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Harry Potter and the Secrets That Time Forgot	By : The_Knight_of_Gilgamesh Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 2524 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own anything associated with Harry Potter. This is a non-profit story for my enjoyment and others

Chapter List
- 1-Harry Potter and the Secrets That Time Forgot
- 1
Chapter 1: The Conversation

Professor Dumbledore sat in silence watching Fawkes preening his newly reborn feathers. A cup of tea steamed away on his desk, and a pleasant evening breeze from the open window made the steam curl and dance. Far off in the forest someone, most likely a Centaur from the sound of the voice, was laughing and shrieking in some kind of game. Fawkes was still small and to some might appear ugly, but watching this cycle of death and rebirth always seemed to be when Albus did his best thinking.
Life is fleeting, and death comes for us all. For some sooner than others, but everyone meets Death one day. It is out there for everyone, coming closer one day at a time. No one can run from it forever, no matter what kinds of magic they use. Albus had learned this over time, but not before preforming a spell with Gellert a long time ago that most likely bought him another century on top of the century and a half he already had.
But what about Harry?
“You wanted to see me Professor?” Harry asked from the open door. He looked tired and worn out. His hair, normally all wild but showing signs of attempted grooming was more savage than usual. His eyes were bloodshot, and even the way he held himself seemed defeated. Albus knew the loss of Sirius was still hitting him hard, and wished there was anything that he could do to alleviate the boys pain.
“Yes Harry, please take a seat.” A fresh bowl of lemon drops were pulled from a side drawer and the empty was removed. “Lemon drop?”
Harry took the offered candy and sat back in the chair, the old leather and wood creaking softly, holding the little confectionery absently until he seemed to remember it was there and popped it in is mouth.
“I apologize for depriving you of a final game of chess with Mr. Weasley. I do believe you might be starting to make some progress,” Professor Dumbledore said cheerfully with a twinkle. “Do you know why I asked you to come here at such a late hour on a school night?”
“Not really sir,” Harry replied, the candy tapping lightly against a tooth as he spoke.
“Well, to be perfectly honest with you my boy, I had originally planned on having a series of meetings with you wherein we would go into various memories I have obtained of Tom's life and rise to power as well as other events relevant to the war that seems to be crouching just on the horizon.” He took a lemon drop for himself and sucked on it slowly, still speaking. “And before you leave I will be showing you several of them, but I no longer believe it to be the best way to go about preparing you.”
Harry frowned and something seemed to be nagging at him.
“If you have something to say Harry, I am all ears. I never want you to feel like you cannot tell me what you are thinking.”
Harry chewed his lip, his eyes darting around the floor as he thought about how best to say what he was thinking. “No disrespect Professor, but how is looking at some old memories supposed to prepare me to fight Voldemort?”
Dumbledore smiled and chuckled. “That is exactly what Professor McGonagal said to me only a few hours ago. Although to be perfectly honest she used many more words, some of which I will not repeat. However the effect I was hoping for was a better understanding of exactly who and what Tom Riddle is. You and I can both call him by a name, while most other Wizards cannot. That gives us power, and takes some power away from him. I believe that when you understand who he is, and where he came from he will be nothing more than a man to you. He will lose the image of the terrifying and all powerful spectre, and give you an advantage, even if it is only psychological. I had hoped that showing you small glimpses of his slow rise to power, from a boy to what he is now, and giving you a week or two to think on each one would give you insights and empower you in ways I could never do with just words.”
Professor Dumbledore placed his elbows on the desk, his chair squeaking, and steeped his fingers. His young blue eyes looked deep into Harry's, making him feel for the first time that he was sitting as an equal in a conversation with the old Wizard. “Harry, you are smart, and you use that intelligence very well.”
Harry opened his mouth, but Professor Dumbledore beat him too it. “Yes, there are other students in this school who score higher than you in come classes, but you have talents that no other student has, and even most adults do not have. You have fought through and survived more close encounters with Death himself than most Wizards and Witches put together. At only fifteen you have faced Tom three times and survived, an achievement only five other people could claim, and that's even before mentioning Dementors, Basilisks and Dragons. Surviving all of that takes intelligence and cunning, and no small amount of knowing when to take a lucky opportunity.”
Professor Dumbledore tapped his index fingers against his lips and formulated his next words carefully. “Harry, I am going to be brutally honest with you, but do not for one instant believe you should give up, or that I will give up on you. We will find a way through this.”
Harry swallowed hard around a stone that seemed to have lodged in his throat. The seriousness of this conversation was beginning to press down on him, and it was a familiar pressure. He had felt it every time he picked up a sword in a cavern, or faced Death Eaters, or stood looking into the blood rubies of Voldemorts eyes.
“Harry, no amount of teachings or techniques could put you on equal footing with Tom. There is no book with long forgotten magic that would allow you to wipe out anyone who stands in front of you, and even if by some chance there was such a thing, ask yourself; could you use it? I could teach you more merciful, yet terrifyingly powerful and terrible magics. Ways to numb your opponent to all pain while their chest explodes and everything inside them is pulled outside. I can teach you how to lock down a mind forever and turn a body to stone, leaving the person trapped for all of eternity with their own thoughts, unable to ever experience the outside world again, yet unable to die. I can teach you soul magics that can kill with a single word or gesture, separating the soul and body, and allowing the soul to pass on peacefully to whatever paradise or hell awaits it.”
Harry had always known that Professor Dumbledore was considered the most powerful Wizard alive, but he had never stopped to really consider what all that entailed. Knowledge, after all, really was the basis of all power. For the first time he was starting to understand why so many, including Voldemort, were afraid to go up against his wand, even in friendly competition. “I could teach you even worse spells and castings. Spells that rip and rend bodies apart, or boil away blood and internal organs. I could teach you how to call and control creatures far worse than Dementors and force nightmares into peoples heads that would consume their very souls from the inside out.”
“I know all of these things Harry, and I know where to look for many more. I can show you entire libraries of spells so dark and powerful that their very existence has been wiped from general knowledge for fear of it. I know where to obtain artifacts unknown to even the Ministry. Artifacts that shaped the modern Wizarding world from where it was a thousand years ago, when Witches and Wizards consisted of nearly thirty percent of the world's population, down to where it is now, at barely three percent. I know these things, but I also know that you and I are not so different.”
“In my whole life, and in all the battles and fights I have had with Dark Wizards and Witches over the last century and a half, I have only used such weapons twice, and to this day I still have nightmares. I wish I could have found a better way. There are some in the Magical world that say I am too soft on some people and give too many chances, especially those considered by many as dark. Those same people also say that if I have the power to take out every single rotten, diseased soul corrupting the world, that I should. Without mercy and with every once of power and knowledge I possess. That may be true, and if I truly thought I should, I would be able to. However what if I am wrong about who deserves it?”
Harry immediately thought of such people as Lucious Malfoy, Bellatrix, and Greyback. One look into Dumbledore's eyes told Harry that is exactly where he wanted Harry to go mentally. “There are those that very few can put up a defence or excuse for, but power is addicting Harry. If I started to do such things, what if I liked it too much? Or even worse; what if I believed in it too much? What if it started to change me? What would happen once I had taken out the worst of them; the ones that no one in the world would blame me for taking care of, and I continued down the list? Where would I stop? If I eliminated Bellatrix, wouldn't I also go after other high ranking Death Eaters? Those in Voldemort's inner circle? This is, after all, a war; and the rules of war are very different than those of the normal and everyday.”
Dumbledore let that stew for a moment in Harry's mind and took another lemon drop for himself. “Should I start with murderers? Those that killed entire families right down to the infants in their beds? I have thought of doing it, as have no doubt countless others. How about rapists? Some may argue, and I among them, that rape crime is possibly even worse than murder. What about people who were under the Imperius curse when they killed or raped? Do they deserve my brand of justice? There is no way to tell if someone was truly under the curse. Memories can be altered, and the spell leaves no marks or effects like the Cruciatus curse. Should it be up to me to judge and execute? What if I didn't, and they were given a trial and found innocent, but I knew they were guilty? What if the proof I had was inadmissible as evidence, but was damning? I could ghost right into Azkaban and make it look like an accident if I so chose.”
“And then there would be those who would start to question if I really should be doing exactly what they wanted me to do only a short time before, by taking my own actions against those I knew were guilty. And what about the next time? What if the evidence was shakier, but I was still convinced? What if the time after that I found no evidence but was even surer? Where is the line? I know I would never hurt innocents, or those that had reasonable doubt, but what if my idea of reasonable doubt and innocents was different than everyone else? What if my position was one of experience? What if I had seen the same thing during a previous war and believed I knew exactly where it was heading but could convince no one else?”
The silence in the room was booming as the sweat trickled down Harry's neck. Even Fawkes was motionless and watchful, observing his companion with all his attentions.
“Finally,” continued Dumbledore softly, “what happens when other people start to speak out and fight against what I'm doing? I would still believe in what I am doing, and there would be many on my side, but there would be a split in the people. What if one time there is someone who begins to convince people to turn against me? If I so chose I could easily turn their mind elsewhere. It would not hurt them, nor change who they are at any level, but they would be blind to me – after all I was doing the work of the light. Is that right of me to do? What if a son or daughter of a person I deemed too black hearted for this world came to me seeking something?”
“A child is an amazing thing Harry. They start out life loving their parents without condition, and only terrible experience can change that. What if an innocent young man or woman came to me for their own Justice? What if they were wholly convinced that I had been wrong, and their mother of father wasn't a mass murdered or rapist? Should I fight them? Should I let the courts take them away and imprison them for doing the exact same thing that I myself was, by taking justice into their own hands? By that point I would have to make a decision how to deal with them because I would be doing good work for the side of the light, working to make the world a better place by removing the dark. I wouldn't be able to stop.”
“What would I be by that point? I would have a portion of the Wizarding world on my side, and a portion against me. Rumours would travel faster than wildfire and facts would travel even faster, getting distorted the whole way. On top of that I would have made a great many enemies. The families of those I had taken care of would band together to fight me, each in their own way. Some would be political, others would do what they could, and a final portion would group together on their own, or under a leader, light or dark it does not matter, but the result would be the same.”
“I would never be a cold blooded killer, or anywhere near the level of Voldemort or other Dark Lords, but would I still be seen as wise and just a man? Would I be a lighter brand of Dark Lord? A stained Light Lord? A Grey Lord? Or a new breed altogether? No matter what path I chose I would end up heading far down a damning road. In ridding the world of horror and those people that had only evil in their hearts, I would take their place as a new threat. There would be a new war with me at the centre, an the cycle would start over again.”
A clock somewhere unseen in the office ticked away long seconds as Harry tried to digest all he had just heard. Some part of him was still searching for a way to dispute what Professor Dumbledore had said, while another, much more afraid part of him could not.
“Harry, I know this is a lot to take in. We have never had a conversation like this, but I have thought a lot on the subjects of where the world is going, and what we need to do about Voldemort, and I believe that these talks are necessary.” Dumbledore watched Harry grapple mentally with all that had been thrust on him, and was pleased to see that the boy was taking it well. “Harry, if I were to take the very first steps of that plan right this minute, and went to Azkaban and took care of ... no, let me use the words; killed Bellatrix Lestrange, what would happen?”
Harry was rooted to his seat with the lemon drop forgotten on his tongue. “I suppose there would be a trial sir?”
“I believe so too, Harry, “Dumbledore said, nodding in agreement. “And what do you think the outcome of such a trial would be?”
“I – I really don't know, sir.”
“Well I do not think it is too ego serving of me to think that at the worst I might get a token punishment. Definitely a fine and some kind of public service or chamber arrest, perhaps a removal of some of my titles and awards but I cannot imagine I would spend even a night in prison, do you?”
Harry thought about Neville's parents laying motionless and unaware of everything in a coma ward. Unable to ever so much as notice their son sitting beside them and talking to them. Never to see him grow up, or get married and have a family. They would never see grandchildren and would most likely wither away sometime far in the future and just expire. Death was for those beings that were still people, and not left as nothing more than blank human shaped dolls laying on a bed by a madwoman and two accomplices.
And those were just two of her victims. You did not become known as Voldemort's most faithful follower by killing and destroying the lives of only a few people. Any Lawyer in the world could win the trial before even getting down the first page, naming and describing the hundreds of people and families murdered and tortured by Bellatrix.
Harry's silence howled loudly in his ears, and his mind raced. He understood what Professor Dumbledore was saying, and knew where this was going. The Professor really was asking Harry what he wanted to do in this ... war, and one thought above all rang over and over in his head.
“I want to live through this, sir,” Harry finally answered. Professor Dumbledore's young blue eyes watched him over the tops of his half-moon spectacles. He didn't look at Harry with any judgement, but instead nodded and seemed to come to a decision about where to take the conversation next.
“I have never told you much about my younger years have I, Harry?” Dumbledore asked almost rhetorically.
“No, sir.”
He nodded, getting up and levitating his high-backed chair from behind the desk so that he could face Harry without the desk between them. Harry squirmed in his seat slightly, not sure how to feel about this new level of interactions. “Most of the story and details will be for another night like this, but I will be giving you some history tonight.”
“Okay,” Harry replied, shifting in his chair slightly so he could look the Professor more directly.
“What do you know of Gellert?”
Harry was not sure what he expected, and although it made sense that Professor Dumbledore would tell him something of his own dealings with a Dark Wizard, he still felt out of his depth. “Um, not much sir. Mostly just that you defeated him in 1945 and he is still imprisoned at Nurmengard.”
Dumbledore nodded sagely.“Yes that is all correct. The chocolate frog cards continue to unsurprisingly teach much of students' working Knowledge.” Professor Dumbledore smiled kindly and made two such treated appear from his robes and handed one to Harry. “The story, as you may surmise, is much more detailed that that. For instance do you know that I was once very close to Gellert? We were the best of friends when we were young and largely grew up together?”
Harry almost choked on his chocolate and Dumbledore was almost to his feet when he recovered. “I – I can honestly say I never knew that.”
“Few who are not historians or interested in the subject do. It is hauled out and brandied about ever few decades in someone's attempts to discredit me, but the last time was in the seventies,” Professor Dumbledore replied, settling himself in the squishy cushion again. “How ever I can assure you that it is true, and that is the least of the shocking facts. For instance it was the two of us together, myself and Gellert, that came up with the frame work for his plans all the way up to 1945.”
Harry was starting to feel numb from all the shocks he was getting this night
“When I was a boy my family lived Godric's Hollow, and for a summer Gellert came to live with his great-aunt, Bathilda Bagshot. We became quick friends, and in the later years and decades we made plans to gather some long lost and very powerful weapons. Once we had obtained them, we planned on leading a Wizarding Revolution with the aim of ending the International Statute of Secrecy and creating a benevolent global order led by wise and powerful witches and wizards, of course with both of us near the very top.”
Albus Dumbledore suddenly looked much older than he ever had before, as though in telling Harry this, he was also letting the boy see the huge weight that he had been carrying all his life. “We weren't evil Harry, and neither of us wanted people to die, or an entire world war to spring up around us. We knew there would be fighting, but we hoped that as the world was still reeling from a long economical depression, any skirmishes with governments would be short lived, and with limited resources. We were naive in our youth, and I am ashamed to admit that it was my idea to use an impoverished Germany to spearhead our Muggle operations and slowly introduce magic and the mystical into common knowledge.”
“We planned it all out over several years. We formulated strategies in both political and military theatres, preformed rituals and magical rites to improve our chances and abilities, and by the end of it i very nearly went ahead with the plan, but there was a tragedy. It was terrible, and shocked me deeply, to the point of changing my perception of the entire thing.” Professor Dumbledore looked sadly at his phoenix companion, a living and dying representation of the circle of life. One secret that he had never told anyone, and never would, was that watching Fawkes pass away reminded him very much of that dark and terrible day almost a century before when his sister perished. “I believe Magic itself connected the destinies of Fawkes and I, so that I would never again think to step down that path.”
Harry shifted uncomfortably in his chair and the rustling of fabrics seemed to shake Dumbledore out of his trance. The old man took a deep breath and let it out slowly, and it was like the weight on him was once again put away and locked behind iron doors.
“Although Gellert instigated one of the worst, and widest reaching war the world has ever seen, he did not see himself as evil. He was light-hearted, and believed everything he did was in the cause of the Greater Good, a phrase both of us invented in our tenth year, and a phrase that he used as his banner for the entire war.”
“Harry,” said Dumbledore softly, “no man believes himself to be evil. No man goes out into the world wishing to become the next Dark Lord, and be feared and hated. It is instead a very long path of many steps, with the rest of the world standing in judgement of you at the end of it all, with the title of Hero in one hand, and the title of Villain in the other and it will hang one around your neck no matter what you think or feel.”
A very long pause drew between them, with only the faint sounds of the forest and lake outside the window in the fading light coming in through the window. “I never once believed I was creating a disaster as I planned out our revolution. Gellert, who I do still have occasional conversations with to this day, does not see himself as the villain of the conflict, and he does not see me as the villain. It is very easy for people now to pin the title of Dark Lord on Gellert Grindelwald, but when you are in the thick of it, and when you yourself are the core of a changing event, things such as who the Hero is and who the Villain is are very muddled up indeed.”
“Tom Riddle is such a case, although you, I and much of the World would agree that he is a terrible black hearted and hateful person, the sole cause of this war, and very easily labelled as a Dark Lord in every sense of the word, I also believe that he does not see himself as Evil. I believe he uses the terms and masks of Darkness as a weapon to get to his ends; much like Gellert and I once did with our own revolution. Mysticism and symbolism can be powerful tools.”
“I believe he sees himself as the hero of this whole war, freeing the pure-blooded people from the weights that were slowly dragging them down into the depths of forgotten memories. Over the many conversation an interrogations with Death Eaters, I see that they feel like their culture, and everything they have build over thousands of years is slowly being ground down into dust.”
“A very long time ago wizard, witches, and all manner of magical peoples lived as equals, and in many cases, as a higher class to muggles. Then there was war, after war, after war, until we were greatly reduced, and the common muggles rose up to over throw us and beat back the magical races that they didn't understand, and therefore feared. After that the Statute of Secrecy was established, and we found a balance for a while. Hogwarts was created, as well as other schools, and our numbers began to grow again; our culture was returning, However some saw the inclusion of muggle borns as a problem. They were a part of our world, and yet not a part of it. They didn't understand many aspects of us, and rejected them. Some people, Salazar Slytherin included, believed that if the muggle born witches and wizards gained political power, and became our equals in every sense, that they would start to erase our culture and way of life, in favour of our own. Like the muggles of so long ago had done to our fore fathers.” Professor Dumbledore looked over to Fawkes as he preened his new feathers. “The pure-bloods advocated to limit the muggle borns influence. The muggle borns resisted, not wanting to be relegated to second class people, and there was an uprising.”
Far in the distance, and through the trees of the Forbidden Forst something vicious and powerful howled. A cloud passed over the moon, casting the room in shadow, before moving on, letting the pale yellow moonlight on every surface. “I believe he sees himself as a hero, saving the culture and well being of the people he has chosen to spend his life along side. I do not for one second truly believe he can love them, but I do think he wants them to love him, and respect him. As a fellow orphan I do believe you can relate to those feelings in him.”
Harry didn't say a word, but his fingers dug deeper into the arms of the chair. Professor Dumbledore's eyes watched from over his spectacles, and a sad little smile graced his lips. “It's not so easy to think of him as a soulless monster anymore is it? Maybe it would have been easier to do what needed to be done if we never came to that conclusion, but if we do not understand our enemy we will never defeat him. And most important of all, if we didn't see him as someone human; as someone to be pitied; what would we become if we were to take his life? Would we be heros, villains, or something else entirely?”
A long minute ticked by, while Harry realized Dumbledore wanted him to give an answer. “Um, well,” Harry cleared his throat. His mind was spinning off the rails just trying to absorb all that he had just been told, let alone come to conclusion of some sort, but as soon as he thought that, the answer seemed so clear. “Yes.”
“Yes?” Professor Dumbledore enquired with a twinkle, and Harry knew he was in the right track.
“Yes to all three. We would be heroes to some, villains to others, and something else in between to yet more.”
“I believe as such.” Professor Dumbledore nodded and smiled. “Now, back to Tom, and what may happen in the future. I would very much like to hand you some kind of weapon that would make this go away in a second, as I have already gone on about in some detail, and although we will be doing some study in many aspects I believe will be beneficial the fact remains there there is no wonder spell.'
There was a very strange feeling settling on the back of Harry's mind. All his life he had always thought of Dumbledore as incredibly wise, and having at least a decent handle on pretty much everything, but now sitting in this room, Harry was getting a very different feeling. A feeling he had never felt in regards to the old wizard before.
Albus Dumbledore was only human, like most people.
Dumbledore got up from his chair, and went over to his cupboards. He got out several old purple tea cups with little moons around the rim and a faded old tea pot. Harry watched him slowly and carefully take own a tin of tea, walk with the pot through a side door, and filled it with water. This went on for several minutes, and in that time the tiny little ball of fuzzy red and yellow feathers that was Fawkes had fluttered over to perch on the back of Harry's chair.
“Have you come up with any questions or thoughts Harry?” Professor Dumbledore asked, placing two steaming cups of tea on the corner of his desk, and retaking his new place on the same side of the desk with Harry.
Harry picked up his teacup, and took a slow sip. A little bit of honey, just like he always made for himself at Private drive, but he had never seen honey on the tables in the great hall. His eyes met Dumbledore's, and the young crystal blue eyes seemed to gleam with almost childlike mischief. Harry laughed, he couldn't help himself. Leave it to the strange old man to always put a little magic into the world, even in a world of magic.
“Well, I did have one thought,” Harry said, feeling like he was stepping fully into new territory, and proposing a theory to an equal for critique.
“The best things come from a single thought.”
Harry fiddled with his cup. Some part of him always felt like he would have to be a big part of taking down Voldemort, but now that he was starting to try and think of ways to go about it, that time suddenly felt frighteningly close. “I was thinking about muggle weapons.”
“Ahh, yes,” replied Dumbledore, taking a sip of his own tea. “A very good idea. Most pure-bloods have little to no knowledge or respect for muggle technologies. They have a passing knowledge of the existence of firearms, and how they work, but one could do some damage with even a pistol. It is an idea with some possibilities; however, if I can say so delicately, you are not the first half-blood or muggle born to have thought of it. There are small, but isolated attempts made with such devices, and they do prove to be useful. Tom is another story though. He grew up in the muggle world till he was nearly ten years old.”
“Really?” Harry asked, slightly surprised. “I mean I know he was a half blood like me, but I just assumed he had been raised in the magical world.”
“It is a secret he keeps very closely guarded. I do not believe the number of people who know exceed what is countable on one hand. The details we will get to later this evening, in the memories I will be showing you, but do you now see why a gun would not be the perfect solution either?” Harry nodded, taking mental note of this new information as he drank another sip of his tea. “Any boy by the age of five, let alone eleven would have basic knowledge and a decent idea about what a gun could do. Tom would be ready and he was, for the three closest attempts made by muggle borns. They did not go well for the poor people trying to end this war the first time it raged.”
“A firearm might have potential for some encounters with Death Eaters but it is not a solution.” Dumbledore took reached back onto his desk and picked up his own tea cup, taking a few sips before resting it on the corner of his desk. “There isn't going to be any one perfect solution to this conflict, much like there is not one for many that happen in the world. However I do believe that something will present itself to you.”
Professor Dumbledore lifted a small crystal that was sitting on his desk and cradled it carefully in his hands. It was a sparkling pure white, and it seemed to warp the reflections of the room in very unusual ways. “Do you know what a prophecy is Harry?”
- 1
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Harry Potter and the Secrets That Time Forgot