“Aunt Petunia?” came a quiet voice from the kitchen doorway. She looked at the emerald eyed five year old with concern; Harry sounded frightened.
“Yes, baby?” she queried, concerned. She had been given legal custody of her sister’s child after their deaths. Lily was very worried about the plans that the headmaster of that school had for her son, and had contacted her sister in hopes that Petunia would be willing to take care of Harry should something happen to James and she. Though Sirius Black had been suggested as godfather by Dumbledore, neither James nor Lily trusted that the scatterbrained, vindictive man would keep their son away from Albus’ machinations.
“There’s a creepy old man standing outside and watching me,” her nephew told her, voice trembling with fear.
“Where is he?” Petunia questioned the child, eyes narrowed angrily.
“He’s standing down the street, by the park,” was the reply as the five year old walked up to her, arms out and seeking comfort. She knelt and hugged him tightly, whispering soothing nothings in his ear to calm him down.
“Better?” she asked after a few moments. At his nod, she said, “I have some biscuits and chocolate milk for you and Dudley. I want you to take them upstairs, and the both of you stay there for the rest of the day.”
“Okay,” the boy replied, old man forgotten at the promise of treats. She handed him a packet of chocolate chip cookies and two small bottles of Hershey’s chocolate milk and he eagerly scampered away. She could hear him make his ponderous way up the stairs and she instantly went to the phone in the kitchen, dialing nine-nine-nine and waiting impatiently for someone to answer.
“Nine-nine-nine, what is your emergency?” came the bored voice of the operator.
“I need police out here immediately,” Petunia replied urgently. “There’s an old man standing down by the park, watching my nephew as he plays in the yard.”
“Do you know what this man looks like?” the operator asked, no longer sounding bored.
“He’s about fifty years old and has long white hair and a long white beard,” she told the operator as she looked out her front window. “He’s wearing a bright purple pinstripe suit with a lurid lavender shirt and tie. He’s got half-moon spectacles and a bowler hat on his head.”
“We have a unit on the way right now, ma’am,” the officer told her. “Make sure to keep your nephew inside until we’ve gained control of the situation.”
“Thank you,” Harry’s aunt sighed out in relief. She hung up and waited patiently, a malicious smirk on her face. She’d never liked the old man; from the first time she’d met him when Lily was seven and she was eight, he’d always given her an uncomfortably creepy feeling. He almost seemed obsessed with Lily, which made alarm bells go off in her brain. After he’d left, her sister and she had a long, intense conversation about Dumbledore.
Flashback
“Are you sure you want to go to this magic school?” Petunia asked her sister worriedly. “There’s something about that old man that makes me really uneasy.”
“I know, sis,” Lily replied softly. “I feel the same way. Mum and Dad researched the other magical schools and found Hogwarts to be the most affordable. Besides, those other schools are too far away. I’ll be fine, and if anything comes up that I can’t handle, I’ll come home right away.”
“You’ll be putting yourself in his world without anyone to protect you,” Petunia protested vehemently. “What if he does something unsavory to you; there’ll be no way for you to protect yourself from that sort of abuse.”
“Severus is going with me, and he’ll keep me safe,”Lily replied confidently. “I’m sure that I’ll make lots of friends that will run interference between me and the old man. If anything happens that I can’t deal with, I’ll let you know.”
End Flashback
The police car arrived on the scene, lights flashing but siren silent; they were very mindful of the quiet neighborhood and the possibility of children napping, so they kept their arrival as quiet as possible. They stopped just down the road and stepped out of the car, surveying the old man cautiously to see if he was any sort of immediate threat. Seeing him just standing there, eyes focused on the Dursley home, they walked up to him and bracketed him as they questioned him.
“Good afternoon, sir,” the male officer said. “I am Officer Clark Owens, and this is my partner, Officer Marge Gunderson. Do you live in any of these homes?”
“Why, no, officer, I do not,” the old man replied genially, barely glancing at either policeman before returning the intensity of his focus back on the Dursley home.
“May I ask what you’re doing here?” Officer Gunderson queried, eyes meeting her partner’s and silent communicating flying between them. Owens shifted slightly and centered himself, prepared to tackle the old gentleman to the ground if he showed any signs of fleeing or approaching the family in question.
“I’m just here to keep an eye on Harry Potter,” Dumbledore answered blithely, unaware that his response sent the officers’ hackles up.
“Are you related to the child, sir?” Owens queried, hand on his billy club.
“Not at all,” Albus said with a charming smile and a twinkle in his blue eyes. “I just have a vested interest in seeing to the child’s welfare.”
“Put your hands on your head and turn around,” Marge barked, hand going to the back of her belt where her handcuffs hung. Albus looked at the young woman as if she’d lost her mind before returning his gaze to the Dursley home, a beatific smile on his face. Owens, seeing something almost loving in that gaze, immediately grabbed Albus’ left hand and pulled it behind his back. The officer grabbed his own set of cuffs and snapped one around the old man’s wrist before grabbing the other arm and doing the same.
They frog-marched Dumbledore across the street and stuffed him into their car, peeling out from their parking spot, anxious to get this likely child predator off of their streets. They’d done a basic pat-down, but missed the wand that was residing in its holder on his left arm.
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July 14, 1986
Professor Severus Snape
Hogwarts
Dear Professor Snape,
I am sorry to be writing you like this, but I don’t really have anywhere else to turn. My name is Petunia Dursley, and my sister was Lily Potter. When she died, Frank Longbottom brought Harry to me; you see, she and I had planned everything out in advance, to ensure that her son would be protected from that old man. Anyway, just a few days ago, he was in my neighborhood, watching Harry whilst he played outside with the dog. Harry came in and told me about it right away; it seems that the headmaster had been staring at Harry the entire time the boy was outside, and it really creeped him out. I called the police and reported Dumbledore for his predatory behavior. Hopefully, that’ll put an end to his stalking.
I just wanted to let you know that Harry’s safe and happy, and that Lily loved you very much. You did everything you could to protect her from the old man, and for that I will always be grateful. Though I don’t have access to my magic, I am magical, and my husband and I have provided tutors for Harry and Dudley, who was also born with the gift. I believe Vernon is a squib, too, but we haven’t been able to verify that. Anyway, they’re at the age right now to start potions tutoring, and I was wondering if you would like to teach them a couple days a week. We have an extensive lab in our cellar for your use, as well as access to any ingredient for which you might have need. This year, Harry offered to allow us to use his vaults to pay for anything he might need in the way of magical education. Everything has been arranged through Gringotts, and we’ll be able to pay you a good fee for your service, if you’re willing.
Sincerely,
Petunia Dursley
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July 16, 1986
Petunia Dursley
4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging
Surrey, England
Dear Petunia,
Thank you for letting me know how my godson is. I am glad that you’ve been able to keep him out of Albus’ clutches, and I’m happy to know that he’s thriving. I was named the child’s godfather in a secret ritual about six months after he was born. Black was promised the position by Dumbledore, but Lily and James were fully against it. They both knew that Black would bow to Albus’ wishes for the boy, and didn’t trust him to honor such an blessed commitment. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to take the child because of Dumbledore’s constant monitoring of my every move. I’d promised to be his spy in the Dark faction, you see, so as a known Death Eater, he would have made sure I was in Azkaban before I could assume my responsibilities to Harry.
I would consider it a privilege to teach Harry and your son potions. I knew what a dab hand Lily was at the craft, and I have no doubt that Harry would be able to follow in her footsteps. If you are as intelligent as my best friend was, I’m quite confident that your son will be very successful as well. Turning Albus over to the muggle police for inappropriate behavior absolutely made my day, and it also explains why he was missing until today. I’ve no doubt that he did quite a few memory charms on the muggles to get them to forget about him; the problem is that those memory charms actually damage the brains of non-magical people, so I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that some of them end up with terminal brain tumors sometime in the future.
I look forward to renewing our friendship, and I hope that I meet with your expectations of me.
Sincerely,
Severus Snape
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“Aunt Petunia?” the seven year old murmured as he came into the kitchen. Knowing that tone of voice, she turned and stared at Harry in bafflement.
“He’s back?” she asked incredulously. The raven haired child nodded morosely, his hands full of the potions ingredients he’d been outside collecting when he spied Albus Dumbledore standing in the exact same place he was two years prior. Severus was at the table, enjoying a spot of tea, and his ebon eyes narrowed angrily at the news.
“He must have followed me here,” the Potions Master grumbled, infuriated.
“No, I don’t think so,” Mrs. Dursley reassured absently. “I think he’s watching Harry again.”
“What the hell is wrong with him?” Severus barked out, incensed. “He has duties to the school and he’s shirking them for a single child.” Snape went quiet before dark eyes widened in astonishment. “No,” he whispered tremulously. “He wouldn’t.”
“Severus?” Petunia asked querulously. “What is it?”
“The partial prophecy I’d overheard,” Snape replied absently as his thoughts churned over the last six years. “I am ashamed to say that I was the one to overhear part of the foretelling, and I was the one to tell the Dark Lord. In my defense, I didn’t think it meant Lily, but in hindsight, I should have seen it coming. Albus was driven to see that prognostication become a reality, and my stupidity set things in motion. I was able to speak to Trelawney in private after Lily’s death, and she told me that the prophecy was a fake. That she had pretended so that she could have a safe place to live. Because Albus and the Dark Lord set so much stock in it, they made it real.”
“What does that have to do with Harry?” Petunia queried.
“The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies....*"
Severus quoted the fatal paragraph from memory, eyes closed in mortification at the implications of what he'd done, based on a made up prediction. “Albus believes Harry to be the prophecy child because he survived the attack that night. Both you and I know that Lily had enacted a Dark ritual to protect her son, so it wasn’t anything that the child had done, nor was it any sort of special power that he possessed.” Severus looked at the seven year old sadly, who had taken the seat opposite the Potions Master after he told his aunt about Dumbledore. “I am sorry that, through my own actions, I cost you your parents. I am sorry that I’m partially responsible for setting that man on your tail. I’m sorry that…”
“You don’t need to apologize, uncle Sev,” Harry told the man softly. “You’ve been doing everything you can to protect me from him; it’s not your fault that I was chosen. It’s not your fault that my parents were killed. It’s not your fault that he’s obsessed with that stupid vision and the Dark Lord.” Severus had told Harry not to use Voldemort’s dreaded name the first time he’d spoken it, saying that every time someone said it, his Mark would ache in reaction. The Dark Lord had put a taboo on his name, so that he could locate anyone who spoke it and eliminate them or recruit them, whichever the case may have been. Because of the taboo, the magic in the Mark caused the bearer severe pain whenever anyone said ‘Voldemort’. Albus’ sadistic tendencies were exercised every time he spoke to Severus, as he gleefully used the name, knowing it caused his spy agony.
Petunia picked up the phone handset and dialed nine-nine-nine again.
“Nine-nine-nine, what’s your emergency?” said the bored operator.
“This is Petunia Dursley and that old man is back again, watching my nephew. Send a car out right away to arrest him.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“He’s back,” the eight year old Potter heir growled. Severus’ eyes widened at the news; Minerva and he had spoken to Dumbledore many times over the last year, trying to get him to understand that if he continued to stalk the child, he would end up imprisoned. The old man scoffed and arrogantly replied that mere muggles couldn’t do anything to him; that he was greater than Merlin and the muggles would soon learn their place if they trifled with him. McGonagall had thrown her hands up in the air and told Albus in no uncertain terms that she’d washed her hands of him.
“Nine-nine-nine, what’s your emergency?” the operator queried. The Dursley address came up on her readout, and the past calls for the same issue were listed alongside the arresting officers’ names.
“Three guesses, and the first two don’t count,” Petunia snapped, having had more than enough of the old man. Albus was promptly arrested and tried for his predatory behavior, which netted him ninety days in jail and three years probation. He was also put on a sexual predator registry, which offended the old man enormously. He had wanted to memory charm the officials to get the charges dropped, but this time, his wand was taken by some squibs that were working in the police department in a more thorough pat-down. He had to serve his time, but once he was released and his wand given back to him, he returned to the Dursleys’ neighborhood and camped out in his usual spot.
“He’s back,” Harry snarled later that day. It was August tenth, 1989, and Harry’s ninth birthday had just passed. Heaving a resigned sigh, Petunia once again called the emergency number and had a car sent out. This time a medical van was sent and Dumbledore was loaded, kicking and screaming, into the back of it. Petunia and Severus watched with great amusement as he was strapped into a hug-me-jacket and taken away to the nearest mental facility. The entire time he was being transported there, he was ranting and raving about Harry Potter and how important he was to the safety and survival of the wizarding world. He screamed about the Dark Lord Voldemort, and how magic would be forever changed if he came back. How the man had performed the darkest magics known to wizardkind and that he would return from his temporary death if Albus wasn’t there to train the Savior of the wizarding world.
He was taken directly to a lockdown unit and incarcerated under a mandatory thirty day evaluation period. Once inside the unit, a squib nurse stripped the man naked and confiscated every magical artifact and wand secreted on the old man’s person, sending them to the Ministry of Magic for disposal. The medical staff tried talk therapy to help the headmaster through his delusions to no effect. They then moved on to chemical means to try and get Albus’ mental disorders under control. Thorazine and Haldol were prescribed with no appreciable success. Finally, the doctors felt that they had no choice but to submit Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore to electroconvulsive therapy in hopes that they could finally address his dementia.
Unfortunately, since he didn’t have a mental illness, and his magic relied on a clean current of energy from his core to his brain and body, the only thing the ECT did was destroy his magical core and render him a dribbling, drooling, mindless mess that rocked back and forth in a corner, effectively diminishing the magical energy that had kept him alive for nearly one hundred years. He became a permanent resident of the mental facility, and died three years later, the damage to his magical core and body catastrophic.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
July 31, 1992
The Daily Prophet
ALBUS DUMBLEDORE DIES IN MUGGLES’ CUSTODY
Incarcerated in muggle loony bin
Veronica Corningstone, reporter
It is this reporter’s sad duty to tell our faithful readers that Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore has died. He was born in 1881 in Mould-on-the-Wold, England and was two weeks shy of his one hundred eleventh birthday. In his lifetime, he had accomplished so much for the wizarding world; protecting it and the muggle world from Gellert Grindelwald, creating potions and elixirs that are still in use today, and becoming a prominent figure in wizarding politics of the UK. He was Transfiguration professor of Hogwarts from 1903 to 1925 before turning his attentions to the upheaval that Grindelwald had been causing. After his epic duel with the Dark Lord, he traveled and wrote for several magical periodicals before returning to Hogwarts to become its beloved headmaster in 1968. He is survived by his brother, Aberforth Dumbledore.
It was during his tenure as the ultimate authority of the school that he slowly began to change. He’d started clearing the library of many books geared toward all forms of magic, until nothing was left but texts supporting the magics and agenda of the Light. He’d eliminated a great many classes that would have seen very successful and strong wizards and witches graduating from that once-fine institution; fearful that another child would grow to be a Dark Lord or Dark Lady. He returned muggleborns and halfbloods raised in the muggle world to abusive homes where quite a few of them were beaten to death by their caretakers, which ended up costing our world many magicals who could have changed our lives for the better. Because of his well-meaning but wrongheaded interference in the school, Hogwarts fell to the bottom of the list of best magical schools to which to send our children.
A faked prophecy was made some time in 1979, which was spoken to Dumbledore during a job interview, and it was this prophecy that turned our once-revered elder statesman away from the proper running of the school. He decided that he had to focus his attentions on one single, solitary child; namely Harry James Potter, whose parents were killed October 31, 1981. The child had been hidden away after the deaths of James and Lily Potter, and no one knew his whereabouts, except for Albus Dumbledore. This reporter was able to get police records from the muggle world, which outlined numerous arrests for stalking, until he was incarcerated in Broadmoor Hospital, located in Crowthorn, Berkshire, England. According to reports, Dumbledore had loudly proclaimed for all and sundry that he was on an exalted mission to ensure that our Savior was safe and well-protected; that he was needed to vanquish Lord Voldemort; a Dark wizard set to destroy magical Great Britain.
He had been arrested for the same charge two other times before his final imprisonment in the asylum, the second seeing him face jail time and probation for predatory behavior toward a child. It was during the third arrest that he ranted and raved about the safety of our world, so naturally the muggles believed he was several cards shy of a full deck, and put him in Broadmoor for a thirty day mandatory psychiatric evaluation. The records in the hospital indicate that they had tried talk therapy as well as drugs called Thorazine and Haldol. According to research, these two medications are called anti-psychotics, and are used to calm the minds of people with violent and aberrant brain disorders. When those medications didn’t seem to make a dent in Dumbledore’s ‘delusions’, they turned to electroconvulsive therapy, hoping that this would disrupt his dementia. Unfortunately, the added electricity to his body destroyed his magical core, resulting in a loss of his magic. He lived three years before succumbing to his injuries.
Though stalking itself isn’t a crime, when that behavior concerns a child; in this case Harry Potter; police departments tend to err toward the safety of that child in their efforts to stop the predatory behavior. Because Potter’s aunt felt that Dumbledore was exhibiting disturbing behavior by standing out in full view of the neighbors and watching the child with uncomfortable intensity, and with his own words about his ‘obsession’ with the boy, the police felt the need to act quickly to prevent any criminal actions that could have irreparably damaged the child. Because he blatantly disregarded their warnings to leave the boy alone and continued to stake out the muggles’ home, his behaviors escalated the matter to criminal behavior; hence the arrest and incarceration. It may have only been three observed times that Albus was hovering around our Savior, but this reporter suspects that he’d spent far more time watching that poor boy unseen.
“Oh, Albus,” Minerva murmured, tears forming in her eyes. She’d taken up the mantle of headmistress when the old man had mysteriously disappeared. The Ministry had used all available resources to try and find him, but since he’d vanished in the muggle world, there was little that they could do. The last words he’d spoken to his oldest friend had been, “I must check on Harry, to make sure that he’s thriving the way that I want. I’ve noticed that he’s too happy; too well-adjusted, and I need to figure out how to make him a moldable weapon against Voldemort.”
“He’s just a child, Albus,” McGonagall had barked at him, infuriated that the man was only seeing what the orphan could do for the wizarding world. “I’m glad to hear that he’s happy; that his muggle relatives actually love him. Leave him be; you can wait until he gets to Hogwarts to properly train him.”
She stared at the article, thoughts churning. “I never believed that you were that focused on your end goal, but seeing everything you’ve done to the school, I can’t help but think that I never really knew you at all.”
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Using all of the information that Dumbledore had kept in his office, Severus Snape, Lucius Malfoy, Teodred Nott and Ehno Zabini set out to end the Dark Lord before he could rise again. They spent days seeking out the soul containers that Voldemort had hidden in many places, even going so far as having Narcissa pretend to be Bellatrix to retrieve Hufflepuff's cup. Once all of the objects were gathered together, and with the piece that had been in Harry eradicated, they cast a fiendfyre on the pile until nothing but slag was left. As the last anchor burned away, the men fell to their knees, gripping their arms and screaming at the pain as their Dark Marks were bled from their flesh. Once freed, the four men, as well as the rest of the Dark forces, went their separate ways to change the wizarding world in a more meaningful, sane way.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Severus was chosen by Hogwarts to be the new headmaster, and Minerva was returned to her post as transfiguration professor. Petunia Dursley was chosen to be deputy headmistress, which meant that both Dudley and Harry were finally safe at the school. She blended seamlessly into the castle, and Lady Hogwarts was thrumming happily along, aiding when needed and helping the headmaster make the school what it was meant to be from the beginning. The following year, Severus and Petunia married, with Petunia and Severus adopting Harry and Snape adopting Dudley. Vernon had passed quietly in his sleep when Harry was six and Dudley seven, leaving his wife and family quite well off with life insurance and pension benefits.
It seemed he had an undiagnosed brain aneurysm that had ruptured one night whilst the man was asleep. He had been complaining about severe headaches for a while, and had sometimes had bouts of nausea, but neither Petunia nor he saw anything life-threatening in it. His family had a history of migraines, so that was what he thought it was. He’d taken a very strong sleep aid the night he died, and never woke up when the vessel exploded. His death wasn’t reported until the next morning, when Petunia had tried to wake him up for work, and the autopsy discovered the cause rather quickly. In his will, he’d left everything he had to Petunia and the boys; stock certificates, shares in Grunnings, his parents’ properties and cars all went to his widow and the kids.
She liquidated everything after moving into the castle, putting the cash into her own Gringotts vault and leaving a will describing the disbursement of the funds upon her death. Life went on, as it was wont to do, and Albus Dumbledore’s name soon faded from the minds and hearts of the wizarding world. He was never mentioned again, especially after Rita Skeeter wrote her tell-all book about the old man and his affair with Grindelwald, as well as all of the plans and schemes he’d outlined; not only for Harry Potter, but for the rest of the world, both muggle and magical, which put the final nail in the coffin for Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore and his Greater Good.