Rating:
G
House:
The Dark Arts
Characters:
Albus Dumbledore
Genres:
General
Era:
Multiple Eras
Spoilers:
Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban
Stats:
Published: 08/28/2002
Updated: 08/28/2002
Words: 716
Chapters: 1
Hits: 690

Old Blue Eyes, i.e. Behind The Twinkling

Magpie Poet

Story Summary:
A brief look into Dumbledore's mind without the help of a penseive! What does he think of when the dementors drift by, what does he

Chapter Summary:
A brief look into Dumbledore's mind without the help of a penseive! What does he think of when the dementors drift by, what does her *really* see in the mirror of Erised?
Posted:
08/28/2002
Hits:
690
Author's Note:
sorry, new kid in town, don't know anybody in particular to thank yet! so a simple thanks to everyone who reads this :) *please* leave comments


Old Blue Eyes, i.e. Behind the Twinkling.

"The dementors should have arrived by now. I'll go and meet them. Dumbledore, I'll see you upstairs." Fudge went to the door. Waited for Severus, who would not let this go so easily.

Unbidden, memories rose in my mind. The images I saw each time I was near a dementor. I barely heard Severus's words. His persistent hiss. Clamped to his purpose like a particularly nasty lamprey eel. Slytherin to the core. Not that I have never been over attached to my own opinions...

"My memory is as good as it ever was, Severus."

It was indeed.

My office. Fawlkes cawing away in the corner. Aurora standing before me. Her eyes red, watery but defiant. She had been so young. Maybe that was part of the problem.

"You will never be an auror." Was I really the one who said that? The voice didn't sound like mine.

"What, because I don't believe as everyone else does? Don't be a fool. Deceit has many layers, you above all should know that! How do you know it is he who lies? Nobody bothered to investigate!" Her eyes flashed silver blue, like sparks of summer lightning.

"You're in love. Stupid girl, you can't see anything but what you want to be true. Your mind knows you are wrong, your mouth and heart had better follow suit." I had strained my voice in an attempt to sound calm and reasonable. I failed, and my voice had been hoarse for days afterwards.

"You," Her voice dripped with venom, "are so used to being right you find it inconceivable that anyone else could be right for once." She straightened. I don't think I realized until that moment that she had grown to be fully my height.

"I admit my faults when I have cause to. It just happens to be extremely rare. You, on the other hand, my dear, have shown a serious lack of judgment before. Quite often in fact."

"So therefore you assume I must always be wrong."

"You are wrong. The ministry is content with their conclusion and so am I. Sirius was not the man you thought him to be. He is responsible for the death of Lily and James--your friends--as well as a number of Muggles and poor Peter. There are no questions left unanswered." I remember sitting back in my chair, confident that when confronted by the cruel facts she would break down.

She did not. "I knew them, all of them, better than you. As you said, my friends. Sirius would never serve someone merely because they were more powerful. Others..." she spat the word out, "might..." Her words hung in the air like a half cast charm.

I gave up. Times had been unstable, we could not afford division if we wanted our world to heal. "Get out." I could picture her face, stunned, even the single tear on her cheek seemed frozen. I close my eyes to block out her eyes each time I remember, but they linger there.

She had closed her eyes, more tears fell from under dark lashes. "Fine." She turned to leave, Spartan black cloak wrapped around her like armor.

"Always the self righteous little brat." The words slipped out. I used them to protect myself, to cover my impulse to reach out to her.

She turned to me, her eyes the color of the lake on midwinter eve. And about as warm. "I get that from my father."

A swirl of cloak and hair, and she was gone. What do I really see in the mirror of Erised? My Aurora. My light.

"Professor...." Harry and Hermione both blurted out their tale as quickly as they could. And entirely incoherently. I held up my hand to silence their needless explanations.

"It is your turn to listen..." I helped them figure out how to help Sirius, all but telling them. Miss Granger is a clever girl... They needn't know it was the only was I could handle my own conscience. "Good luck."

They performed admirably. I sat alone in my office, almost content. I had one letter left to write. I picked up my old tattered hawk feather quill, a Father's Day gift from long ago, and began to write. "My dear Aurora..."