Before He Was Great

Author's Notes: Thanks to my reviewers from the last chapter! I'm glad you liked it. Now that you've caught a glimpse of Percy's true personality, it's time to see what his father's training has done to him. I'll warn you... he's not that likeable right now. In fact, he's far from the Dumbledore we know from canon. But don't worry.

Before He Was Great

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Chapter Two: The Wandmaker

"Disraeli is not pleased with the magical community at the moment," stated Lord Dumbledore at breakfast one morning, putting down his Daily Prophet with a small frown. Percy glimpsed at it. Under the header and the date - 21 July 1868 - there was an enormous bold headline: WIZARDING RIOT INTERRUPTS MUGGLE QUEEN'S PROCESSION. "I told him it was the blasted liberals protesting again."

"There's nothing the Muggle Prime Minister can do to you, Father," said Percy, calmly cutting a sausage into pieces.

His father sighed. "He can still make life difficult for us." He ran a hand through his hair. "Anyway," he continued briskly, "those liberals have got to go. They're stirring up too much trouble. And their ideas are absolutely ridiculous. Especially that fool Weasley's." He glanced at Percy. "I should warn you - William Weasley has a son your age. Under no circumstances are you to associate with him at school, apart from polite greetings and such, as befits a Minister of Magic's son."

Percy smiled thinly. "Do you trust me so little, Father?" he asked, now moving slowly to fill his glass.

Dumbledore chuckled. "I shouldn't have bothered to say," he said affectionately. Aberforth glared at Percy over the table. The two brothers often vied for their father's favor, and clearly, Percy was victorious this time. "You have come a long way, Percy. I am proud."

Percy tried very hard to hide the smugness in his expression. He busied himself with buttering his bread.

"Just yesterday, Lady Black praised him on his gentlemanly ways," added Lady Dumbledore, a look of approval on her serene face. "Didn't she, Percy?"

"Yes, Mother. But it wasn't very important," replied Percy demurely, though inside, he was nearly jumping in delight. His mother had noticed! And she was pleased, too.

"Not very important?" repeated Dumbledore, beaming. "No need to be humble, Percy! Why, your mother is entirely correct - society cannot approve of you more, my boy."

"Lady Black praised me too," said Aberforth, looking sullen.

"You have quite a lot to learn from your brother, Aberforth," said their father grimly. "A lot."

Percy smirked. Aberforth sent him a withering glare, then attacked his breakfast with vigor. Percy did not mind, for he had the approval of his father. Two years before, he had never dreamed of such a thing happening, yet here he was, basking in his father's good graces and smirking at Aberforth, who had been relegated to the status of "excess younger brother." At times, Percy would weaken and miss his days spent in the library, but then he would berate himself for being stupid: he was glad he had given up his abnormal nature in favor of behaving more like a respectable heir of a great family.

"Margaret," Aberforth gritted. Their sister looked up. She was growing prettier by the day, and Dumbledore was sure she'd marry well in the future. "Can you pass the salt?"

Margaret blinked. "But Aberforth, Percy's right near--"

"I don't want it from Percy!" shrieked the youngest Dumbledore, beginning one of his frequent temper tantrums.

"What is the matter with you?" Dumbledore was scowling. "Desist at once!"

"It's not fair!" continued Aberforth, pale face slowly reddening. "You're always heaping praise on Percy, saying that he's so great, when just a couple of years ago, everyone was calling him strange!"

"Perhaps," said Dumbledore, "it is because you are an irksome, jealous child. Go back to your room. I want you to think about acting more maturely and supportive of your family."

Aberforth burst into tears and stormed away. They could hear him stomping up the stairs. There was a squeak as he presumably trampled on a house-elf, a deafening noise as he slammed the door, and then silence.

Several owls swooped down outside of the dining room window and waited. Margaret stood and carefully opened it in order to not let in the smell from outside enter, letting them in. Three of the owls immediately flew to Dumbledore, but the last dropped two letters on the table. One landed near Margaret's plate, the other in front of Percy. "They're from Hogwarts," said Margaret, opening hers at once.

Percy stared at the wax seal on the back of the envelope, with its lion, snake, badger, and eagle, then opened the envelope slowly, hands shaking slightly. He had wanted to go to Hogwarts for as long as he could remember, and here was his letter at long last...

Quickly, he unfolded the parchment and began to read.

Dear Mr. Dumbledore,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Attached, you will find a list of required materials for the start of the term. Please be reminded that first year students are not allowed their own broomsticks. Term begins on the first of September.

We await your response by owl.

Sincerely,

Professor Peter Willikins

Deputy Headmaster

Percy glanced at the sheet of parchment below the letter, then looked back up. "I suppose I could take Percy and Margaret to Diagon Alley today," said Dumbledore.

"Please, Father, will you?" asked Percy enthusiastically, not bothering to try and hide his excitement.

His father laughed. "I shall get Periwinkle to get the carriage ready," he assured his son.

An hour later, Percy had dressed up in his best Muggle clothes - they were going to be out among Muggles, after all - and was ready to go. "If only there was a faster way to travel, besides Apparition and portkeys," said Margaret.

"Maybe through the fireplaces," suggested Percy, who was absolutely giddy with happiness.

"Don't be silly," replied his sister, as they boarded the carriage. Percy smiled and waved at the surly-looking driver in the front. The driver just scowled, but the rejection didn't bother Percy one bit.

They reached the entrance to Diagon Alley about half an hour later. Percy had been there before, but never to purchase his things for Hogwarts. He walked through the familiar pub that had been the gateway between the Muggle and wizarding world for hundreds of years as if in a daze.

As soon as they had emerged into the sunlit streets of Diagon Alley, Dumbledore was hailed by a man Percy did not know. "Ah, Minister!" said the man. "How are you today?"

"I am fine, thank you, Prewett," said Dumbledore politely. "And you?"

"Never better." Prewett smiled at the children. "Well, must be off. I will see you later, Minister." He strode off.

"A liberal," commented Dumbledore airily, and Percy's lips immediately twitched into a sneer. "Best not associate with them too much, or you'll sully your reputation. Come. We can stop to get you two fitted for robes first."

The seamstresses at Twilfitt and Tatting's were absolutely delighted to serve the Minister and his children. Mrs. Twilfitt herself measured Percy, while Mrs. Tatting helped Margaret. About halfway through, Orion Black appeared in the shop with his father and his cousin, Phineas Nigellus. Orion had a shiny prefect's badge pinned to his robes and seemed quite eager to show it off to Margaret, who offered him a smile in return.

"Oh, is your brother starting this year?" asked Orion, glancing at Percy with interest. Two years before, he would have been trying his hardest to get away from him, but they were now friendly with one another. "If you need anything this year, Percy, let me know. I'm sure I'll be your prefect."

Both Orion and Margaret were in Slytherin. Lord Dumbledore had been in Slytherin as well, and he expected Percy to be placed there, as there was nowhere else he could find the connections he would need in the future. Percy nodded and thanked the older boy.

"I hear you were looking for a Ministry post, Mr. Black," said Dumbledore, to Phineas Nigellus. "We do need young men such as yourself. Perhaps you would like to meet one day to discuss your prospects?"

"Thank you, sir. I would like that very much," said Phineas Nigellus, smiling slightly. "My father will be very pleased."

"Will you be pleased, Mr. Black?" asked Dumbledore shrewdly.

The smile disappeared. "Well, to tell the truth, Lord Dumbledore, I would like to work at Hogwarts one day..."

"Oh, don't be silly, Phineas," snapped his uncle.

"No, no, that's a perfectly respectable job," said Dumbledore. "It's quite a position of power, headmaster of the school. I shall tell you what: you come work at the Ministry for a while, Mr. Black, and I will see what can be done to help you get where you want."

Phineas Nigellus grinned. "Thank you, sir," he said, much more excitedly.

"All done, Mr. Dumbledore," said Mrs. Twilfitt to Percy. "Your robes ought to be ready in about an hour." At the same time, Margaret had stepped down from her own stool and was now smiling bashfully at Orion, who was no better.

"Well, must be going," said Dumbledore. "Lots of places to go. I will see you later, Scorpio. Mr. Black. Orion." He bowed and led his children back out into the hustle and bustle.

They stopped at the apothecary next. Percy wrinkled his nose at the smell; all his family's potions came ready-made. He was glad when they left to go buy a cauldron for him. After getting the cauldron, Percy had to be dragged away from a moving model of the universe in the astronomy shop.

Dumbledore stopped often, usually to exchange greetings with other Ministry workers. Some of them he was genuinely happy to see, others he would sneer at after they walked away. Finally, there were only the books and Percy's wand left to buy, so Dumbledore gave his son a bag of gold, as they were short on time, and told him to go get a wand at Ollivander's while he and Margaret bought the books.

Ollivander's was an unimpressive little building in a dark corner of Diagon Alley. The windows were dusty, and a single wand lay on a pillow behind them. A small bell overhead tinkled when Percy entered the shop, which seemed to be empty. There was a counter, behind which there were a great number of tall, dusty shelves. Percy sat on a rickety old chair tentatively and waited.

An old man suddenly appeared from behind one of the shelves. He had very light eyes that were almost scary, and white hair. Percy wondered how old he was. He looked old enough to have sold Percy's grandfather his wand. "Ah. Albus Dumbledore," Mr. Ollivander said quietly. "I sold your sister her wand just two years ago, so I knew you would be coming along soon enough."

"Yes, sir," stammered Percy, standing. He felt nervous around this man.

"Yes," whispered Ollivander. He dove behind the counter and put a box on the counter in front of him. "Ollivander wand cores are made with only three materials: phoenix feather, unicorn hair, and dragon heartstring," he explained. Then he removed the wand from the box and offered it to Percy. "Oak, dragon heartstring, eleven inches."

Percy took the wand, feeling slightly foolish, and gave it an experimental wave. Several boxes tumbled down from their shelves behind Ollivander. He put the wand down gingerly, wincing.

"Not to worry, not to worry," said Ollivander, who already had another box out. "Try this one. Maple, unicorn hair, twelve inches."

This time, a vase shattered. The minutes ticked past, and box upon box piled up on top of the counter. Percy was getting really nervous now. Why couldn't he find a wand that fit him? Ollivander dug around in the back of the shop for a while, then returned with a box that was somehow even dustier than the ones that had come before it. "An old wand," said Ollivander, almost to himself. "Cherry, phoenix feather, eleven and three-quarters inches."

Percy steeled himself and took the wand. All of a sudden, he felt a warmth in his fingers. The wandmaker had a triumphant expression on his wizened face. "Yes, of course. I was expecting it," he said.

"Expecting it, sir?" asked Percy, puzzled.

Ollivander's eyes met his. "I will expect great things from you, Albus Dumbledore. There are not many students who come in my shop who match a wand as powerful as the one you now hold. And I remember every wand I have ever sold, Mr. Dumbledore."

"I'm not great," blurted out Percy, unable to stop himself. "I-I have to try really hard to please Father..."

"Not great?" repeated Ollivander. "I must disagree." His tone became business-like. "That will be five galleons, please."

Percy quickly handed over the money and left the shop. He nearly crashed into his sister in his haste to get out. "What took you so long?" she asked. "Father and I came by three times, but you were still in there."

"Trouble finding a wand," mumbled Percy.

"Excuse me," said a small voice behind him. The Dumbledores turned. A small girl with a pale, heart-shaped face and dark hair stood alone, holding several parcels. "Is this the wand shop?"

Margaret and Percy stared. Everyone knew that Ollivander's was the wand shop. Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, this is Ollivander's."

"Thank you, sir," said the girl, and she went inside.

Dumbledore's lip curled. "Mudblood," he hissed in Percy's ear. "Even worse than associating with a Weasley or Prewett or Bones child would be associating with Muggle-borns. You should never even talk to one."

Percy stared at the small girl in the shop, just visible behind the thick film of dust. So that was what a Mudblood looked like. Funny, he'd thought they'd look, well, different. He quickly quashed that ridiculous thought. Just because they looked like everyone else didn't mean they were like everyone else. He nodded, a sneer blossoming automatically on his face.