The Spilling of Secrets
Albus Dumbledore had grown up learning secrecy at his mother’s knee and had proved to be an absolute natural at it. He found it much easier to keep information clutched to his chest and safer for those who were spared the dangers of what could happen when you knew too much. It was in the best interest of his sensitive plans to have as few people in the know as possible. Everything could blow up in a minute if crucial details reached the wrong ears.
However, it often complicated friendships to persistently keep them in the dark about so much that you were doing. Even the person that Albus was closest to had limits as to how much she was willing to overlook.
“If you were ever captured….if Voldemort and his Death Eaters ever suspected that you had such knowledge….”
“It’s getting late, Albus,” Minerva said pointedly, looking resignedly away from him with her chin resting in her hand. “There's no point in us continuing if you're just going to talk around in circles.”
“Of course,” Albus murmured sadly, taking in her tartan dressing gown and loose hair that hung limply down her back as he rose reluctantly to his feet.
Professor McGonagall certainly looked ready to retire for the night but Albus was not fooled. He knew perfectly well that she would habitually forgo sleep in exchange for time spent on her more leisurely pursuits. She wasn't tired in the physical sense as much as tired of his presence in her rooms. She had never dismissed him like this before. Obvious anger and impenetrable hurt feelings lingered beneath her icy exterior.
“I know perfectly well what He Who Must Not Be Named is capable of,” Minerva said coldly, still not looking at him. “What I don’t know is why you’re willing to risk involving three children in such things when my adult consenting self is where you draw the line.”
“Harry Potter is no ordinary child,” Albus said simply. “Unfortunately, his participation in what I have asked of him was never optional.”
Minerva made a distasteful sound reminiscent of an angry cat - such was her counterpart.
Albus sighed and looked around her cozy living room, which was quite blatant in its display of Gryffindor pride - with matching red armchairs, cherry wooden bookshelves, picture windows, and a burgundy rug tossed over the stone floor. There was even a vase on the mantle that held the Gryffindor flag that she always brought with her to Quidditch matches. Albus stared at it and couldn't bring himself to walk away, even though she was angry with him. He couldn't bear to be on bad terms with her when there was so little time for them left.
“Everything will make sense eventually,” he said quietly.
“Or perhaps it won’t,” Minerva sniffed, turning her head just to flash him the disapproving glare that she normally reserved for out of line students. “Only by then you’ll be dead and I won’t be able to give you the rough shake I’ve had to restrain myself from doling out these past few months.”
“I’ll forgive you if you lose yourself in an understandable moment of heat and slug me,” Albus said with a smile that was not reciprocated. “I know that none of this is easy....”
He had pushed her too far this time. He understood that. Ordering her to deliver three students to him that had been entrusted with so much more than herself had left Minerva feeling strained and increasingly bad tempered. The limits of time and their mutual awareness that his life was almost over made everything that much harder.
“You’ve always liked your secrets, Albus,” she sighed, and it might have just been a trick of the flickering candlelight, but Albus was certain that he saw something soften in her expression. “You gravitate there even when it isn’t necessary - as I would hope that I have proven myself trustworthy to you by now.”
“It’s not a lack of trust,” Albus insisted.
There was a sudden loud hiss of fanned flames in the fireplace, which alerted them both to the Floo being utilized. A welcome distraction - even if it did slightly alarm him to see Harry and Sirius tumbling onto the floor of Minerva’s office together.
“Is there a problem?” Albus asked concernedly, as the two of them got out of the way just in time for Ron and Hermione to appear behind them.
“Professor Dumbledore, I have to talk to you!” said Harry, scrambling to his feet and impatiently brushing soot from his clothes and glasses.
Minerva had risen from her chair as well and her lips thinned at the ashes they had scattered on her rug. Tightening the cord of her robe modestly, she followed at Albus’s heel back into her office and leaned against her desk with her ankles crossed to listen as the four people who had just burst unceremoniously out of her fireplace began to all speak at once.
“I think I know where one is,” said Harry loudly, coming to stand directly in front of him and Ron echoed sentiments of a similar nature. “It's in the Lestranges vault!”
“We didn’t want to wait to share this theory with you,” Sirius added.
“It really fits, Professor,” Hermione said breathlessly, and Albus turned his focus onto her. “I know it seems unbelievable - but it’s also so obvious - just like the last one - he never believed that anyone could be as intelligent as him!”
“I think we should continue this conversation in my study,” Albus told them quietly, keeping his voice calm despite his displeasure.
He was gathering from their enthused proclamations that much had happened in the short span of time since he'd left the manor. What with the arrival of Severus there to see Sirius about matters that Albus was quite sure had nothing to do with their relationship - the evidence suggested that Sirius had done the most to ignore his perfectly clear orders that nobody outside of themselves was to be engaged in the hunt for the Horcruxes.
“Is that so?” Minerva said bitterly, but before Albus could answer the fire crackled again and this time spat out Severus Snape.
Albus eyed him suspiciously which did not seem to unnerve Severus from calmly holding his gaze. He kept his hands concealed in the pockets of his robes as he walked silently over to stand next to Minerva in front of her desk - the two of them united in their displacement amongst this most urgent group.
“Do you know what this is all about?” Minerva asked Severus.
“Barely,” he replied, meeting Albus’s gaze with his dark glittering eyes. “Professor, before you ask, I provided these four with their - for lack of a better word - lead tonight through my connections in the Dark Lord’s inner circle.”
“You never should have involved yourself in this, Severus,” Albus said in a pained voice. ““You aren’t supposed to be responsible for everything - it’s too risky.”
“Well, he’s in a rather unique position to be helpful in every capacity,” Sirius spoke up argumentatively, “so maybe we should take advantage of that.”
He gave Severus a look that immediately brought Albus back to Sirius’s student days. Sirius and James had both often worn expressions exactly like that when they were trying to help each other talk their way out of punishment from an exasperated teacher. Albus might have been amused at how the two men truly had come to recognize each other for what they are - as he had ordered - but he was too preoccupied with the precariousness of their current situation to revel in this triumph very well.
“Not another word until we reach my office,” Albus said firmly, addressing Sirius. “I took you into my confidence out of respect for your right to support Harry in what he has to do but I have my reasons -"
“Come on, Dumbledore,” Sirius said impatiently. “You might be cleverer than the rest of us, but that doesn't mean that you're always right - you aren’t God, even if everyone likes to think that you are. If you sincerely believe that either Severus or Minerva would be anything but discreet assets to us then you have to search yourself to find out what’s really scaring you.”
“Despite my warnings about how classified this information had to be, you still took it upon yourself to go involve Voldemort’s right hand man in this behind my back,” Albus retorted sadly. “One minor slip of Severus's concentration could alert Voldemort to what we are doing and ruin everything.”
Nobody said anything for a moment but Sirius appeared unashamed and defiant. Hermione had stepped back nervously from the half-moon that she, Ron, and Harry had formed around him. Even Minerva seemed to have decided against continuing to lambast him with her many grievances - she was staring at the Quidditch house cup, which she displayed proudly on a prominent shelf behind her desk so that everyone who visited her office couldn’t help but admire it.
“It’s not -” Harry started to say, but Severus cut him off.
“That sounds like you have reservations about my capabilities as an Occlumens, Headmaster,” Severus remarked softly.
“That’s not what this is about at all, Severus,” Albus sighed. “You are an incredibly skilled wizard but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re consistently spending time in the company of Lord Voldemort himself and nobody is above making a mistake - not even you.”
“Yes, my skills are at your service and I put myself in mortal danger on your orders every single day,” Severus replied, “but I’m not to be trusted with information that you’re comfortable sharing with three teenagers?”
“And I just want to help you, Albus,” Minerva said imploringly. “Why won’t you let me help? I’d die before I ever betrayed you.”
“I know that,” Albus said sadly, feeling ganged up on in a way that he was quite unaccustomed to.
Most people just did what he asked of them, but Sirius Black had never conditioned himself to obey his orders so blindly. Knowing how he had failed the man in the past, Albus could hardly blame him for his skepticism, but he did consider it to be rather inconvenient - especially now that it seemed to have rubbed off on Severus and Minerva.
“I respect your concerns, Headmaster,” Severus told him, “but if I may, you might consider that allowing me to assist could speed up the process significantly. None of you could possibly know him the way that I do.”
“That’s true,” Minerva agreed.
Albus shook his head. It seemed that he no longer had any choice in the matter - having already tested the patience of two people that he loved. Both Minerva and Severus seemed to be waiting for him to give them directives about whether they could stay or not. They’d listen to whatever he decided, even if they didn’t like it, but it just wasn’t worth the fight anymore.
“Very well,” he said wearily, flicking his wand so that overstuffed armchairs in his favourite shade of purple suddenly appeared invitingly on the magically expanded floor for them all to sit down. He himself sank into the one nearest the fireplace and felt every bit the tired and dying old man that he was as he did.
“Tell me why you believe something is hidden inside the Lestranges’ vault,” he said resignedly, motioning with his hand at Harry and Severus, who had taken the two chairs directly across from him.
As Minerva sat down beside him, Albus glanced at her and was graced with a small smile. He knew that she understood that he was working against his own nature here. That he had very good reasons to prefer operating in secrecy but was forcing himself to abandon that tactic now to let all of them in. And as he listed to Severus reiterate what he had seen in Narcissa Malfoy’s mind when they’d discussed her sister and significant objects she might be holding for Voldemort, Albus had to admit that there was a very good chance that they were correct in this theory.
“You think I’m right?” Harry smiled, once Albus had finished telling him that he thought his theory a good one.
“Well, there is only one way to find out,” Albus replied, “let me see what I can do - I am quite sure that getting in and out of Gringotts undetected will be quite easy for me. I’ll go there on Monday - and then Thursday or Friday you and I will go get the other one.”
“The other one?” Minerva repeated. “Exactly how many things are you looking for?”
“Just two more,” Albus replied, “and then there will be the matter of Lord Voldemort’s snake.”
“Nagini?” Severus looked astonished.
“Yes, she must be killed,” Albus said simply. “Voldemort cannot be defeated until we kill the snake and destroy these two objects.”
“I might be able to kill her,” Severus said, still looking confused, “she is so often around.”
“Don’t do anything that would compromise your position,” Albus cautioned him. “I am counting on you to stay in Lord Voldemort’s good graces for as long as possible.”
“Yes,” Severus nodded obediently.
There seemed to be nothing else to really say after that. For all Albus’s reluctance to discuss anything, it had been quite a simple conversation once it had begun. Now he had two more people close enough to the truth about Voldemort’s immortality to make an impact and he had to hope that that would prove to be an advantage.
A few minutes later, everyone departed feeling reasonably satisfied and Albus felt something akin to relief swell up inside him when he found himself alone with Minerva again.
“I knew you were juggling knives in the air, Albus, but I didn't realize to what extent,” she said somewhat shakily.
‘You weren't supposed to know,” he reminded her quietly.
If Severus and Minerva's involvement going forward helped the way that the others seemed to think that it would, then Albus would willingly admit to being wrong. However, his own tendencies kept him from relaxing into that decision in the least. He kept seeing horrific images that inspired his greatest fears and which he’d worked so diligently to avoid - of Voldemort kidnapping Minerva to interrogate about Horcruxes or else seeing past Severus’s defences to realize the truth and thwart them before they could achieve their goal.
“But I’m glad that I know now,” Minerva replied, crossing her legs and angling herself in the purple armchair towards him. “Everything you force yourself to hold in - I just think that must get terribly lonely.”
If truer words were ever spoken then Albus didn’t think he’d believe it. For this had to be only the second time in his life that he felt completely understood by another person. Because it was lonely, terribly lonely, to be possessed with more intelligence than all your peers combined. It was very lonely up at the top and he had carried that burden by himself for almost the entirety of his long life.
The one and only time that Albus had met someone like himself, it had shown him how temptingly dark people like him could easily become. Absolute power corrupted. If Albus had followed through with their dreams of ruling the world, there would have been nobody able to stop them.
“I was talking with Harry earlier this evening and I came very close to the subject of Gellert Grindelwald,” admitted Albus.
He felt Minerva slip her bony hand underneath his and he squeezed it tightly, grateful for her presence and that they were amicable again - even if he still wasn’t sure he had done the right thing in allowing them to sway his judgements. But Minerva was the only person he had ever confided in about Gellert before - compelled to one night, many years ago, when he’d discovered Minerva crying alone in her classroom after learning that her former fiance and great love had married someone else.
“I fell in love with evil personified,” Albus said numbly. “I fell in love with someone who thought just like me but wasn't much better than Voldemort in the end. What does that say about me?’
“You fell in love with someone as brilliant as you are,” Minerva gently corrected him. “You’d found someone you matched with, someone you could relate to, someone who understood what it was like to be you.”
“We talked about everything,” Albus said distastefully. “Planning our path to power and telling ourselves continually that any suffering would all be for the greater good that we were going to create.”
“Where you differed in the end was how you chose to use that power,” Minerva replied. “You've devoted your life to fighting the Dark Arts, you defeated Grindelwald in the end as much as I know it destroyed you to do so, and you're spending the end of your life trying to stop He Who Must Not Be Named from destroying our world. You're a good man, Albus.”
“Who never really gave up on the greater good,” Albus admitted quietly, looking down at his burned and blackened hand to avoid her inquisitive stare. “Do you still have Harry’s letter?”
“Yes, of course,” Minerva said.
He sighed. “Please don’t think too badly of me when you learn what it says….if there was any other way….”
“Then you would have found it surely,” Minerva finished for him, squeezing his hand back as she settled more deeply in the armchair with her head against the soft pillow. “I know, Albus.”
"And please support Severus once I'm gone," he added sadly. "The poor man is going to need it...what I've asked him to do.
"Of course, Albus," she replied faithfully. "I'll always stand by him."
“Thank you,” he said softly, for her support and faith had always meant everything to him. She provided the safest place to rest, and always had. His loneliness slightly dissipated in the consolation that she understood even when she wasn’t being told everything.
“Are we sleeping out here?” Minerva asked with a lilt in her voice a few minutes later when neither of them had moved or said anything. She had tucked her legs up underneath her with his good hand still resting in hers.
“If you don't mind,” Albus replied, his eyes already closed. He couldn’t bear to leave her right now. Her hand in his was all that was keeping him calm currently.
“You know I don't,” said Minerva, which made Albus smile.
He squeezed her hand more tightly and felt like he was hanging on for dear life. Minerva was his anchor and his friend. She'd be his hardest goodbye and most compassionate apologist once the full truth of his plan was revealed - the parts he'd take to the grave were it not for the exception of the letter written to Harry that she held in her keep. The secret that couldn't be spilled - not yet anyway.