Rating:
PG
House:
The Dark Arts
Characters:
Albus Dumbledore Rubeus Hagrid
Genres:
Drama
Era:
Multiple Eras
Spoilers:
Chamber of Secrets
Stats:
Published: 10/28/2003
Updated: 10/28/2003
Words: 2,218
Chapters: 1
Hits: 278

Damage Control

athenaprime

Story Summary:
In a conversation taking place shortly after the events described in Tom Riddle's diary, Albus Dumbledore, Transfigurations professor, learns that a headmaster must put the school first, but at what cost? Dumbledore must convince Headmaster Dippet to save a student from an undeserved fate while preserving the reputation of the school.

Posted:
10/28/2003
Hits:
278
Author's Note:
Please enjoy this vignette from Albus Dumbledore's point of view.


Albus Dumbledore stood in front of the entrance to the headmaster's office and spoke. "Panzer Dragoon." He shook his head and muttered as the password caused the staircase to spiral upward. He stepped on a tread and mourned Armando Dippet's unfortunate fascination with the Muggle war going on around them. It made Albus' other work exceedingly difficult to remain discreet.

The staircase completed its ascent. Albus knocked at the heavy wooden door. "Headmaster Dippet?" he called, even though he knew very well that the ornate, heavy-tusked brass boar that served as a doorknocker had already seen and announced him to the room inside. He felt it was a courtesy nonetheless.

The door swung open. Professor Dippet stood on the other side. "Albus, do come in," he said, stepping back to allow the auburn-haired wizard to enter. "I do envy you your hair," the headmaster said, rubbing his head, sparsely covered in wispy white strands. "I barely made it to fifty before turning white and going spare."

Albus patted his locks. "Ah, even the greatest among us is still subject to the vagaries of breeding." It was a conversation they'd had often, yet now it seemed even more significant, given the recent events involving the Chamber. It was breeding that singled out poor young Myrtle for death, at the hands of Salazar Slytherin's monstrous legacy to the school. And it was this, which brought him to the headmaster's office.

"Armando," he said, settling himself in one of the cozy chairs in front of the fire.

"What really brings you here, Albus? I know it isn't just to gloat over the presence of your hair and the absence of mine." Dippet smiled briefly as he waved his wand and the tea trolley rolled over to the fire. As the pot began to pour, the headmaster settled himself into the chair.

"It's about young Rubeus Hagrid." Albus knew he must choose his words carefully.

"It's unfortunate," Dippet said, "But Riddle caught him red-handed with the monster."

"He's only a boy," Albus protested.

Dippet nodded. "Unfortunately, the jury won't see that in a murder trial. Relations with the Muggle world are tenuous as it is--the fact that one of their own was murdered while in our care will not reflect well on our reputation."

"To hell with our reputation!" Albus said.

"The matter is delicate," Dippet's voice hardened. "You and I both know that the Acromantula wasn't the first dangerous creature to run loose in these halls due to Hagrid's er--hobbies."

Albus helped himself to the tea. He fixed it the old-fashioned way to allow himself some time to collect his thoughts. "Headmaster," he said carefully, "you and I both also know that it wasn't Hagrid that opened the Chamber."

Dippet stared into the fire. "The Chamber holds a monster. A monster killed Myrtle Cartwright. Rubeus Hagrid was discovered harboring a monster. The chain of events is complete."

"Save for the fact that Hagrid harbored the wrong monster," Albus said calmly. "Do think for a moment, Armando. Hagrid's parentage is becoming more obvious as the boy grows. Do you honestly believe a jury will give him a fair trial, should it come to that?"

Dippet sighed heavily. He, too, made a cup of tea without magic, and stared into the fire for a long few moments, a brooding frown on his round face. "In spite of your hair," he said finally, "we're both old men, and well-versed in the way of the world. Any jury assembled will immediately discern Hagrid's giant heritage. His youth won't matter."

"And neither will the smaller details of the situation," Albus said. "Which is why we must continue the investigation."

"Out of the question," Dippet said firmly.

"How long do you think it will take for people to start questioning things? Once Hagrid's been put away and the furor has died down, people will start wondering why, if an acromantula killed a girl, it didn't devour her body. Acromantulas kill for food--anyone who's studied enough magical beasts knows that. And by the time those questions are asked, it will be too late for an innocent boy whose only crime is having a big enough heart to care for creatures the rest of us find abhorrent."

Dippet reached into the pocket of the chair next to him and brought out a cut-crystal bottle. The amber liquid inside caught the light from the flames and set the light itself afire. He unstoppered the bottle and poured a measure into his teacup. He then held out the bottle to Albus.

Albus put up a hand. "Armando, you know this isn't the place--"

"Don't be ridiculous, Albus. Merlin knows, it's certainly the time." He levitated the bottle to Albus and tipped it, pouring a stream of the liquid into his tea. The tea smoked briefly, and dull red light came from the cup before fading away as the firewhiskey mixed with the tea. "This is where I give you yet another lesson about the differences between a teacher and a headmaster. We must protect the school. Drink up," he commanded.

Albus tipped the cup to his lips. The firewhiskey was not unfamiliar to his palate, but it wasn't an everyday indulgence for him. It warmed his belly, but failed to soothe the burn of injustice in the situation.

Dippet continued. "Hogwarts is and always has been the safest place in the wizarding world. If people can't trust their children in our care, the wizarding world will crumble at the foundations. So many here are present because of the Blitz anyway that the slightest doubts in our ability to protect the students could very well result in more of them being lost by being elsewhere--somewhere unprotected from Muggle bombings."

Albus sighed himself, staring into the same fire as Armando Dippet and wondering why they saw the same thing so differently. "But our ability to protect a single student is just as important as our ability to protect them all. Once we begin sacrificing one or two here and there to protect the whole, we begin a downward slide on a very slippery slope indeed. Which one or two do we sacrifice? How many losses are acceptable? How do we choose between a pureblood, a half-blood, and a Muggle-born? Shall we end like Beauxbatons or Durmstrang, with a quarter of our potential students abandoned to Muggle concentration camps or conscripted into that mad Muggle's nightmare of an army in exchange for a few more years of existence? And let us not forget Grindelwald's efforts. Do you really believe we can afford to lose even one soul in the battle against that dark wizard?"

Dippet's moon face creased into a frustrated frown. "Then what do you suggest I do? A considerable portion of the safety of Hogwarts rests on the perception of its safety. Undermine that perception, and Hogwarts loses its protection. So tell me, Albus. What clever plan do you have to maintain the reputation of Hogwarts and ensure justice for all? Because surely you wouldn't be haunting my office at this time of night without a purpose."

Albus nodded. "Quite right you are, Headmaster. I do, in fact, have a plan. It is not one about which I am wholeheartedly enthused, but if I cannot convince you to reopen the investigation into the Chamber itself..." he paused, on the off chance that Dippet would have reconsidered.

His hopes dashed. "No," Dippet said. "You cannot. Every headmaster in recent history has made an attempt to locate the Chamber, and every single one has failed. The heir of Slytherin remains anonymous."

"Not entirely," Albus said, thinking of the intense young Slytherin prefect brooding about during Myrtle's death. Half blood he might be, but young Riddle redefined the word ambition, even for a Slytherin. Even the most prejudiced of the Slytherins gave grudging respect to the intense boy. Riddle had great potential, and great potential for destruction, as all powerful things did. Witness what the Muggle scientists in America were doing. But he dared not speak up without absolute proof, else he was no better an authority figure than Dippet.

"Nevertheless, the Chamber remains shrouded in secrecy to us, Slytherin's Heir or no."

Albus' thoughts turned away from Riddle for the moment. "Then if you won't reopen the investigation, I must attempt to at least convince you to avoid a public trial for Hagrid. We must not confirm his guilt."

"Confirming his guilt will assure the public that Hogwarts remains a safe place."

"And when it is discovered that Hagrid's monster isn't the monster in the Chamber? For it will be discovered. Hogwarts' perception of safety will become irrelevant in the face of questions about its integrity."

"How do we avoid the trial? We must offer the public something to explain that girl's death." Dippet flung a hand out in agitation.

"In certain situations, Aurors are permitted to determine judgement at a crime scene. A young Auror named Fudge recently joined the Ministry. He's already displayed awareness of the need for discretion." Young Fudge had very nearly disrupted his cover in the fight against Grindelwald. Fudge owed him a favor--it had been Albus who kept the Unspeakables from memory-charming the lad into complete oblivion. Instead, he himself drew the boy into just enough confidence to sate his curiosity. If he could convince the head Unspeakable, Trismegistus, that Fudge would be more useful with his memory intact, then he could convince Armando Dippet to keep a thirteen year-old half-giant out of Azkaban prison. And Fudge would, indeed, prove useful. "I regret that Hagrid would have to be expelled."

Dippet nodded. "He would have been regardless. Acromantulas aren't legal to own in Britain."

Albus remembered his brief conversation with Aragog. In his view, considering the Acromantula a pet to be owned was one of the Ministry's less than brilliant moves, especially as they hadn't asked any Acromantulas how they felt about being considered pets. "Fudge will render the judgement and punishment. We can count on him to keep it quiet."

Dippet paused in mid-sip of his tea. "We don't need absolute silence. There must be some sort of public judgement."

"And there will be. But I see no reason to belabor it by letting the newspapers have the run of it."

Dippet nodded. "I see the value in what you say. The less said about this whole sad affair, the better."

"Quite so. And to further keep matters out of the public eye, we should also keep Hagrid out of it as well. You must understand that his presence anywhere besides Hogwarts will raise questions..." he trailed off, hoping Dippet would make the connection and agree with him.

Dippet shot him a glance out of the corner of his eye. "And what, do you propose we do with the boy? Hide him in the forbidden forest until this blows over?"

"It wouldn't be the first time," Dumbledore said mildly.

Dippet's eyebrows climbed up his forehead. "Exactly what version of 'Hogwarts: A History' do you own, Albus?"

Dumbledore raised his own eyebrows. "Why the approved 636th, of course. Wouldn't want to be accused of being out of date."

"And what other versions have you read? Not by any chance the 584th version, second printing, in which an entire section of classified, privileged information escaped the headmaster's notice during editing?"

Albus kept his expression completely guileless. "I'd heard that no copies of that edition and printing currently exist."

"And I know full well that you are in possession of a time turner. But back to young Rubeus. Are you seriously suggesting that we hide the boy in the forest?"

"Not quite. Ogg won't be around forever, you know."

"The groundskeeper?"

Albus nodded. "Ogg could use a hand."

Dippet paused to consider this. Albus pressed on. "We don't want the boy wandering around on his own. He's so young. And he won't simply fade into the Muggle world, either. Hagrid doesn't fade well."

Dippet remained silent. "You're correct, of course. But he won't fade into the woodwork at Hogwarts, either."

Albus dismissed his misgivings with a wave of his hand. Unfortunately, it was the hand that held his teacup and the dregs sloshed out, leaving drops on the carpet that steamed and smoked. "Hagrid will be under Ogg's guidance. He'll of course, have to remain out of the castle for the seven years it takes for his former classmates to leave the school."

Dippet looked doubtful, but did not raise an argument. Albus pressed further. "Come, Armando. The boy hasn't got a future outside these walls. Expulsion from Hogwarts means he's forbidden to practice magic. He'll never fit into the Muggle world with his heritage. The only place left for him is with the giants, assuming they'd take him. Or with those who would seek to bring the Ministry and Hogwarts down. I'd much rather keep the boy on our side, wouldn't you?"

Dippet sighed. "Very well, Albus. You've made your case and won. Bring in your Auror and let's get this business forgotten."

Albus smiled. It was a brief, humorless smile. "I haven't won, Armando. I failed to save an innocent student from an undeserved fate and failed to bring to justice the guilty one." He stared into the fire, unseeing. "All I've done is a little damage control."


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