My Way by romulus lupin

Rating: PG
Genres: Angst, Drama
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 6
Published: 02/08/2005
Last Updated: 02/08/2005
Status: Completed

In the last seconds of his life, Dumbledore looks back, and focuses on the things he regrets.
Implied Hr/H




1. untitled
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**My Way**

**Title:** My Way
**Author name:** romulus lupin
**Author email:** galigad@yahoo.com
**Category:** Drama/ Angst
**Sub Category:**
**Keywords:** Dumbledore Regrets
**Rating:** PG-13
**Spoilers:** SS/PS, CoS, PoA, GoF, OotP, HBP
**Summary:** In the last seconds of his life, Dumbledore looks back, and focuses on the things
he regrets. Implied Hr/H
**DISCLAIMER:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK
Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and
Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark
infringement is intended.

**Author notes:** Originally planned for the Acid Pops Musings Competition at
www.witherwings.org, until the story got away from me. :D

*“Severus…”*

I grimaced, twisting my face into a contortion of pain even as my mind went its own way… how
overly dramatic!, I thought to myself. But it had to be that way… it was *supposed* to be this
way—there was no other way to do this.

It had been too long in the making… too long in the planning…

I locked my eyes with those of Severus Snape, those dark and pain-filled eyes I had watched for
so many years, trying to convey a message through the link that the years had given us, telling him
to… *`D**O IT, SEVERUS!* *I'm dying, don't you know that? I'm dying from
that potion in th**e* *cave where Tom* *hid* *the Horcrux**… it's*
eating *me, Severus…'*

I made one final effort, pulling everything that was left of my energy and will into a last,
dying gasp:

*“Severus… please…”*

*Snape said nothing, but walked forwards and pushed Malfoy roughly out of the way. The three
Death Eaters fell back without a word. Even the werewolf seemed cowed.*

*Snape gazed for a moment at Dumbledore, and there was revulsion and hatred etched in the
harsh lines of his face.*

`DO IT, SNAPE!' I screamed at him in my mind… and tried once again to communicate my
thoughts to him: *`I'm dead, Severus… I spent the last of my reserves coming here because I
knew Draco would be here**, to keep him from fulfilling his commitments to Tom and damn his
soul for all eternity…* *DO NOT FORGET THE PLAN!*'

And time slowed down…

*Snape raised his wand and pointed it directly at Dumbledore.*

*“Avada**—**”*

I watched his hand… watched his wand point at me… saw—and heard—the first syllables of the
Unforgivable begin to rend the air around me, and I chanced a glance at the wall where I knew Harry
was stuck like a fly, unable to move, unable to scream, able only to watch the unfolding drama
before him…

And feel a tidal wave of revulsion wash through me.

There was nothing more I could do.

The plan was in place. After so many years, so many false starts—so many detours along the
way—everything was finally in place.

And I could finally rest.

I watch with total disinterest as Snape's mouth completes the incantation… gaze at the
beginnings of the sickly-green light begin to form at the end of his wand… knew that in seconds or
in an eternity, the ray of green will hit me… and I would be flying without wings, to finally meet
the destiny that had been written for me all those years ago.

I allow myself to slump… there was no need to stand tall and proud in the face of
adversity—these were to be my last moments of existence, so what was there to posture for? I had
done my job… fulfilled my obligations… and now, it was time to go.

As I watch the Unforgivable move towards me, a totally incongruous thought pops into my
mind…

I never had the chance to correct my chocolate frog card.

I blink… of all the things to think about… but what else was I supposed to do? The Unforgivable
that Severus cast would reach me in due time; there was nothing more to do except wait to be sent
into oblivion… I realized that I was standing in that netherworld I had heard about: that
in-between place between time and motion where events unfold in slow, slow motion but the mind
continues moving at its normal, nimble pace.

It was the place where one's life flashes by… allowing you one last glimpse of your
accomplishments and your failures, all your dreams and your plans… that place where all your
decisions—good or bad—come together to either taunt you or inspire you—

It is the place of regrets—and it is here where I find myself feeling sorry for not having
corrected my chocolate frog card.

The card flashes before my eyes and the words leap out: “… *greatest wizard of modern
times**…* *defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald**…* *twelve uses of
dragon's blood…* *enjoys chamber music*—” and I snort in derision. If I had had my way…
if I had had the *balls*—I would have removed the word `chamber' and declared to all and
sundry that I enjoyed *music* in all its forms and manifestations, including the vast array of
Muggle music: the bouncing energy and powerful rhythms of rock, the soothing liveliness and
freshness of the symphonies… the deep emotions expressed by the hundreds of love songs I have heard
over the years…

But it would have been for nothing… for my preferences in music were of no importance in the
total scheme of things. It was stuffing, as was everything else in that card—to pad out and hide
the single point that was all important: that I was a friend and partner of Nicolas Flamel.
*That* was all that was important… so that *Harry* would be the one with the moment of
revelation, that *Harry* would be the one to remember where he first saw the name…

I blink when I realize that the green flame of the Avada was only a third of the way to me, and
I find myself wishing that it would speed up so I could get on with my life—and a cold, cold fist
of dread squeezes my heart.

This would be the end, I thought.

The end of everything for me: Hogwarts, Harry Potter, the children I had known and loved… the
Order and the people who had rallied to its banner. And, though I had known that this was going to
happen—that this was all part of THE PLAN—it doesn't make things any easier.

Especially as far too much of THE PLAN went against everything I believed in…

Or *thought* I believed in.

The green beam was closer now, and the end is near…

I blink as a voice echoes in my ears: a powerful, emotional baritone, singing a song that I
first heard years ago…

*And now, the end is near*

*And so I face the final curtain*

*My friend, I'll say it clear*

*I state my case of which I'm certain*

*I've lived a life that's full.*

*I've traveled each and ev'ry highway;*

*And more, much more than this,*

*I did it my way.*

It was a song that I held close to my heart… it is the song that defined what I am, what I was…
what I had been.

What I had allowed myself to be.

*Regrets, I've had a few;*

*But then again, too few to mention.*

*I did what I had to do*

*And saw it through without exemption—*

Regrets—that was the word. I had held on for too long to my regrets, believing—as the song
said—that I did what I had to do, because of THE PLAN!

The green light is half-way to me now, and the images in my mind are flashing faster and
faster…

… dismissing Minerva's protest when I told her of my decision to leave Harry with the
Dursleys… ignoring the bitter look in her eyes years later as she showed me the addresses on the
enchanted letters announcing Harry's acceptance into Hogwarts: `*The Cupboard Under the
Stairs… The Smallest Bedroom… The Floor, Hut-on-the Rock…*'

… keeping my distance from Harry in the early years—acting the benign and all-knowing Headmaster
year after year when I should have been guiding him; dropping hints about loyalty but not showing
him the same faithfulness; allowing Miss Granger and himself to rescue Sirius when I should have
intervened; staying `neutral' during the Tri-Wizard Tournament and letting Miss Granger coach
him in the things he would need to survive…

… ignoring him all through his fifth year because of my fear of Tom getting to me through him;
allowing Severus to `teach' him Occulumency and Legilimency in spite of everything I knew about
their history—or rather, Snape's history with his parents and his godfather; letting Dolores
Umbridge have her way with him because *that* was what THE PLAN called for!

… keeping the contents of the prophesy from him, all because I was *supposed* to have given
him a chance at a normal life… or as normal as Voldemort, basilisks, Animagi and his enemies would
give him. Allowing him to lose his godfather and then letting him destroy my office and
possessions… crying my tears as I explained… all because of THE PLAN!

And now, leading him on a merry chase: dropping hints here and there, showing him memories
gathered through the years, spreading them out over the months rather than telling Harry all about
them in one go… tasking him to find out about the Horcruxes by himself, rather than forcing
Slughorn to reveal them… not even telling him why my hand was burned and blackened except to
*hint* that it had something to do with Gaunt's ring…

And all because of THE PLAN.

Someone shouts out in the distance (Is it James? Lily? *Sirius?*): “**Good job,
idiot!**” and I feel myself flush at the derision and contempt the words implied.

I had to accept the reality of those words.

I **had** been doing a good job… an **idiot's** `good job'… simply because I
allowed myself to follow THE PLAN without thought, without protest…

Like the cut-out, cardboard character I was supposed to be… the supposedly omnipotent,
all-powerful, all-knowing wizard who was the only one that Voldemort feared… whose `mistakes'
over the years were aimed at only one thing: to bring Harry face to face with his destiny.

Alone.

That was the PLAN in its entirety… at the end of it all, Harry was to be left all alone to face
Tom. No friends, no companions… no Dumbledore's Army behind him, no Order of the Phoenix
supporting him…

No Ron Weasley or Hermione Granger beside him.

I fight back the sudden welling of tears in my eyes as I remember Miss Granger: small and
bushy-haired, running up to the Sorting Hat all excited as she jammed it on her head, eager and all
too excited to be in Hogwarts…

Hermione Granger… Muggle, know-it-all, Harry's friend and most loyal companion. The most
brilliant witch to have attended Hogwarts except for Lily Evans… almost exactly like Lily, except
for the hair which Lily shared with the Weasleys, Ginny Weasley in particular…

Where was she now, I wondered? Probably down in the castle, fighting with the others, fighting
while remaining frantic about Harry… worrying about him, caring for him… *loving him*, after
all these years…

But she had turned into a virtual stranger this year—at least that was what the gossiping
portraits said. The one person who could be counted on to be beside Harry at all times… the one
person who could guide him and help him, whether looking up obscure spells in the library or facing
his temper and anger to ask him to reconsider his rash plans… that girl had been gone for the
better part of a year.

And I didn't know why.

Nor could I be bothered to ask… because I knew what the answer would be.

The PLAN called for that to happen.

The PLAN… The PLAN… The PLAN—in the end, it was all about the feckin' PLAN! And there lay my
biggest regret of all… that I had been nothing but a *sheep* following the directions of THE
PLAN!

I had followed its dictates and requirements all these years … followed like a docile lamb even
though I wanted to rebel against its restrictions… mouthing my words, shedding my tears, showing up
and disappearing because THE PLAN called for it…

Where was a Gryffindor's courage, I wondered, as the green beam of light came inexorably
closer? Hermione Granger had shown far more courage, far more loyalty, far more love than I had
ever done… not only because of what she had done with Harry, but because of her constant rebellion
against THE PLAN.

She had fought against it… gone off time and again to do her own thing, only to be forced back
into what THE PLAN called for, but even then, doing everything she can to fight against it, because
in the end, she would never let Harry fight alone, not if she could help it.

She was the only one who had ever shown Harry what love truly meant… hexing a teacher's
robes because Harry was in danger… tearing up a book because the information in it was vital to
Harry… revealing her Time-Turner so that she can help Harry rescue Sirius… bringing Harry some
toast because she knew Harry would be uncomfortable at breakfast… coaching Harry in spells so he
could survive the tournament… defying Harry's anger and harsh words time and again so she could
help him… putting her heart and life on the line time and time again, because of Harry.

How much of that was because of THE PLAN, I wonder… and how much of that was because she had to
do it for Harry? I keep myself from laughing out loud—I must remain stoic and still as the green
beam comes closer… she had been there for Harry when I was not, she had been there for him when
everyone else—including Ronald—was not… and now, what had it all been for?

After all the school rules she had broken to help Harry, after having been wounded so grievously
fighting beside Harry, after everything she had done for Harry—she had to hex another Gryffindor so
that Ronald could retain his slot as a Keeper? Show off her mastery of charms by sending a flock of
homicidal canaries in a fit of jealous rage? Bicker and wrangle with Harry because he was doing
better at Potions than she was, after all the years of pushing Harry to do his best?

And what about Harry? Where was the boy I had known in passing… the boy who had resolved to do
better at his studies because he couldn't bear the thought of disappointing Hermione… the boy
who heard Hermione's voice in his head urging caution… the boy who had fought off Dementors,
centaurs, Grawp and Death Eaters so that he could keep her safe? He who had depended so much on her
for so many years… only to have short, stilted conversations with her because she would not be
bothered to believe him, to trust him… to *listen* to him?

How the mighty had fallen… after five years of being Harry's rock, his support, his friend,
mentor and guide… she had become a mere shadow of herself—and all because of THE PLAN!

But who was I to judge? Hermione Granger may not have been as mighty as I was—but the cry of
`Good job, idiot!' resounds in my ears…

She's had it better than I ever did… she'd had five years of doing what I should have
done… five years of friendship, bravery and affection with Harry Potter… months and years when I
should have been beside them, guiding them, teaching them… showing them what it means to love and
be loved…

There was nothing for it, I thought—the green beam is now only inches from me. Too late for
regrets, too late for recriminations… we had all been forced to dance to the tune of THE PLAN, and
there was nothing we could do now. I would never see the blossoming of Hermione's potential,
and I fear that the bright and brilliant promise that she had would become overshadowed by THE
PLAN…

I close my eyes to the oncoming beam and braced myself for what will happen…

The green light finally strikes me and I feel myself flying into the air… I look up and see the
green skull of the Dark Mark floating in the sky—for a brief moment, I wonder why. The Killing
Curse is supposed to be harmless and quick, painless and instantaneous—I was supposed to simply
fall into a crumpled heap without a mark or other damage—

But of course, things can change because THE PLAN called for it to be that way, to give Harry a
last, horrifying sight to set the stage for his lonely struggle… for him to be the *hero* THE
PLAN called for him to be…

Darkness approaches, it will soon be over, and as if in final salute to my departure, the last
few words of the song echo in my ears:

*“I did it… My Way.**”*

In the last few seconds before the light blinks out, a final thought crosses my mind.

“I hope the readers can—”

The End

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