The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledorepdf PDF Free

Rita Skeeter: The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore
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From the Bestselling Author of A

rmando Dippet: Master or Moron?

The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore is a biography of Albus Dumbledore that was written by Rita
Skeeter. Though it ran nine-hundred pages in length, Skeeter completed the book only four weeks
after Dumbledore's death in June 1997. As was her common tendency, Rita swooped down in the
immediate wake of a death to ensure that public interest remained high, whilst fully exploiting the
legal situation that the dead cannot be libelled. The book was rated with five stars by the Daily
Prophet. Prior to its release, Betty Braithwaite had visited Rita's home for an interview about the
title, and Rita served her tea and a slice of pound cake. It is probably because of this "warmth and
softness" that Braithwaite's write-up was highly favourable and quite heavily biased in favour of
Skeeter.

“Another Spellbinding
Triumph from The
Queen of the Quill”
★ ★ ★ ★ ★
The Daily Prophet

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Table of Contents

Foreword 4
Chapter 1 6
Chapter 2 8
Chapter 3 11
Chapter 4 14
Chapter 5 16
Chapter 7 20
Chapter 8 22
Chapter 9 23
A Story 27

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Foreword
Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. One of the most respected and gifted

wizards to ever live. Numerous accolades have been handed out to him throughout
the course of history. He is, as is stated on the back of his very own Chocolate Frog
Card (which he claimed was his greatest accomplishment), the discoverer of the
twelve uses of dragon's blood, and it is claimed by multitudes that no wizard's duel
could have matched the one between him and Gellert Grindelwald, a Dark wizard from
Germany in 1945. He was, it seems, the epitome of all that is good in magic and
non-magic folks alike. Yet how much do we really know about him?
There has been, undoubtedly, a lot of secrecy regarding this book. I myself have had
to place severe Anti-Theft Charms on all of my notes and my interview transcripts, for
what would this book be without the evidence behind all the claims made?
Undoubtedly, there are claims that will displease some, while appealing to others.
After the interview earlier this year, I started screening all incoming mail for various
curses and poisons. It was not easy spending the better part of 2 weeks lying in bed
with tree trunks for arms, believe me. However, the quest for the truth, as always,
spurred me on. The quiet voices of distress that were silenced quickly when they
claimed that Albus Dumbledore was not as great as he seemed, I felt, deserved a
chance to make their views heard. And what voices they were! Had they been able to,
their very words would have rent the heavens apart, toppled our government and
altered the course of our world forever. These voices, I knew, were not to be treated
lightly, nor were they to be scoffed at, for there was a store of information that, when
pieced together, allowed for a picture to be painted, which would force many to
question their unwavering faith in Dumbledore.
As many of you have already seen in the interview, there are many questions that
need to be answered. Where did the Dumbledores come from? How had they got
there? What was Dumbledore's early life like? Was he popular in school? And yet,
these are trivial affairs compared to the really big fish still swimming out there. What
exactly is the relationship between Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter, the Boy Who
Lived? Why did Albus Dumbledore refuse the post of Minister of Magic, not once, but
thrice? Why was he content to merely remain a Headmaster? What compelled him at
last to confront Grindelwald? And what precisely did occur the night that he was struck
down, and died? Is he even dead?
These are, undoubtedly, questions that will cause some discomfort to many people.
Many have heralded him as a great man, a gifted wizard, a champion of
Muggle-Borns, even a saviour. Yet many of these followers knew little about him. They
knew of him, now that is no secret, but they did not know him. He was a man, even
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supposed close friends admit, who liked his secrets. For this reason, getting
information about his early life has not been easy. It has often been downright
frustrating. Yet, with a combination of tried and tested interview methods, and an
instinct for knowing when people are lying, I have been able, through sheer skill, been
able to obtain various reputable sources that have been able to fill me in on the former
Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Some, understandably,
have refused to be named for fear of public retaliation, while others are, sadly, no
longer in any position to be affected by the reactions of the people. These are the true
writers of this book, for without the information that they reluctantly (and in some cases
almost willingly) provided, there would be no book. A toast, then, to those who now lie
either unable to speak or unable to remember giving me information, to those brave
souls who withstood my attempts to gain insights into Albus Dumbledore's life, and
thus had to familiarise themselves with some of my more creative interviewing
methods.
It is on this note, that I invite you to plunge yourselves into a world of mystery and
intrigue, where nothing is what it seems (which is something, considering we are after
all, wizards and witches), and where many secrets will be uncovered, and many
questions answered. Despite this, do not wish that all the answers will be presented,
for there will be as many questions raised as there are questions whose plausible
answers surface.
Former Reporter,
The Daily Prophet

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Chapter 1

Dumbledore

Without a doubt the Albus Dumbledore all wizards have heard of is one of the

most powerful wizards in History. To understand how this man became so strong (and
strange as some may call him) we will have to duck into the secrets of his past.
Something I did and will spread out for you in this book.
For a start we will take a look at his teaching career at Hogwarts - back when Albus
Dumbledore was teaching Transfiguration, a position he achieved in 1938.
1938 is a most notable year, for this was the exact same year that Tom Marvolo
Riddle, better known as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, enrolled in Hogwarts. In fact,
Dumbledore turns out to be the one to enrol the young Dark Wizard into Hogwarts,
knowing the evil side of the boy very well as some (who wish to remain anonymous)
have told me in confidence. It was one of Dumbledore's biggest mistakes - instead of
giving him a fresh leaf he gave You-Know-Who the possibility to gain power.
His transfiguring abilities were astonishing, and he was without a doubt a brilliant
teacher, but another mistake of his would have consequences five years later. Had he
not had endless faith in members of his own previous house Gryffindor, he would have
seen through the attempt of Rubeus Hagrid, the half-giant, to open the Chamber of
Secrets and release the monster inside.A girl got killed, and even after this brutal
murder Dumbledore still had faith in Rubeus, trying to prevent him from being expelled
from the school. Though Dumbledore could not prevent expulsion, he managed to
keep the boy out of Azkaban. Taking the “Heir of Slytherin” in protection Dumbledore
offered the half-monster the position of gamekeeper even.
Despite his mistakes, Armando Dippet, Headmaster of Hogwarts at the time, wanted
to keep Dumbledore as a staff member.He would remain in this position until 1955,
and then Armando Dippet would promote him to Headmaster, not knowing many
mistakes would follow which would lead to some rather unpleasant happenings in the
years that came after.
For further information about Dumbledore's actions as Headmaster, see the chapters
"Pitiful Professors" and "The Tournament of Death" (respectively chapters 4 and 6).
42 years – that is the amount of time Albus Dumbledore spent at Hogwarts as
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Headmaster. Some say he is the most celebrated Headmaster that Hogwarts has ever
known, while others think the school would have been better off without him.
After plenty of investigation I am afraid I have to agree with the opinion of the last
mentioned group: Dumbledore did not only make mistakes. No, he wouldn't learn from
them either.
Under his supervision the Chamber of Secrets opened twice, and if it had not been
for Harry Potter the second time would have led to a death as well.
When the young half-giant Rubeus Hagrid had left the school fifty years earlier, the
attacks stopped and the Chamber was closed. When the Chamber opened fifty years
later, Albus Dumbledore trusted Fridwulfa’s son again. This time the Minister of Magic
did not listen to the Headmaster though, and Rubeus Hagrid was sent to Azkaban. Not
quickly enough though, for he must have had the time to pass the secrets on to a
student of the school to continue his work. And Albus Dumbledore ignored this
successfully.
Not much later Dumbledore was fired from his position as Headmaster, an
agreement which all twelve school governors signed for. He did not have the situation
under control anymore.In my eyes the school governors should have been consequent
by not allowing Dumbledore to return to Hogwarts after his failure. Nevertheless Albus
was asked to go back to the school, and would make even more extreme AND lethal
mistakes.
A couple of years later Dumbledore would stand up against the Ministry of Magic and
Undersecretary to the Minister, Dolores Umbridge, a truly delightful woman. Also he
would keep protecting The Boy Who Lived, and would turn a deaf ear to anything the
boy has done in his school career. Using Dark Magic on a fellow student and doing a
patronus charm in front of a Muggle are two of Potter's less important crimes. No one
knew what really happened the day that Cedric Diggory was killed, all that we know is
that Potter was there and again Albus Dumbledore could have full faith in someone of
his own House.
Also, Dumbledore had a weird choice for staff members he hired. Who else but
Dumbledore could hire a Giant, two death eaters (one having impersonated an
ex-Auror), and a werewolf? More about this in Chapter 4, "Pitiful Professors".

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Chapter 2

The Dumbledores

As any good reporter or storyteller will tell you, the way to tell a story, even one as

anticipated and quickly put together as this one, is to give the setting of the story, and
to establish the characters that the story revolves around. It is with this thought that the
story begins, over a hundred and fifty years ago, in the little village called
Mold-on-the-Wold.
Mold-on-the-Wold, for its almost painfully mundane sounding name, actually paid
host to one of the biggest wizarding colonies in the world in those days. The Prewetts,
the Bones, and even for a while the Selwyns, those Dark wizard forerunners, all
considered Mold-on-the-Wold to be the place that they would call home. This rich
history of magical prodigy coupled with its fair share of colourful characters would lead
one to believe that the birth of Albus Dumbledore was no accident, but rather
inevitable. Others would argue that the problems that Albus's father Percival had faced
had begun long before the fateful attacks on the Muggles (see chapter 2), and that this
had led him first to Mold-on-the-Wold, before ultimately landing him in Godric's Hollow.
"Percival had been on the run for quite a while, I think," claims Luxor Putrifadus,
distinguished potioneer and Former Supreme Mugwump on the Wizengamot. "He'd
been in a considerable bit of trouble even before the birth of Albus, and I fear that the
emergence of another possible weapon that his enemies could blackmail him with
simply made him strive for a world where few would bother his family, where he would
not be so mistrusted." When pressed on what the so-called trouble was, Luxor
remained frustratingly tight-lipped, save for a rather ominous sounding comment. "If it
hadn't been for the Unspeakables, I somehow doubt he would even have lived to see
his second son being born, let alone his daughter.
This deliberately vague yet oh-so-inviting comment alone had me on tenterhooks,

craving for more. Yet it was not given to me, but rather I was left to my imagination to
think up unspeakable acts regarding Unspeakables. What was it that Percival
Dumbledore had done, that had stirred up the emotions of those at the Department of
Mysteries? Did he, even then, know something about his wife's unborn child? Had he
tried to turn on his own son, perhaps prevent his coming into this world? It was no
secret that Percival had been granted access to levels of the Ministry of Magic that
most people would not have ever dreamed of even hearing of, let alone seeing. "He'd
curried great favour with the Minister of the Day, Faris Spavin," says Ereble Selwyn,
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whose memory has not failed yet, despite him being the ripe old age of 182. Spavin
had been the Dumbledore's regular house guest. Could this acquaintance have led to
a sort of 'free pass' at the ministry, whereupon Percival strove to undo his mistake with
a Time Turner and bring the disowning of a child to new heights? Or was his crime
even more heinous? Could Percival Dumbledore have been held responsible for the
great Time Turner Thievery of 1874?
And then, of course, there was Kendra Dumbledore. Quills today spare no love for
the mother of the man behind the fabled Order of the Phoenix, and yet, there have
been no shortage of criticisms either. Many an article has been published mentioning
her implacable love for her family, to the point that, even though capable, she passed
up on the offer of a job with the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office, and chose instead
to stay at home and attend to her family. Her fabled determination and resolve
garnered respect from all corners of the land, it is said, and even experienced Aurors
dared not cross her.
Yet how much of this was actually true? It is on record that she refused the job offer,
as the Ministry of Magic keeps records of both applicants as well as offers made, and
the chief of the History of the Ministry, Ciencia Estona, was more than willing to share
information on the unsuccessful attempts by the Ministry to add Kendra Dumbledore to
their payroll. "Well, naturally, Spavin was unhappy, when Kendra declined our offer. He
seemed especially upset though, a little more than I would have expected, which
surprised me, because I can usually always predict these things. My Seer blood,
naturally. Of course, the excessiveness of the unhappiness may have been due to the
fact that Kendra effectively told him to shove his offer up somewhere, but then what do
I know?"
This abrupt refusal, apparently immediate, would seem appropriate, considering the
trouble than Percival was in, since only Kendra was available to bring up her children.
Yet, it is known that Percival had not been earning much at the time, so why would
Kendra rebuff a valuable opportunity to get Galleons so out of hand? The suspicion
struck me there. Was there something she had not wanted the Minister to see? It
would make sense, as the Dumbledores seem to have possessed a particular
penchant for secrecy. "Oh, yes, the Dumbledores, they had always been rather walled
off from the rest of the world, it's no wonder that I didn't notice I was their next door
neighbour for almost 4 months!" quips Lorane Galothian, resident of
Mold-on-the-Wold.
What, then, was the real reason that Kendra Dumbledore chose to remain at home?
At that point in time she had only borne Percival one son, Albus. So she could not
have claimed that the reason that she had stayed was to raise her sons with the
utmost care, as many wizarding families were quite successful in balancing both work
and family life. This leads us to conclude that there was something else she strove to
hide from others. So what could this have been? Was it a Dark object that her husband
might have told her to keep, in line with his struggles with the Ministry? This is unlikely,
as Mrs. Galothian is quick to point out. "If Percival Dumbledore had a Dark object of
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any kind with him, trust me, the Ministry would have known." However, when asked to
elaborate on how the Ministry might know such a thing, she became stone deaf for a
period of time till the subject was changed. If anything, this only increased my
suspicion. What were these methods of identification? And why was it that, if these
methods did exist, that Arnold Weasley, another Ministry employee, had recently
raided the Malfoy Manor with no discoveries whatsoever? It would seem that the
identification should have been in place. This topic alone raises a lot more questions,
which could, on its own, be the setting for another tome of mine. However, I digress.
The Dumbledores, in general, had been around for a long time, even before Kendra
and Percival decided to show up in Mold-on-the-Wold. The earliest traceable
Dumbledore, according to the research put in by yours truly, is the slightly effeminate
Reloxis Dumbledore, who played a rather insignificant part in the implementation of the
International Statue of Secrecy in 1689. This relatively recent date, of course, seems
to tie in with the earlier claim about their affinity for high levels of privacy. It also serves
to emphasise the strange similarity between al the Dumbledore, apart from the name,
that all of them seemed to be related in some way, no matter how insignificant, to
important events.
The intelligence also reigned in their bloodline, with Albus Dumbledore, of course,
being the brightest Dumbledore by far, not to mention considered by many to be one of
the brightest wizards as well.
Reloxis Dumbledore had been part of the entourage that had presented itself in
public for the last time before public displays of magical tendencies to Muggles
became punishable by law. He was, it seems, trying to convince Muggles not to set fire
to his broomstick as they became aware that their memories would be Modified, and
hence struck out at what they saw to be an infringement of their rights. His broomstick,
along with his left buttock, was never the same again. To top it all off, he himself had
been forced to live with the Muggles for the very reason that Percival was ultimately
carried away to Azkaban, as he strove for revenge for the state of his left buttock. He
thus moved to Central London and lived above a greengrocer's. Despite this sudden
change of lifestyle, Reloxis' magical blood remained as strong as ever. Therefore, it
came as no surprise to him when his son, Ramases, was invited to Hogwarts School
of Witchcraft and Wizardry, much to the shock of his Muggle wife. Thus, the magical
strength of the Dumbledores endured and, it seems, concentrated itself in July or
August of 1881.

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Chapter 3

An Era Begins

It was into such a tumultuous setting that Albus Dumbledore was brought, on a

night in July or August. The real date of his birth is not well known, which in itself,
raises a few questions. A man as famous as he eventually became should have all his
life's details readily available for the entire wizarding population to view. Yet something
as simple as his precise date of birth, it seems, is already a mystery that no one but
himself will be able to answer. Or will he?
Dates of birth play a very important role in the wizarding society. Without them, we
would never know when to celebrate, what to celebrate, when to mourn, and when to
hide from unwanted relatives who come knocking expecting a fat sack of Galleons just
because they're your second cousins twice removed on your mother's side, and you
can afford it. So how is it that one of the greatest wizards to ever have lived (though
after this book is finished, that will be up for debate in many people's minds), does not
have one?
Some would claim that due to the large family size of the Dumbledores, it would be
relatively easy for any one member to have his date of birth forgotten, misplaced or
even removed for personal reasons. This reporter, however, tends to suspect the last
option. Once Albus had proved himself to be rather more adept at magic than his
father, his brother, or anyone else around him, it would have seemed obvious that his
parents chose immediately to make public this boy wonder's life details, to encourage
his fans. This, after all, is what happens to any celebrity, as evidenced by the throngs
of letters I myself receive on my birthday, be they well wishes or envelopes filled with
Stinksap and Bubotuber pus. Why, then, did they choose not to do so?
"I think he may just have been born to someone else, he might," says Lire Oldman,
whose son Gary has now made himself very well-known in the Muggle world. Lire
goes on to elaborate, saying, "How on earth could his own parents not know his
birthday? I mean, the very notion is preposterous! When it was explained that simply
because his date of birth was not public did not mean his parents did not know it, he
seemed to be momentarily struck dumb. After getting his wits about him, though, he
spared no words in providing his reasoning behind the claim. "Why else would they
refuse to make public the date of his entrance into this world? It's a conspiracy, I tell
you, a conspiracy! They're trying to cover up the fact that their son was not really
theirs, that he was nothing more than an adopted child who was too good to be true
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This claim that Albus was an adopted child poses a rather interesting question; if he
is indeed an illegitimate child, then who was his real father? Many viable candidates
spring to mind. One of the forerunners among believers of this theory is none other
than Spavin himself. The Minister of Magic would of course seem to be the favourite
for this particular parent, as he was known to have been of prodigious skill, and
possessing much the same affinity for riddles and mystery. Who can forget the
infamous revelation that Spavin was breeding and studying the Dementors and their
Kiss? It was even claimed that he was attempting to create a spell which would have
the same effect, but without the need for the presence of the creatures. The
Dementor's Kiss would, in effect, have been available to all wizards for use on anyone,
which would, to most people's horror, made the list of Unforgivable Curses grow.
Spavin seems to be the most likely candidate for a variety of other reasons as well.
He was, as mentioned before, close friends of the Dumbledores, which could have
been due to the adoption. A real father wanting to keep an eye on his biological son
could have been a valid reason for the close friendship. However, all in all, the theory
does not hold water, but a more tantalising and scandalous theory does arise.
The Dumbledores were very striking in their appearance. Their startlingly blue eyes,
their tall thin figures and their shocking white hair is visible throughout the family's
lineage, and Albus was no exception. Those eyes have been written about by many
writers, though none have failed to mention their peculiar ability to seemingly see right
into your soul. Many a quill has likened those eyes to taking a dose of Veritaserum and
spewing your secrets to those willing to listen. It is hardly evidence of a hidden,
forgotten parentage. On the contrary, it seems to be the very proof required by many
possible cynics to convert them to believers. Not this reporter, however. I still remained
wary about all those people who claimed that I was simply looking for whatever means
possible to further my career. Obvious as it was to some that Dumbledore's parents
were indeed Kendra and Percival, I instead felt that perhaps the reason behind a lack
of knowledge about Albus' beginnings was slightly more gossip-inducing.
Since the beginning of time and magic, many have attempted, unsuccessfully, to
create life. The Muggle story 'Frankenstein' is, after all, one Muggle's (Memory
modified) tale of the wizardry that created the Inferi. This tragic piece of magic is one
of the reasons behind the rise of the Dark Arts. Who wouldn't be willing to use magic
for evil, knowing that all they'd have to do is utter a single spell and they'd have the
power of the Undead available to them? Who would be foolish enough to attempt to
resist a Dark wizard, when their resistance was only effective so long as they could
inflict pain on the Dark wizard's supporters? Despite this, many more tried to perfect
the process, until the different Ministries of Magic outlawed the research in a
worldwide attempt to reduce the number of exceedingly clever wizards turning up dead
due to an experiment going wrong. This line of research produced both the greatest
enthusiasm as well as the most fatalities. Manipulation of energy in order to create and
sustain life is exceedingly dangerous work, and should not be attempted by anyone.
And yet it would seem that not only did one person attempt it and succeed, but they
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also perfected the art. How else would any couple (who one might claim, were hardly
perfect) be able to create someone so skilled, so compassionate and (ultimately, as
will be revealed further on) so dastardly?
And this begs another question. If Dumbledore was, indeed, the result of an
experiment, what, then, did his father get into trouble for? It could hardly have been to
prevent the birth of an unborn child, when the child was not even born, could it? It
must have been for something else, but further investigations shed no light on this
matter. I therefore was forced to put my assumptions about Percival's seemingly
heinous crimes on hold, although in no way did it prove his innocence in my mind. If
anything, it made me even more wary that someone had committed such a crime that
people refused to discuss it, and then had still been allowed to walk away scot free. It
seems obvious that there had been a manipulation of some sort, perhaps of the
Minister's mind, to grant him pardon, or even worse, of the entire Wizengamot, that
impartial court we all have come to depend on for justice.
While these paragraphs will hardly appeal to those who have defended Dumbledore
from the time of his education till the time he took his last breath, it would also serve to
answer those questions that the more daring of us have long been looking to answer.
How did the brilliance that seems so overwhelming in one member of the family, never
get exhibited in other parts of the family? Aberforth was hardly a genius with a wand,
and Kendra and Percival, though hardworking, never displayed the natural aptitude
and ability that Albus did. It is true that he did share other physical traits with the rest of
the family, but the legality of a course of action involving the creation of life would
require the perpetrator to try and cover up his or her tracks. If the culprit did indeed
create Albus, then it would be a logical course of action to try and make it seem as
though it was natural, rather than an abomination.

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Chapter 4

Pitiful Professors

If you would read about it in a book you would think the writer overdid it. Even in a

children's book it would be considered unrealistic by the cubs. But this makes the story
of Albus Dumbledore. The Man with Bad Taste.
Yes - Dumbledore did not have a good opinion when it came to his choice of
Professors. He managed to hire two Death Eaters, a werewolf, a half-giant, a centaur,
someone carrying You-Know-Who with him in the back of his head, a fake seer and a
self-centered nitwit who lost his memory in the six years before his death. Only an
obsolete dingbat could achieve that.
everus Snape - Severus Snape was given the position of Potions teacher in 1981.
S
Many people had their doubts with Dumbledore's decision, for Snape was charged for
being a Death Eater only a few months before. Dumbledore however showed his
ability to trust people again, which led to his death four weeks before, 1997. Severus
Snape killed Albus Dumbledore and by that had proven to be a Death Eater.
" Alastor Moody" - Again a Death Eater Albus Dumbledore ran into. Not Alastor
Moody, the famous - and some may say disturbed - Auror, but son of Bartemius
Crouch Senior, an ex-auror was hired for Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher in
1994. He helped He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named to regain his power and has held the
real Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody captive for 9 months. Bartemius Crouch Junior was
punished with the Dementor's Kiss in 1995.
emus Lupin - Remus Lupin is known to be a werewolf. In 1971 he was let into
R
Hogwarts by Albus Dumbledore as a student, which was remarkable because the child
was a threat to the other pupils. In 1993 he was hired as Defense Against the Dark
Arts Teacher, again by Albus Dumbledore. In June 1994 he lost control of himself and
attacked a few peoples, under which Harry Potter. Then Remus Lupin gave up his job.
ubeus Hagrid - I had the pleasure to interview him myself in December 1994. He
R
talked to me about his experiences with Magical Creatures, and about the great bond
he had with The Boy Who Lived. Soon I discovered he was the son of Fridwulfa, a
brutal giantess who had killed several people in the past. As prescribed in the previous
chapters Rubeus Hagrid always had Albus Dumbledore's trust. In 1993 Dumbledore
hired him as Care of Magical Creatures teacher as a replacement for Professor
Silvanus Kettleburn. He proved to be incapable of the job right away. During his first
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lesson a student was attacked by a rampaging hippogriff and he subscribed the

Monster Book of Monsters as textbook.
"Firenze" - A banished centaur who used to live in the Forbidden Forest. Hired in the
Spring of 1996 as Divination teacher. It is more commonly known that centaurs place
themselves above humans, therefore a strange choice to let a centaur teach at a
school like Hogwarts.
uirinus Quirrell - Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher hired in 1991. Sources
Q
have told me that he carried He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named in the back of his head.
Under his command Quirrell attempted to steal the Philosopher's Stone. He died in
June 1992.
ybill Trelawney - Known for claiming to be a seer. Also known for not being able to
S
see a thing in an orb or a teacup. She was hired in 1979 by Albus Dumbledore, fired
by Dolores Umbridge in 1996 and went back to teach again that same year, taking
turns to teach with Firenze (see above).
ilderoy Lockhart - Claimed to have defeated a Zombie, a Banshee, a Yeti, a

G
Vampire, a Werewolf, a Troll, Ghouls and a couple of Hags. Some say he only
defeated the Peacock so he could use it's feather to write with. He was appointed as
Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher in 1992 and lost his memory in 1993. A short
history which he did not manage to remember.
Some may call it unlucky. I would rather call it foolish. From a great wizard like
Dumbledore you should expect that he knows how to lead a school. He seemed to
make a lot of exceptions out of pity for people (for more information, see the next two
chapters: "The Tournament of Death" and "Plotting with Potter", respectively Chapters
6 and X).
I hope this shows you that Dumbledore's choices went by heart instead of by mind.
Actions that should not be tolerated when fulfilled by a Headmaster.

15

Chapter 5

Grindelwald

Gellert Grindelwald was born around 1883, but his place of birth is a mystery. As a

young wizard he attended Durmstrang - a European wizarding school with a reputation

for Dark magic.
The school expelled Grindelwald for twisted experiments and near-fatal attacks on
his fellow students. He was only 16.
Even as a student Grindelwald was obsessed with power, in particular the Deathly
Hallows – the three most powerful objects in the wizarding world. The symbol of the
Hallows is a triangular mark that depicts the Elder Wand, Resurrection Stone and the
Cloak of Invisibility, later owned by Harry Potter.
It is said that to possess all three would make one the Master of Death. Grindelwald
carved this symbol into a wall at Durmstrang, and it became something of a calling
card.
Undeterred by his Durmstrang expulsion, the young Grindelwald headed to Godric's

Hollow in England, where he stayed in the home of his great aunt, History of Magic
author Bathilda Bagshot. The village was once the home of Ignotus Peverell, one of
the three brothers who first owned the Deathly Hallows. It was also home to the
Dumbledore family.
Albus Dumbledore graduated from Hogwarts that summer, full of ambition but raw
from many family tragedies. The death of his mother left Albus as the head of the
family, but he felt trapped.
Dumbledore saw in Grindelwald an equal and the two became inseparable, sharing
an obsession with the Deathly Hallows. When Grindelwald told Albus about his plans
for wizard dominance over Muggles – a plan he claimed was 'for the greater good' –
Albus began to get a little too fascinated by Grindelwald's way of thinking.
The friendship quickly caused tension within Albus's family. With both parents gone,
Albus was responsible for his troubled sister, Ariana, and his brother, Aberforth.
Albus's intense friendship with Grindelwald and fascination with the Deathly Hallows
drove Aberforth to act.
16
A dramatic three-way duel between Aberforth, Grindelwald and Albus ended in

tragedy when Ariana was killed in the crossfire. Albus and Grindelwald's friendship
was over. Grindelwald fled, and Aberforth broke Albus's nose at their sister's
graveside.
On his travels across Europe, Grindelwald gathered followers and tracked down the
Elder Wand. Grindelwald stole it from wandmaker Gregorovitch, and continued to
follow his dreams of seizing power 'for the greater good'. Interestingly, he avoided
Britain, perhaps out of fear of Dumbledore.

17

Chapter 6

The Tournament of Death

In 1994, the Triwizard Tournament was once again held after a hiatus of

approximately 200 years. During those years, the TWT was thought to be too
dangerous. In 1792, all the Heads of the participating schools were injured because
after a basilisk decided to cause some trouble. As such, Europe's three largest
schools did not dare to organise another tournament until the Fall of 1994. On October
31st, the latest edition of the Triwizard Tournament was officially opened, with on very
strict rule: all participants had to be 17 and up.
Still, Albus Dumbledore managed to sneak in Harry Potter, who at the time, was only
14. If you ask me, the odds of them having split the Prize Money is very high, however
the goblins of Gringotts assure me that the thousand Galleons has never have been
stored within their walls. The money must have gone somewhere! You will read more
about this in the next chapter, Plotting with Potter.
But enough suspicions - time to go on with some facts.
During the Tournament, the champions would have to face their greatest fears and
have to keep a clear mind in the most dangerous situations. Hence the age limit!
However, Albus Dumbledore allowed Harry Potter to join the tournament, and most
likely the teachers helped him in various ways. How else would a student of Harry
Potter's limited intellect, have known the uses of gillyweed? And where else than in the
Potions' storeroom could Harry Potter have found some? Dumbledore's desire to win
was obviously stronger than what most people suspected.
High ratings in the tournament proved it. Albus Dumbledore wanted Potter to win,
and not Diggory. It was not about school victory and pride for this man, no this was
about something personal. Again I am referring to the next chapter which will explain
everything about the special bond between the "Young Mental" and the "Old Fool".
To make matters worse, evidence shows that Dumbledore kept protecting Harry
Potter after the Tournament was done. All signs suggest that Potter was responsible
for the death of Cedric Diggory. Whether it was an accident or not, no one knows. But
we DO know that Potter was the only one present at the time Cedric Diggory died.
During classes, Harry Potter often had mental problems. Unidentifiable headaches
and losses of consciousness are only two of the less extreme examples. Why did
18
Dumbledore put all his trust in this boy, which he knew not to be clear in the head?
The Triwizard Tournament was a mistake. It turned out to be lethal to one student
and ruined another. For many, it proves to be Dumbledore's worst failure. Like the
great master used to say himself, "The stronger the wizard, the bigger their mistakes".

19

Chapter 7

Plotting with Potter

The Boy Who Lived". "The Chosen One". For about a week he was even known as
"Undesirable Number One". Three names for Harry Potter, a boy who spent a lot of
time with Albus Dumbledore at Hogwarts. What did they do during those hours spent
in the Headmaster's Office? The following is a brief overview of the years the Potter
boy spent under Dumbledore's tutelage.
Autumn 1991: Harry Potter started attending Hogwarts. Immediately he became

Dumbledore's favourite student. During his very first flying lesson, Potter used a broom
even though he had been warned that he would be expelled if he did so. Instead of
expulsion, he got the position of Seeker on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team.
Spring 1992: Draco Malfoy, a delightful student, explained to me how Potter was
awarded 60 points so that Gryffindor would win the House Cup.
Autumn 1992: Harry Potter arrived at Hogwarts via a flying car, which is clearly
against the law, something Mr. Potter was fully aware of. Nevertheless, Albus
Dumbledore allowed him and his friend Ron Weasley to remain at Hogwarts, while any
other student would have been expelled without further thought.
Spring 1993: All evidence pointed to Potter as being the heir of Slytherin following the
suspicious events at Hogwarts. Unsurprisingly, there was no official investigation.
Dumbledore trusted Potter completely.
Spring 1994: Harry Potter lies to the Minister of Magic about Sirius Black being
innocent. Only Albus Dumbledore believes his story and tried to convince Cornelius
Fudge.
Once again, Potter managed to break some rules which were there for his safety,
and again no expulsion.
Autumn 1994: Harry Potter, 14 years old, is chosen as the fourth Champion in the
TriWizard Tournament. Only a strong charm could have made the goblet believe that
there were four participating schools. Dumbledore was powerful enough to do so. Was
he the one to sneak Potter into the Tournament? The money Harry won was never
stored in Gringotts, as the goblins told me. It is rumoured that Harry Potter and Albus
20
Dumbledore split the prize money in exchange for allowing Harry Potter to participate
in the Tournament.
Spring 1995: Cedric Diggory was killed. Harry Potter swears it was the work of
He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, but there was absolutely no way that You-Know-Who
could have gotten into that labyrinth. Harry Potter was there though, and even returned
from it with Cedric Diggory's dead body in his arms. Albus Dumbledore believed
Potter's story AGAIN though.
Autumn 1995: Albus Dumbledore stands up as a witness for the defence at Harry
Potter's hearing. Harry Potter was charged for the use of a Patronus Charm in the
presence of a Muggle, fully aware that he was not allowed to use magic outside
Hogwarts. This was the third time the boy had infringed the Decree for the Restriction
of Underage Wizardry. Three years earlier, he used a hover charm in a Muggle House,
and the previous summer he blew up his Muggle aunt. Because of Dumbledore's
influence, Harry Potter was cleared of all charges.
Spring 1996: Creation of the secret society, Dumbledore's Army. Dumbledore was
planning to make an army of students to stand up against the Ministry. While Potter is
present in the Headmaster's Office, Ministry officials come to take Albus Dumbledore
to Azkaban, yet the elderly Wizard escapes. Suspiciously, Dumbledore is allowed to
return to Hogwarts, after his second disappearance from his position as Headmaster.
Autumn 1996: According to sources, Dumbledore starts spending more time with the
boy than usual. Most likely he taught Harry things he would never learn at Hogwarts. It
is to be noted that this coincides with the year prior to Dumbledore's death. Was he
passing on secrets to the boy?
Spring 1997: Albus Dumbledore is killed on top of the Astronomy tower. Surprise
surprise, Potter was there!
Now you may think whatever you want about these facts, but bear in mind that facts
rarely lie. The simplest conclusion is often the best one - Ockham's razor. The most
probable conclusions are that either Dumbledore and Potter were plotting something,
but Potter got fed up with it and killed his Master, or that Potter was not clear in the
head and Dumbledore went a bit daft (see my next chapter, "Dumbledore Dafty?").
Whatever the truth lies, something is not right in the Dumbledore-Potter relationship
and there is no denying THAT.

21

Chapter 8

Dumbledore Dafty?

As I have shown you in the previous seven chapters, Albus Dumbledore did not

seem to be quite a man who had everything under control. Especially when the wizard
became older, he made more mistakes which also were of bigger impact. He did things
without thinking, which is very dangerous in his position. Some people say the world is
better off without him.
There are three groups of people, which I hope to be brought back to only two after
this book has been published: the people who think Albus Dumbledore became a
foolish old man as his life went on - these people tend to call him "Dafty Dumbledore",
the group who thinks Dumbledore is a dark wizard in vain, and the people who thinks
Albus Dumbledore was a perfect man who could allow himself a mistake every now
and then (which is as you will have understood the group I want to see sense).
I myself think it was a combination of both - when Dumbledore was young he went
wrong, and these bad habits developed as the sorcerer became older. Many examples
I have already given in the previous chapters - the mistakes mentioned were made
when Dumbledore was at Hogwarts as a teacher and later as a Headmaster - he was
an old man already. The older he got, the more serious and foolish his mistakes
became - so I think we can state that Dumbledore became dafty over the years. It is
not something we can blame him for, I am afraid - it is a habit of every old man (again
refer to my other book, "Armando Dippet: Master or Moron?").

22

Chapter 9

An Early Life

Having been 'born', though maybe not in the traditional sense of the word, Albus

then had to face the challenges of a world in which, at that time, new discoveries
seemed to be alerting the press almost every other day. This sudden spark of insight in
British wizards was not lost on the rest of the world.
A chat with the Official records keeper for the Department of International Magical
Cooperation, Remulis Cordelius, revealed that it was during this time, that the English
magical community experienced one of the greatest periods of expansion, as wizards
travelled here in their search for inspiration, as well as fame and fortune. The only
other time where there was such a sudden influx of foreigners into the country was
when Grindelwald was expanding his reign of terror.
Not to be outdone, Kendra and Percival took it upon themselves to ensure that the
new generation of Dumbledores would not be left wanting in this world where
knowledge was quickly becoming more powerful than mastery of spells. At the tender
age of 2, Albus began his education, and what an education it was. He had already
shown his magical abilities very early on, claims Larry Hughes, one of the only people
alive today who can claim that they knew the previous generation of Dumbledores. "I
remember clearly the day we first met, Percival and I. It was a fine day for Quidditch, I
remember, as I used to be quite the Keeper myself. Asked to try out for the England
squad, wouldn't you know?" After which he elapsed into a long and somewhat
tiresome monologue regarding his Quidditch expertise and skills. When asked to
elaborate on the Dumbledores, however, he was quick to get to the point.
"Ah yes, Percival and I met one day as I was wearing my Appleby Arrows robes,
considering my future. Upon seeing the robes, Percival approached me to ask if I
played for them. I did not, of course, and I stated that clearly. Thereafter, we became
friends, as we would always discuss the different Quidditch teams and their future
aspects." It would seem that the popularity of Quidditch had been grossly
underestimated even by the most ardent of fans. How else could it be that a family so
renowned for secrecy and deceit could have allowed such a relationship to have been
built on the foundation of the Chudley Cannons, Appleby Arrows and Wimbourne
Wasps?
Back to the topic at hand, however, Hughes was all too eager to share his knowledge
of young Albus's life. "He was always busy with one tutor or the other; it wasn't
23
surprising for him to be indoor all throughout the day, having lessons." Despite this
obvious penchant for learning instilled in him by his parents, he did not seem too
unsuited for magical life either. "I remember noticing, very early on, the strength of his
magical core. The raw power that resided in that child astounded me, especially
considering his relative immaturity. After all, when it first came to my attention the
extent of the potential he possessed, he could not have been more than 6 years of
age," claims Hughes.
This power, while painfully obvious to some who know him now, did at that time
cause a lot of excitement. The Dumbledores did not possess much raw power as
individuals, although they did harbour an affinity for attention. Albus was both a
contradiction and an affirmation of the rule. He did seem to bask in the attention he
received later on in life, never hiding the fact that he had been offered the post of
Minister of Magic numerous times (more on that later). However, he also did possess
an extraordinary amount of power in his own magical core, which may have
contributed to his being labelled the only person that You-Know-Who ever feared.
Putting that extraordinary power to use, then, must have been on the forefront of his
parents' minds. And it was with this mindset around which his education was
constructed, the achievement of maximum gain from what seemed sure to be a
glorious life. This, sadly, is where the Chimaera that was greed reared its ugly head.
It has already been pointed out that the bulk of the Dumbledores had been simply
ordinary in terms of magical ability. Albus, on the other hand, seemed to be practically
dripping with raw magical ability. As mentioned in the previous chapter, Albus was
already not very likely to have much brain function to begin with, if the tale of
Frankenstein is to be believed. Yet here he was, apparently not only hale and hearty,
but with a command of magic to rival most anyone's. How was this possible?
The answer, it would seem, lies in further cover-ups. Larry Hughes, while being most
eloquent about the later parts of Albus's childhood, seems to become conveniently
hazy-minded when asked about the infancy of the former Headmaster. "There's not
much I know about that time, if I'm being honest. I don't really recall seeing him around
much during that time. Barely saw him at all, in fact. I vaguely recall seeing the former
Wizengamot members visiting his house frequently during the time that young Albus
should have been baby Albus. Although I'm not quite sure I saw them leave. They
must have though, else that would mean they're still there. Ha-ha, preposterous," said
Hughes, becoming progressively more slack-jawed and sporting a (more than usual)
unfocused look.
Even the most dull-witted readers would be more than happy to hurl accusations of
illegal Transfiguration and Memory Modification, perhaps even murder, if they were to
hear such a testament regarding anyone else. However, I refused to accept such
simple and obvious explanations with anything that involved the Dumbledores. I
decided to do a bit more digging, having already had a germ of an idea planted in my
mind.
24
"Transferral of magical core? Well, I suppose in theory it is possible. I mean after all
in essence it is simply energy, our core, and transferral would simply be a movement
of that energy..." mumbled Aloysius Mnemosyne, after which he descended into a
ramblings of concentrations of magical cores, something called Arrhenius' equation,
and various other ridiculous sounding words which did not concern me. He had
answered my primary query, and thus was of no further use to me.
Many of you would have already guessed where I am headed. The seeming inability
of the members of the Wizengamot to reappear once they had been into the
Dumbledore's home, coupled with the extreme strength in baby Albus' core, led me to
wonder about the possibility of another combination, one so heinous it had not even
been thought of before, let alone documented. It may be that I am completely wrong in
this matter, although I do not believe I am.
Having successfully created life, and gotten away with it, the next step was to ensure
that their 'son' would be able to get them the life they always craved but could never
have. To do so, they had to ensure that Albus would be able to fend for himself
magically speaking. Perhaps, after all the trouble that Percival had gone through, he
found himself frustrated at the lack of strength in the infant's magical core. His close
ties to the Minister would have meant that he could easily have access to the strongest
witches and wizards of the time, those serving on the Wizengamot. What was to stop
him, then, from simply harnessing the raw power that was available to him at the time,
and using it to boost his own creation's power? Other than the method, which none
had thought of before, nothing.
Some may claim that this would have required an intellect far beyond that which
Percival himself possessed, but I would beg to differ. The speed with which Aloysius
was able to answer me about the possibility of such a process struck me as meaning
that the process itself could be easily derived as well, if only one put his mind to it. And
Percival certainly was determined, if nothing else.
Is this, then, what caused the so-called concentration of power into Albus? Not, as
many would have thought, a simple alignment of the stars and a once-in-a-generation
event, but rather a devious plot from a desperate father to give his son good standing
in the world? Could Percival, already driven slightly mad by his various dabblings in
hitherto unexplored areas of magic, have gone a step past murder, to the transferral of
power in order to augment his own creation's power?
It is not a thought many would consider feasible, but consider this: The Wizengamot
were seen entering the house during the time when Albus should have been a baby,
yet his presence was almost undetected during this period. It would be almost
impossible to hide the presence of a youngling from others (though as we will discover
later, Kendra seemed to be gifted at this as well). These same members of the
Wizengamot were not seen coming out. And yet, when Albus' magical core was
detected, he bucked the trend his family had exhibited and seemed to be positively
25
bursting with power. Add this to the fact that not many people even remember who the
members of the Wizengamot were at that time, and there seems to be a humongous
cover-up in place.
Having finally secured his family's future, Percival was then free to showcase his son
to the world, and setting the stage for the development of his son's potential. It might
have been around this time that Larry Hughes noticed Albus, thus closing the loop on
the scandal, as nobody would consider that a baby's magical core had been
augmented. Naturally, the stupid masses would be fooled easily into thinking the
strength of Albus' core was nothing but the foreshadowing of something great rather
than the result of something sinister.

26

A Story

by Rita Skeeter and Bathilda Bagshot

September 3rd, 1891
Mould-on-the-Wold
England

“Albus! Where are you?" a sharp woman's voice demanded.

Albus sighed and closed his book. He stacked the book with the others on his carefully
organized desk and stood, smoothing down his horribly uncomfortable robes. Rather reluctantly,
he headed downstairs. "Yes, mother?"
"Have you seen your sister?" she asked. "We are to leave for dinner at the Walchesters' in just
a few minutes." Albus's mother strode dramatically to the window. "Oh, I hope she's not out
playing in the garden again. That dress of hers has had so many cleaning charms upon it that I
am surprised it has any color at all! Go find her, won't you, Albus?"
"Yes, mother," Albus said. He almost went to pass the job off to Aberforth, but it would be easy
enough to find his sister. Albus knew where Ariana would be. There was a little spot down over
the hill in their little village of Mould-on-the-Would that was her absolute favorite. She would
spend hours there at a time, sometimes playing with Aberforth, sometimes alone. Ariana never
seemed bothered to be alone.
Albus headed for the door, passing his father who had just come in.
"Kendra!" his dad called. "Where's Aberforth? That boy is never ready on time, I swear..." he
muttered under his breath. He looked upon Albus. "And where are you going?"
"To fetch Ariana," Albus replied.
"Where is she?"
"Out playing, probably," he said. "We are going to be leaving soon and she needs to get
cleaned up," Albus added pointedly.
His father patted him on the shoulder absentmindedly. "Yes, well, she has a few minutes, let her
play. Have you seen your brother?"
Albus shook his head. With a huff, his father took off in search of him. Albus winced inwardly,
feeling a twinge of sympathy for Aberforth. He always seemed to bear the brunt of Percival's
anger, while Ariana and Albus got off easy. Albus tried to tell his brother that if he straightened up
27
and acted more respectably, it wouldn't be that way. That is to say, if he acted more like Albus,
he wouldn't be yelled at quite so often. That is to say, he wouldn't be yelled at because he
wouldn't be noticed. But no, Aberforth couldn't seem to act properly for the life of him. His shirt
was always untucked and he would make Ariana laugh at the most inopportune times. No
wonder their father was always scolding him.
As for Ariana, she was Percival's crown jewel. The girl could do no wrong in his eyes, no matter
how dirty she got her dress, no matter what precious heirloom she accidentally destroyed whilst
learning how to control her inherent magic. Even now she was right about to get away with being
late.
Albus trotted down the hill, pulling up the hem of his robes to prevent them from getting grassy.
Even at age ten, he cared enough about his clothes to take good care of them. The same
couldn't be said for his younger siblings.
"Ariana!" he called from halfway down. "We are leaving in a few minutes. Come get ready."
"But I am growing a garden!" she said cheerfully. "Look, I just started."
Three daisies poked out of the green grass.
"You can finish when we come back. Come on, Ariana," Albus said commandingly.
"Just a few more, Al!" she said, bubbling with excitement. "Please?" Ariana whined.
"Pleeeasseeee," she whined, louder.
Albus sighed. "Fine. Two minutes. We will be waiting at the house."
"Okay!" Ariana replied.
With a disapproving shake of the head, Albus trudged back up the hill. Why couldn't his siblings
be more like he? Albus tried so hard to shape them into what he wanted them to be, but they just
wouldn't listen. Alas, perhaps in a year or two.
Albus closed the door quietly, slipping into the house without a sound.
"Where's Ariana?" Kendra demanded.
"She will be along in a moment," Albus replied. "You know how hard it is to get her to stop
playing."
Albus's mother wrung her hands. "Yes, I really wish she would just play inside. It makes it so
much easier to keep an eye on her."
Albus nodded quietly. It was not his place to disagree with his mother, even though he thought
28
she was better off playing outside where he wasn't forced to make sure she didn't blow up the
house.
"Come, Albus, your brother and father are waiting out front. Hopefully Ariana will come along
quickly so we can get her cleaned up."
Albus trailed after his mother to the front of the house where a fancy buggy with two harnessed
horses sat waiting.
Percival was fussing over Aberforth's appearance, brushing dirt off of his robes and scolding
him for not washing his hair that morning. In other words, everything was going as normal.
That was until the screaming started.
"Ariana!" Albus's father sobbed, cradling the girl's limp figure in his arms. "No- please, Ariana..."
Albus skidded to a stop, almost tumbling the rest of the way down the hill and into the field of
daisies, now dead and dry. Ariana's brown hair partially obscured her unresponsive face, so
serene and calm as Albus stared upon her in shock.
With a shout, Aberforth came barreling down the hill at a run, ending with a slide through the
grass on his knees to stop at Ariana's side. "Ariana?" he asked in a small voice. At only a year
older, she and Aberforth were very close.
"What happened?" Kendra asked, picking her way down the hill with as much speed as she
could, given her age and cumbersome garments. Her voice shook, trembling with worry and
horror.
"The muggles," Albus's father Percival gulped. "They attacked her." His eyes glistened with
tears that were most unlike him. He was known for his dignity, pride and, above all, backbone.
Percival looked up, eyes pained but flickering with anger. "They attacked her!" he repeated. "All
she was doing was growing a few flowers and they attacked her!"
"Is she dead?" Albus asked, as if in a daze.
Everyone looked at him. His father blinked and checked her pulse. "No- no, she's not dead.
She's not dead. We have to get her back to the house."
He scooped her up in his arms and carried her small form back up the hill. Albus followed with
the others, mind blank but for thoughts of Ariana. He glanced back over his shoulder. The daisies
were gone.
29
Ariana nearly died on the way up the hill. However, with some quick wandwork and healing
spells, Kendra had managed to revive her before her body fully shut down. Albus watched his
mother work, handing her the herbs and towels she needed for the healing magic. By the time
she was finished, Ariana lay asleep, battered and bruised, but alive.
The healing had taken more out of Kendra than she was willing to admit.
"Sit down, dear, please," Percival said offering her a chair. She was too tired and weak to
protest.
"You have saved her. Our Ariana will be just fine."
"I will send a message to the Walchesters and tell them we are not coming," Albus offered.
Percival hardly seemed to hear. "Yes, Albus, do that."
Albus walked from the room, trying to fight the jealousy and resentment welling up inside of him.
Sure, he was concerned for his sister's well being, but she brought it upon herself. She should
have checked her magic, or not been practicing it where the muggles could have seen. And now,
their parents weren't even mad at her for ignoring their rules about hiding magic, but instead they
were fawning over her, ignoring Albus and Aberforth. Aberforth didn't seem to mind, but Albus
did. Oh, Albus did.
Albus cared about his sister more than almost anything; anything except the system of right and
wrong. Even at such a young age, he was well acquainted with the topic. Both Ariana and the
muggles were wrong in what they had done, but so were Percival and Kendra in failing to
acknowledge Ariana's part in it.
Why did she get so much attention for doing something she should not have when Albus got
nothing for always doing right? That wasn't fair.
Filled with bitterness, Albus continued on his way to call off the dinner party. He could not help
but think, yet again, that if only his siblings were more like he, this would not have happened.
None of this would have happened.
For, unlike his brother and sister, Albus strived to be perfect.
~
November 12th, 1891
Mould-on-the-Wold
England
As the candle flickered out and night fell, Albus rested his head on his arms. It was his turn to do
vigil for Ariana after another "episode" of hers that morning. It had been two months since the
30
attack and ever since, Ariana's magic had become...unpredictable. Dangerous, even. This time, it
was only a curio cabinet sliced in half, but Albus couldn't help but imagine a person standing
there in its place.
His heavy eyelids drifted shut, despite the fact that he was nervous to be alone in a room with
Ariana. He hoped that she'd used up her store of magical energy for a while. HIs parents
speculated that she was traumatized to release magic in the ways that a normal child would, so
instead she bottled it up. The problem was she could not control when it was released. Albus
wondered bitterly why his parents weren't more worried for the family's safety.
Shouldn't Ariana be sent away for help? Who could tell if tomorrow she'd lose control and slice
through someone instead of a piece of furniture.
Albus's worries were overcome by exhaustion. He had spent all day doing the chores that his
mother had neglected in favor of doting on Ariana. Albus had tried to get Aberforth to help, but
when that boy wanted to disappear, he did. Albus's eyes closed and he was out.
"Albus," a stiff voice said some time later, shaking him awake. "Albus, get up."
Albus sat up and rubbed his eyes, trying to focus. It was deep night now, the pitch black oozing
through the windows and seeping into the room. "Why?"
"We are going," Percival said with a hard glint in his eye. "I cannot watch your sister like this for
any longer without doing something about it."
That got Albus's attention. "Where are we going? Should I wake Aberforth?"
His father looked down at him. "Aberforth is too young. You... you are old enough."
Percival turned and strode from the room. Albus scrambled up, grabbing his wand and cloak
and hurrying after his father. "But where are we going?"
"To find the muggles who attacked her."
Albus's stomach twisted. "But... Why do I have to come?"
His father stopped in his tracks and turned to him. "Eventually, you will be the head of this
family. It will be your job to protect them, Albus. Protect them at all costs. You have to know what
that entails. A lesson, you can call it."
Albus knew all about his father's lessons. He trailed out the door after him feeling anything but
excited. They walked for what seemed like an eternity, down over the hill and then through the
muggle community. They might have looked conspicuous if it had been light out, but in the dark,
they blended right in.
"There," Percival said, pointing. "Three brothers. They live there. Ages thirteen, fourteen and
31
sixteen. They are the ones who attacked her."
"How do you know?"
In the moonlight, Albus's father's face had a threatening profile. His jaw was set in a stern line
and his eyes glinted with hard anger. In short, he was not to be messed around with. Albus
almost felt bad for the muggles. He had no idea what his father would do - he'd never seen him
like this.
"I've done my research," Percival muttered. "Come."
"Are we going to break in?" Albus asked nervously.
"Yes," he replied. "You simply watch all of this. I do not want you to get in trouble. If anyone
asks, you were not here at all, understand? Answer no questions about this night."
Albus's palms were beginning to sweat. "Why? What are you going to do?"
His father didn't answer. Instead, he stepped up to the side window of a low brick house. He lit
his wand and revealed three sleeping figures inside. Albus's throat clenched. Percival unlocked
the window with a spell and pushed it open silently. He looked back at Albus. "Stay here."
That wasn't a hard command to follow. Percival slipped into the room, wand still glowing enough
to see by. Albus watched as he moved to the door, locked it, and cast a silencing charm around
the room.
He felt sick.
Percival shot a large, floating ball of light up to the ceiling, to hang there and illuminate the
room. With a clap, he woke up all three groggy boys. Albus couldn't hear what was being said,
since he was outside of the charm, but it was obvious that the boys were scared out of their wits.
It seemed like Percival was refreshing their memories of the night they'd attacked his daughter.
Percival took a step forward. The boys scrambled out of bed and took a step back. Albus's
father smiled in cruel amusement. He fired a spell.
And that was when the silent screaming started.
Albus was horrified. "Stop!" he shouted. Percival didn't respond. Albus realized that with the
silencing charm, his father couldn't hear him. All shouting served to do was wake the neighbors.
But Albus couldn't watch this. He turned and ran from the house, sprinting as fast as he could
through the streets back towards home. His cloak whipped around his legs and he tripped,
face-planting onto the cobblestone street. It didn't matter. Albus got up, ignoring the scrapes and
dirt and kept on running.
32
Right then, he vowed never to be like his father. He vowed not to let anyone, not even his
family, change who he was deep inside. He was going to follow himself, and only himself. He
would protect his family, but that wasn't the way to go about it. Albus would sooner die than
cause that kind of hurt upon anybody.
He didn’t slow until he reached his front door.
.
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33
PERCIVAL DUMBLEDORE Wizarding World

ARRESTED FOR ATTACK ON Gone Mad?
by Bilius Wolfrang
THREE YOUNG MUGGLES Or is it just Percival Dumbledore? If all
by Harriet Gracenet
wizards acted on their views on pureblood
supremacy or lack thereof, we would have
quite a situation on our hands. This did not
seem to stop Dumbledore from taking out
his anger on three defenseless muggles.
Chances are the muggles did not even
An Auror disarming know why they were being so brutally
Dumbledore tortured - simply for not having magical
powers. Hopefully, the Wizengamot will
sort out Dumbledore's punishment and
give him something deserving. Perhaps they
should subject him to the same fate that he

forced the muggles into. Thoughts? Feel
Obliviation of the 3
free to write in with any opinions on what
Muggles
exactly they should do to Dumbledore.
Percival Dumbledore Continues on next page (A2)
Yesterday, on November 12th, Percival A Move in Pureblood

Dumbledore was caught by Aurors while torturing
three young muggle boys. Their muggle Supremacy
neighbors were apparently woken by some noise
by O. Umbridge
outside and alerted muggle police. Aurors arrived
As no other motive has been found for
on scene almost immediately, and the boys are
Percival Dumbledore's recent attack on
expected to recover fully. Dumbledore, on the three muggles, it seems that it must fall on
other hand, faces some serious charges of magical his views on pureblood supremacy. Finally,
felony with the Ministry. It is rumored that he after all these years of talk, someone has
used an unforgivable curse on the muggles. The decided to act upon the ideal the muggles
trial will be held in two weeks time, and he shall be are the inferior race. Perhaps Dumbledore
sentenced at that point. It is, as of yet, unclear went about it in the wrong way - a petition
what motivated such a vicious crime, but would have been much nicer - but
authorities are presently looking into it. There is nevertheless, he has managed to bring to
speculation that Dumbledore simply went mad, light the values that many people harbor,
finally releasing his long held hate of muggles and yet are too afraid to speak of. Hopefully,
allowing it to manifest itself in the form of cruel now with the subject in the spotlight, more
torture. Others think that he finally made a move people will come forward and join the
on pureblood supremacy. Officially, the motive is cause. The wizarding community can
finally do what they should have done years
unknown. Rest assured that if any information
ago and assert that they are the superior
should come through, it will appear here as race. Agree? Find a petition in the back of
quickly as possible. this issue and owl it in for your name to be
Continues on E5 added to the list. Continued on A2-A3
34
lbus closed the paper as a knock sounded on the front door. They had come to
A
ask questions. He swallowed hard.

November 13th, 1891
Mould-on-the-Wold
England

"Do you know where your father went last night?" the questioner asked. He was a tall man with
thinning blonde hair and a stern, serious face. Albus forced himself not to fidget.
"No," he lied.
"Did you hear him leave?"
"No."
"Did he speak with you beforehand? Tell you anything about where or why he was going?" the
interrogator continued.
Albus felt claustrophobic even in the spacious, empty room. Every breath seemed labored, yet
he kept an appearance of calm. Albus was practicing to become an expert liar, even at such a
young age. "No," he replied. Albus let a hint of worry into his voice, trying to sound like the
confused and ignorant child he was supposed to be. "Why? Why do you want to know about my
father?"
The man considered him over horn-rimmed glasses. "You do not know what he has done?"
Albus shook his head.
"Your father attacked three muggle boys. He broke the law. Do you have any idea why he would
do this?"
“No." Answering with the truth would mean Ariana would be sent away, Albus's mother had told
him. They had to lie, for her. All of this for her. Even though it was because of her.
"Your father never expressed any violent tendencies?"
Albus managed not to flinch. "No."
The man nodded and marked something down on a notepad. "Very well, thank you for being
honest. Are your brother and sister available for questioning?" Albus didn't need to be told that it
wasn't a good idea for either of them to be put on the spot. Aberforth was a little too candid and
Ariana was... well, Ariana. "I think my sister's sleeping and my brother is pretty shaken up. Both
of them are probably too young to understand what you are asking anyway," he said.
The questioner's eyes narrowed slightly. "I generally like to talk to every member of the family to
35
make sure their stories match up. Sometimes the young ones are the most honest."
Albus stood. "Please, sir. They are confused as it is. I'd... well, if you understand, I would rather
like to not have to explain to them exactly what happened." Albus laid it on thick. He looked at the
older man pleadingly, trying his best to sound convincing. He was rather good at it.
After a hesitation, the man softened. "Alright. But if they mention anything, or think of anything,
be sure to report it."
Albus nodded quickly. "I will, sir!" he chirped obediently.
He moved for the door, passing into the foyer. Kendra stood up from her chair, looking anxious.
The official nodded to her. "Best wishes, ma'm. The trial will take place on November 27th."
Kendra nodded. "Thank you. Here, let me see you out..."
By the time she had returned, Albus had composed himself. His hands had stopped shaking
from the concentration and stress of lying.
"What did he ask?" his mother inquired.
"Everything we expected him to," Albus replied. "I convinced him not to talk to Aberforth and
Ariana."
Kendra's eyes watered as she smiled, overwhelmed with emotion. "Oh, Albus, you are such a
good son. With your father gone..." she choked up.
"Don't worry, mother," Albus replied comfortingly. "It will be fine."

November 28th, 1891
Mould-on-the-Wold
England

Everything was regrettably not fine. Kendra sat at the kitchen table, eyes red and puffy from the
tears. When she had returned the night before, it was easy enough to see that things hadn't gone
very well. Albus's mother had been in no state to talk then, but now Albus broached the topic.
"What did they decide?" he asked.
Kendra dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief. "He was sentenced," her voice broke, "to life in
Azkaban."
36
This news brought on a whole new round of tears. Albus took the news with a cold detachment.
After seeing his father that night... Well, he couldn't help but wonder whether or not he deserved
it. Albus's mother took his lack of emotion differently. She smiled fondly.
"Oh, bless you, you are too young to understand. In time, Albus..." she trailed off. "Go get your
brother and sister and tell them to pack."
"Pack?" Albus asked.
Kendra nodded. "We're moving. My sister has found us a place nice and far away. Hopefully a
good ways from this scandal."
Albus's heart dropped. He was supposed to start school the next year. "I'll still be going to
Hogwarts, right?"
She nodded absently. "Oh, yes. Now go pack."
Albus headed up the stairs to find his brother and sister. He found Aberforth in his room, staring
out the window. "We are moving, Aberforth. Mother wants you to pack."
Aberforth didn't reply for a moment. "This is because of Ariana, isn't it?"
Albus hesitated.
His brother turned around, a look in his eyes that went far past his meager years. "You blame
her, don't you?"
Slowly, Albus nodded.
"It's not her fault!" Aberforth insisted. "She didn't ask for this!"
"If she had listened to me when I told her to come inside-"
"She's a child, Albus!"
"So are you!" Albus shouted in return.
Aberforth quieted and stared at his brother. Albus knew that was almost unfair to say, what with
he himself being only ten years old, but he felt far more mature than his years. He had always felt
that way. Reading at age four, writing not long after. He had always been ahead of the other kids.
Always been superior. He may be young in years, but he was much wiser than he looked.
"It's not her fault," Aberforth said again, quieter. "She's really sad about it. About everything."
Albus didn't reply. He couldn't help but think that she was responsible for this entire situation.
37
For making them move. For putting their father in prison. For ruining their lives. For putting the
family in danger. For hurting those muggles, however inadvertently.
"Fine, then. You go help her pack. I will be in my room."
Aberforth didn't reply as Albus walked from the room to his own. He shut the door with a bang
and sank to the floor, dropping his head in his hands. He blamed everyone right then. He blamed
Ariana for starting this whole thing, his father for making it worse. He blamed Aberforth for
defending them, and his mother for being too weak to do anything to help them. He blamed
himself for not forcing Ariana back to the house and blamed the muggles for hurting her like they
did.
Letting all his bottled up emotions loose, Albus sobbed unashamedly. He hated his life. He
hated this scandal. He hated how everyone looked at him suspiciously when he'd walk to the
store for milk. Albus hated his family, and himself. Perhaps by moving he could start over. Yes, a
clean slate. That sounded nice.
Standing, Albus pulled his trunk out from his closet and began throwing clothes in haphazardly,
tears still streaming down his face. When he'd emptied a whole drawer, he stopped and looked at
the mess. This wasn't him. Albus was neat, orderly. He would never shove clothes in a trunk with
such chaos. What was he doing?
Almost in a daze, Albus took each piece of clothing out, folded it, and stacked it on the bed.
When he had several neat rows, he moved them back to the trunk, placing them in the most
strategic pattern so as to fit as many clothes as he could. This was Albus. Organized, proper, and
most importantly - in control. Albus was in control. He thought back to that vow he made on the
night of his father's crime.
"I am in control," Albus muttered to himself. He repeated, over and over, "I am in control."
Albus started on the next drawer, keeping everything carefully folded. After finishing with his
clothes, Albus moved on to other things. He wrapped and packed trinkets and baubles until he
came to something strikingly familiar, yet oddly distant. It was a pair of cufflinks, large, gaudy,
and engraved with the family crest. Percival had given them to Albus, saying that they had been
passed down for five generations to the eldest son. It was supposed to be an honor to wear them
and represent the family. Albus turned them over in his hand. He didn't feel honored.
Looking from the cufflinks to the trunk and back, Albus frowned. He could take them. They were
small, meaning they took up hardly any space. He could give them Aberforth, despite the
breaking of tradition. Yet somehow, Albus didn't feel right about doing that. He felt betrayed by
his father, who trusted with so much. With far too much. Why had he taken him that night,
scarred him for life? To prove a point about sticking up for family. If that was what family meant to
the Dumbledore's, Albus wasn't having it. He casually tossed the links into the garbage, turning
away without a second thought.
He was in control now.
38

August 30th, 1892
Godric’s Hollow
England

Albus stared out the window at the rest of the little village of Godric's Hollow. He saw his
neighbor, Bathilda Bagshot, out weeding in her garden, and a passing couple walking down the
sidewalk holding hands. He smiled. Albus wasn't going to miss this place. This was his jail, and
now, at Hogwarts, he was finally going to be freed.
Albus shoved the rest of his things in his trunk and latched the lid. He'd gone to Diagon Alley the
day before to get his wand, robes, books and other various items. Of course, he had gone alone
because his mother refused to leave Ariana alone for even an hour. He was eleven years old and
wandering Diagon Alley alone. Albus had gotten lost more than once, but naturally no one
noticed or cared. But he wasn't bitter. No, Albus definitely wasn't bitter that his mother had no
time for him...
With a sigh, he lugged his trunk down the stairs to the landing by the front door. He patted his
pockets. Albus had his wand, his bit of money, his train ticket. He was ready.
"Have everything, Albus?" Kendra asked, wandering in from another room. The past months
had been hard on her. She was pale, thin and sickly looking. Albus felt bad for her, but at the
same time resented her for not pulling herself together for them.
"Yes, mother," he replied stiffly.
She smiled at him. Albus managed a small smile in return.
"I'll be going now..." he said, gesturing to the door.
"What about saying goodbye to your brother and sister?" his mother asked.
"Oh, right," Albus muttered.
"Aberforth! Ariana!" Kendra called. In a few seconds, Aberforth appeared, dragging a decidedly
listless Ariana by the hand. "Albus is leaving for Hogwarts."
“Goodbye, Albus," Aberforth said sincerely. He tugged on Ariana's hand.
"Ariana?"
39
"Bye," she said.
Albus nodded to the two of them. "Goodbye. Goodbye, mother."
Kendra stepped forward and enveloped him in a hug. When she pulled away, Albus saw a
glistening of tears in her eyes. He pretended that he hadn't. With a final nod, he pulled his trunk
out the door, heading for the carriage that would take him to the train station. From there, he
would take the train far away to a new life.

Professor Brandey surveyed the first years. "When your name is called, you will advance to the
platform where the sorting hat will be placed on your head. You are all to be on your best
behavior. Understood?" He stood stiffly, his chin thrust into the air. He had thinning white hair and
spectacles, but they managed to make him look wise and strict rather than grandfatherly. No one
replied, but it was clear that they had gotten the message. Brandey nodded. "Follow me, then."
Albus went with his class into the Great Hall and was similarly amazed when faced with the
huge ceiling that sparkled with stars. He couldn't hold back a smile. He felt so at home, which
was absurd in such a foreign castle.
They lined up across the front of the Great Hall, in front of the table lined with teachers. On a
stool sat a very gently worn pointed leather hat; the Sorting Hat, he assumed. Professor Brandey
hobbled to the front and withdrew a large scroll. He unfurled it dramatically, looking out over the
hall of students with a critical eye, making sure everyone quieted.
"When I call your name, come forth," he reiterated. "Alverias, Jeremiah."
A small boy stepped forward and took a tentative seat on the stool. Brandey set the hat on his
head and stepped back. After a moment's deliberation, it declared, "Hufflepuff!"
The respective table cheered and the boy went to join them with a nervous smile.
"Calder, Heidi."
"Ravenclaw!"
The girl hopped off of the stool and all but skipped to her table. Albus's palms began to sweat.
The students cheered again and a pleasant wave of conversation spread throughout the hall.
"Doge, Elphias."
No one paid attention to Elphias as he went up to the stool, which was probably a good thing as
40
he was covered in terrible looking marks from his brush with dragon pox. He seemed a bit green
to Albus as he passed, but whether that was from the dragon pox or the nervousness, he wasn't
sure.
"Gryffindor!"
"Dumbledore, Albus," Brandey called over the thrum of chatter.
As if someone had flipped a switch, everyone quieted. The students stared for a moment as
Albus shuffled forward, no longer quite so sure of himself. After a brief moment of silence, the
faint drone of whispers drifted up to the front. Albus's stomach clenched. What were they saying
about him? What a way to begin his "fresh start". Albus took a nervous seat on the stool and felt
the hat come down on his head.
The gravelly voice of the hat rang in his ear. Well, well. Hm... You are an interesting one, boy.
There's Slytherin cunning in you, oh yes. Well buried, sure, but there nonetheless. And yet, you
are brilliant enough for Ravenclaw to call you one of their own. But there is still loyalty and
kindness of a Hufflepuff in you. Gryffindor bravery, too... You really have it all, boy. You could go
anywhere.
Albus's mind raced. He could go anywhere. This was his chance. This was his chance to stand
up to those controlling his life, to take control himself-
Take control, you say? Well, that's quite a Gryffindor thought. But Slytherin, too...
Albus waited.
"Gryffindor!" the hat announced after deliberation.
The decision did nothing to ease Albus's nervousness. He slid off of the stool and headed for
his table. No one clapped, no one cheered. The hall was eerily silent. As Albus took what
seemed like an eternity to walk to his seat, he became vaguely aware of another name being
called.
Albus took a seat at the Gryffindor table under many watchful eyes. He sat on the bench next to
Elphias, whom everyone was making an effort to avoid. No one spoke to either of them, or shook
their hands.
In the background sounded, "Hufflepuff!"
Albus stared down at his plate, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. Still, none of the
people around him spoke. In fact, no one said anything until well after the food had appeared.
"You, Dumbledore," one of the older kids said. Albus looked up. "How come you are not in
Slytherin? Isn't your family all 'pureblood supremacy'?"
41
"No, we-"
"No?"
Albus repeated tiredly, "No."
"Then why did your father attack those muggles?" someone else spoke up.
Albus stayed silent. He knew that by not answering, he would appear to be conceding, but he
couldn't very well spill out Ariana's secret after keeping it for so long.
"Should've been a Slytherin," the first boy repeated.
Albus clenched his fists under the table but didn't say anything.
"So if one of us gets on your nerves, you going to attack us too?" he asked. "Follow in your
father's footsteps?"
"No," Albus said through clenched teeth. "I'm not like that!"
The boy scoffed. "Yeah, I bet that's what your father told the prison guards."
It took everything Albus had to keep from leaping at the boy. His fists itched to connect with the
side of his face, but he was restrained by a hand on his arm.
"Leave him alone," Elphias spoke up.
Everyone around the table quieted and observed the pair.
"Well, we have ourselves a real Gryffindor, it seems," a young girl said from a few seats down.
She smiled lightly. "Congratulations."
After a tense moment of silence, the boys went back to their individual conversations and left
Elphias and Albus alone. He released Albus's arm.
"Thanks," Albus muttered.
"Of course," he replied. "I don't believe you hate muggles. Do you?"
Albus shook his head. He ate a few bits of his meal in silence. "Maybe we can be friends?" he
asked finally.
Elphias smiled, stretching his pockmarked skin. "You're not put off by my appearance?"
"It isn't contagious, is it?" Albus asked.
42
"No."
"Then what is the difference?" he replied.
Elphias was still smiling. "Then I would love to be friends," he said, offering his hand. "I'm
Elphias."
Albus accepted the handshake. "Albus Dumbledore."
A Note from Rita
I hate to interrupt your reading, my friends, but it's important to note that
this was not the only time Albus was accused of supporting pureblood
supremacy. While he initially denied such claims, his sincerity was indeed
questionable. As you have seen from early on, Albus was no amateur liar. In
fact, he was quite practiced at lying to his mother, father, and even the
authorities. While I have interviewed many of Albus's classmates as to his
response, it is no longer a certainty that Albus's word was honest. Later on, he
stopped denying it entirely, according to them. Just something to think about.
Most of Albus's Hogwarts time was composed of him off by himself with his
one and only friend Elphias - outcasts together. This wouldn't be the first
bond he'd form with an unaccepted male, but we'll come back to that later. For
now, we'll highlight a few points of Albus's Hogwarts years, but I won't bore
you with the mundane details.

After all, I'm sure you readers want to get to the juicy stuff as much as I do.

Well, I'll stop interrupting and let you read. Have you formed your opinion of
Albus yet? No? Well you will. That, I promise you.

Kisses,
Rita
43

May 23rd, 1899
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Albus walked out of the castle feeling immensely satisfied with himself. He had been so glad to
have Griselda Marchbanks for his Charms and Transfiguration NEWT exams and was quite
certain that he'd amazed her with his prepared tricks. For anyone else less easily impressed, he
might not have gotten such an enthusiastic reaction. Albus grinned to himself; he'd made sure
that he would stick out in her mind.
Marchbanks would probably go around telling people about him and his impressive magic now.
"Elphias!" Albus called, waving his friend over. The smaller boy came stumbling over. "Walk to
the Potions exam with me?"
"Of course," his friend replied. "How were your exams so far?"
Albus shrugged. "Alright." It wouldn't do to appear as anything but humble. "I'm hoping I did not
do as badly as it seemed."
"Oh, I'm sure you didn't," Elphias assured him. "Myself on the other hand..."
Albus clapped him on the shoulder. "You are brighter than you give yourself credit for, my
friend."
Elphias muttered something unintelligible. The day was gorgeous - clear blue skies, a gentle
breeze and a comfortable but not overly hot sun. Bird chittered in the trees and creatures
screamed in the forbidden forest. All was as it was supposed to be.
Unfortunately, the beautiful day was ruined for Albus. He would be going home the next day for
the last time. His Hogwarts career was over. There was such a sense of striking loss that Albus
would have cried, if he had been the crying type. This was his sanctuary, his second life, his real
home. And now... back to his utterly ordinary family. Well perhaps "ordinary" wouldn't be quite the
word for it, but regardless Albus wanted something great. He wanted to see the world, to be
famous - not to take care of his sister and mother for the rest of his life.
"Elphias, what do you say we go on a World Tour?" Albus proposed with sudden energy. "You
know, take a year, see the world... Everybody is doing it these days."
Elphias scratched his neck. "I would love to Albus, but the cost..."
"I have it covered, my friend!" Albus promised, a plan forming in his mind. "I have those prize
44
winnings from the Barnabas Finkley Prize for Exceptional Spell-Casting," he said, admiring how
the name rolled off the tongue. "And Janice Wright is always offering to sponsor me, I could take
her up on it. But I wouldn't want to go alone. You could use the prize money."
"Janice Wright?" Elphias repeated, confused.
"From the Wizengamot," Albus said with a hint of pride. He had been chosen as the British
Youth Representative to the Wizengamot about a year before, but still liked to slip it into
conversation. "What do you say?"
Elphias gave him a sideways glance, looking nervous. "Are you sure?"
"Of course!"
"Then yes! I mean, if you are certain," he added worriedly.
"I am," Albus assured him. "Come on, let's go knock out this last test and then we can get to
planning."
At last Albus had something to look forward to. And he had successfully put off his return home
for any length of time for another year. They wandered back into the castle for their Potions
NEWT. Albus wasn't nervous. Why should he be? Potions came as naturally to him as any other
class did. And the whole school knew how easily other magics came to him. They had long ago
ceased whispering about Percival Dumbledore, at least where Albus could hear. He had proved
early on that his magic was far superior to others his age. At that rate, they weren't about to take
any chances. If Albus turned out to be like his father, he could inflict quite a bit of damage.
As the years went on, however, Albus's reputation grew to that of a respected, intelligent
student. He always seemed so kind and patient, never missing a chance to help out a fellow
student. Or to show his brilliance. In time, the rumors began to fade dramatically, even though
the general population never quite accepted Albus as a friend. He was always set apart. If not by
pre-formed notions, then by his brilliance.
"Dumbledore, Albus," Albus introduced himself to the NEWT administrator. The man checked
his name off of the list and looked up.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Dumbledore, my name is Nicholas Flamel," the man with a silvery halo of
hair said. "I have your NEWT level test all set up for you."
Albus ignored that part. "Mr. Flamel? Well, it is a pleasure," he said, offering a handshake which
was graciously accepted. "I have read much of your work and found it utterly fascinating."
The noted alchemist's eyes twinkled. "Well, my boy, let's see you try your hand at potions. That
is what we are here for, isn't it?"
"Yes, it is," Albus agreed, turning his attention to the cauldron and ingredients in front of him.
45
"The instructions are on the sheet. You have forty five minutes. Begin."
Albus brewed the assigned Mopsus Potion with no difficulty. He sprinkled the last of the bone
meal in and the potion turned the appropriate shade of lavender. Albus glanced at the time. Ten
minutes to spare.
Flamel was staring at the potion in wonder. "Remarkable. I reckon that if I took that potion, I
would become a better Seer than Cassandra, and I can assure you, she was excellent! Not that I
know that first hand, of course," he added hastily. "Full marks, my boy."
"Thank you, sir," Albus said with a smile. He picked up his pack and turned to go. "Again, it was
a pleasure to make your acquaintance." He turned away.
"Wait!" Flamel called before he had gone three steps. Albus turned back. "You are truly gifted,
my boy. Should you ever be wanting a scientific partnership in your career, do look me up.
I would much like to work with you. See what other brilliant things are lurking in that brain of
yours." He gave a grandfatherly, crinkle-eyed smile.
Albus was bursting with excitement but kept it contained. He gave a polite smile. "I would enjoy
that as well, sir. I'll be sure to contact you. Good day."
For Albus, it was quite a good day indeed. Little did he know that it would be one of the last that
he could label as such.

June 1st, 1899
Godric’s Hollow
England

"Mother?" Albus called, levitating his trunk through the doorway and into the foyer. "I am home."
He looked around for Aberforth, but found no sign of him other than the muddy boots in the hall.
If all went as planned, Aberforth should have returned two days before Albus, who had stopped
for a few nights in London along the way.
Kendra appeared at the top of the stairs, looking older and even more beaten down than she
46
had when Albus had left last fall. "Oh, Albus dear! Welcome home. Finally, you are here to stay,"
she said with a wan smile. "Did you do well on your N.E.W.T.s?"
"The scores will take a little while to come back," Albus replied. "But I am certain I've done well.
Mother, there is somethin-"
"Oh, come to the kitchen, Albus. I think Fendril just baked a fresh batch of biscuits. Where is
he? He ought to start some tea," she said absently, looking around for the house elf.
"Mother-"
"Oh, I suppose I will just start it myself," Kendra said, bustling off towards the kitchen.
"Mother!" Albus said, grabbing her arm before she got out of reach.
She looked at him in concern. "Is something wrong?"
Albus let go of her. "I'm not staying for long. I have decided to do the Grand Tour with Elphias.
We are leaving in two days."
Kendra looked stricken. "But... I thought - Ariana and..."
"I'm sorry, mother, but I want to go see the world. I have to make my own way," Albus said
insistently.
His mother frowned. "Well, if that is what you have to do. How long will you be gone?"
"A year," Albus replied, gauging her reaction carefully. She simply nodded, looking distant. He
decided to change the subject. "How is Ariana?"
Kendra hesitated. "Alright. There has not been much change since you last saw her. I ought to
bring her down, yes?"
"I would like to see her," Albus agreed. "Is she sleeping?"
"No, no..." she replied. "I will get her presentable. Would you start the tea?"
Albus nodded. "Of course."
As Kendra disappeared upstairs, Albus headed for the kitchen. He felt bad for disappointing his
mother by leaving so soon, but it was what he needed to do. After caring for Ariana last
summer...Well, he wasn't sure that he could handle it again. He didn't have the patience to deal
with her. And though he was certainly feeling guilty for leaving his mother and brother to care for
her, Albus had to keep his priorities straight. His own life came first. He had to do what was best
for himself.
47
Albus filled the teapot absentmindedly, stopping just before it overflowed. He set it on the stove
and turned it on to heat. Without thinking, Albus opened the china cupboard and got out some
teacups and saucers. He set them on the table and turned his back to them, looking out the
window.
At first, the sound of clinking china didn't seem to register in his mind. Albus turned, confused to
find the teacups rattling on their saucers. It was almost as if the ground was shaking, but nothing
else seemed affected. In a bizarre move, the teapot suddenly started squealing a high pitched
moan, even though there was no way that it could be done heating already.
Albus shut off the fire just as the china cupboard behind him exploded. He spun that way,
throwing up his arms to shield his face as shards of porcelain flew through the air. Without
warning, the teapot burst, spraying Albus's back with boiling water. Even through the thick layers
of his cloak and robes, he could feel the heat.
As a scream sounded from upstairs, Albus suddenly realized what was happening. He sprinted
from the room, crunching china beneath his feet heedlessly. Albus pounded up the stairs, his
legs moving without conscious thought. He burst into Ariana's room and felt his heart catch in his
chest.
Ariana lay sprawled across the bed, chest fluttering up and down ever so slightly. Albus's
mother, however, was on the ground, neck twisted at an unnatural angle. She showed no sign of
movement. The room was in tatters. The window had been shattered, the lamp lay in a pile of
broken glass, the wooden nightstand was splintered and tilting. The air hung heavy and charged.
Albus sank to the floor, overcome with sudden emotion. His mother was dead. His sister was at
fault, but nobody could know. His plans would have to be canceled and funeral arrangements
made.
In essence, Albus's dreams were crushed.

June 6th, 1899
Godric’s Hollow
England

After the funeral service, the people began to disperse. Albus stood silent, his hands in the
pockets of his robes, long black cloak fluttering in the breeze. He stared at the gravestone,
unmoving, as a figure came up beside him. Albus didn't bother to turn. He had been getting
condolences all day and he was quite honestly sick of them.
"It seems so natural, doesn't it?" the man muttered.
48
"Pardon?"
"The cycle of life and death," he clarified. "There is something about life not outliving its
welcome that is...refreshing."
Albus frowned and turned. "Sorry, do I know you?"
The man lowered his hood to reveal a handsome, mischievous face framed by golden hair. His
eyes twinkled playfully. Albus judged him to be about the same age as himself. The stranger
offered his hand.
"Gellert Grindelwald," he introduced himself. "I live next door."
Albus accepted the handshake. "Albus Dumbledore. I take it you knew my family."
Gellert gave a casual shrug. "I knew of them. They didn't leave the house much, as I am sure
you know."
Yes," Albus replied. "How is it that we have never met?"
The corner of Gellert's mouth pulled up into a lopsided grin. "Who said I leave the house much
either?"
"Oh." Something about this boy made Albus nervous, but he wasn't scared. It was an odd feeling.
"No, really, I traveled quite a bit over the past few years. Did some studying abroad," Gellert
threw out casually. "I am only here for the summer with my great-aunt. You probably know her -
Bathilda Bagshot."
"I do. So you didn't go to Hogwarts, then?" Albus asked.
He laughed. "Hogwarts? No."
"Ah." There was a temporary silence. "I was supposed to go on the Grand Tour with a friend,
but now... Well, I have other duties, it seems."
"Yes - your brother, correct?" Gellert asked.
Albus nodded. He sometimes forgot that no one knew about Ariana. "I ought to go. It has been
nice meeting you; we ought to talk again."
"Of course," Gellert replied smoothly. "Stop over any time you like."
"I just might take you up on that."
49

July 1st, 1899
Godric’s Hollow
England

Albus stretched his legs out on the green grass and leaned back, letting the sun warm his face. Gellert sat up
from where he was laying.
"Tell me, Albus, do you believe in the Deathly Hallows?"
"Absolutely," Albus replied. "It would be hard not to with the Peverell family so tied into Godric's Hollow."
Gellert gazed out over the field, going silent for a minute. Finally, he said, "What do you think it'd be like?”
"What?"
"Being the master of death," he said. "Do you think it's possible?"
Albus gave a half shrug. "I don't see why not."
"Which one would you want?" Gellert asked. Albus thought for a moment as Gellert continued, "I would want
the Elder wand."
"What would you do with it?" Albus asked.
Gellert turned to him with a hungry gleam in his eye. "I have been thinking."
"Oh no..." Albus muttered playfully. In the month they had been friends, Albus had begun to understand
Gellert a little better.
Gellert flashed him the handsome grin that Albus had become familiar with. Something stirred in Albus's
chest, but he forced it down. "Could you imagine how much better things would be if muggles knew about
wizards?"
"Better?" Albus asked in surprise.
Waving a hand, Gellert replied, "Oh, I know about your dad, but that is an exception. On the whole, things
would be better. If the wizards were in charge..."
"That's true," he replied. "We could use magic to improve everyone's lives. After all, why should only wizards
get the benefit of magic?"
Gellert nodded a bit distractedly. "The point is, the world would be better if wizards were in charge. The Elder
wand could make that happen."
"True. It definitely could."
"I wonder where it is..." he mused.
50
"Gellert!" came a shout from the top of the hill. "Gellert!"
He sighed. "I should go. Aunt Bathilda thinks I spend too much time with you."
Albus felt both guilty and touched at the same time. "Go on, then. I do not want you to get in trouble over me."
Gellert stood up and brushed the grass off of his robes. "There is a way around everything," he said. "Look
out your window tonight, alright?"
"Okay...?"
Gellert winked and went trotting up the hill. "Goodbye, Albus!"
Albus's goodbye was lost in the wind.

51
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Rita Skeeter: The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore

From the Bestselling Author of A

42 years – that is the amount of time Albus Dumbledore spent at Hogwarts as

This deliberately vague yet oh-so-inviting comment alone had me on tenterhooks,

lesson a student was attacked by a rampaging hippogriff and he subscribed the

​ ilderoy Lockhart​ - Claimed to have defeated a Zombie, a Banshee, a Yeti, a

young wizard he attended Durmstrang - a European wizarding school with a reputation

Undeterred by his Durmstrang expulsion, the young Grindelwald headed to Godric's

A dramatic three-way duel between Aberforth, Grindelwald and Albus ended in

But enough suspicions - time to go on with some facts.

Autumn 1991: Harry Potter started attending Hogwarts. Immediately he became

"To fetch Ariana," Albus replied.

"But I am growing a garden!" she said cheerfully. "Look, I just started."

Three daisies poked out of the green grass.

"Pleeeasseeee," she whined, louder.

Albus sighed. "Fine. Two minutes. We will be waiting at the house."

"Okay!" Ariana replied.

"Where's Ariana?" Kendra demanded.

That was until the screaming started.

"Is she dead?" Albus asked, as if in a daze.

"You have saved her. Our Ariana will be just fine."

Percival hardly seemed to hear. "Yes, Albus, do that."

For, unlike his brother and sister, Albus strived to be perfect.

"To find the muggles who attacked her."

Albus's stomach twisted. "But... Why do I have to come?"

sixteen. They are the ones who attacked her."

"How do you know?"

"I've done my research," Percival muttered. "Come."

"Are we going to break in?" Albus asked nervously.

And that was when the silent screaming started.

He didn’t slow until he reached his front door.

PERCIVAL DUMBLEDORE Wizarding World

Y​esterday, on November 12th, Percival A Move in Pureblood

"Did you hear him leave?"

Albus shook his head.

"Your father never expressed any violent tendencies?"

Albus managed not to flinch. "No."

Albus nodded quickly. "I will, sir!" he chirped obediently.

Kendra nodded. "Thank you. Here, let me see you out..."

"What did he ask?" his mother inquired.

"Don't worry, mother," Albus replied comfortingly. "It will be fine."

"What did they decide?" he asked.

"Pack?" Albus asked.

She nodded absently. "Oh, yes. Now go pack."

Slowly, Albus nodded.

"If she had listened to me when I told her to come inside-"

"She's a child, Albus!"

"So are you!" Albus shouted in return.

"Fine, then. You go help her pack. I will be in my room."

He was in control now.

"Yes, mother," he replied stiffly.

She smiled at him. Albus managed a small smile in return.

"I'll be going now..." he said, gesturing to the door.

"Oh, right," Albus muttered.

“Goodbye, Albus," Aberforth said sincerely. He tugged on Ariana's hand.

"Bye," she said.

Albus nodded to the two of them. "Goodbye. Goodbye, mother."

"When I call your name, come forth," he reiterated. "Alverias, Jeremiah."

"Dumbledore, Albus," Brandey called over the thrum of chatter.

"Gryffindor!" the hat announced after deliberation.

In the background sounded, "Hufflepuff!"

Albus repeated tiredly, "No."

"Should've been a Slytherin," the first boy repeated.

ilderoy Lockhart - Claimed to have defeated a Zombie, a Banshee, a Yeti, a

Yesterday, on November 12th, Percival A Move in Pureblood