten completely.

Some, like Aberforth, were angry that Albus took his secrets to the grave, but they were few and far between. Still, there were those that were upset that they would never know those secrets. Then there were some, like Rita Skeeter, that were determined to find them out.