How was he supposed to tell Headmaster Dumbledore?
Heavy-hearted, Sean stepped into the headmaster's office.
The portraits of former headmasters and headmistresses on the walls were all asleep, their chests rising and falling gently.
Dumbledore's phoenix, Fawkes, was perched on the golden stand by the door, as large as a swan, his scarlet and gold feathers dazzling to the eye. He swayed his long tail feathers lazily at Sean.
"Our dear Assistant Green, you don't look very well."
Professor Dumbledore held a cup of tea, his deep blue eyes fixed on Sean.
"I hope I'm not disturbing you."
Sean said.
"My child, if past experience is anything to go by, you have never disturbed me. Sometimes, I rather wish you would come and disturb me."
Dumbledore said kindly.
He set down his pale green porcelain cup and studied the young wizard, who seemed hesitant to speak.
He paused slightly… this was not something he saw often.
"Tea? Or pumpkin juice?"
Dumbledore crooked a finger, and a glass of pumpkin juice floated onto the table in front of Sean.
Looking at the thick, fragrant liquid, Sean took a sip and fell into thought.
Ariana… she was waiting for her brothers.
She was a wandering soul. Such souls were unwilling to move on into the world beyond death, yet equally unwilling to linger in the world of the living.
Their memories were all they had, and also what the Borderland demanded from them.
How should he say it?
Should he tell Headmaster Dumbledore about those long days in the Borderland—days so long they broke the heart…
Would that be too cruel…
"Professor Dumbledore."
In the end, Sean still spoke.
"Assistant Green."
Dumbledore's expression grew much more serious.
"Last night… did you sink into the realm of dreams…"
Sean hesitated.
He saw Dumbledore rise to his feet, a sharp light flashing in his slightly clouded eyes.
Dumbledore moved closer almost instinctively.
"That dream I saw…"
Dumbledore murmured.
Sean saw that after his instant reaction, Dumbledore began to look somewhat lost.
"That was, of course, a dream-story that took place inside your mind."
Sean's voice rang through the headmaster's office.
"But why should that mean it was not real?"
Dumbledore sat down abruptly. He carefully lifted his wand to his temple. A silver thread floated out, and he gently lowered it into the basin.
The basin gleamed like bright silver, but it was constantly moving, like water rippling in a breeze, or clouds drifting and softly swirling.
The silver strand lay within it like light turned liquid, or wind made solid.
Or perhaps… like a dream.
"She…"
Dumbledore's voice turned hoarse.
The kind, wise old man was gone. At this moment, Dumbledore was simply a brother who had failed terribly.
"She's not living well."
Sean said.
Dumbledore's breath caught, his face miserable and stricken.
"Very badly."
After a moment's thought, Sean decided even that description was not precise enough.
"Green…"
Dumbledore's voice had gone completely raw.
"Professor Dumbledore… forgive me. Lies are always comforting. But the truth, sir… I'm sorry, I cannot hide it."
Sean sighed, then continued,
"The world beyond the Veil of Death does not welcome wandering souls. When I saw her, she was a timid witch who could not find her home. She could not find a hearth, could not find a bed, could not find a stove, could not find her… brothers…
All alone, living exposed to wind and hunger—those things had become ordinary for her. The world beyond the Veil took her memories as payment in exchange for a hundred years of wandering and pain."
As Sean spoke, even his own eyes dimmed.
Nothing in this world could stand up to close examination. The moment you examined it, every single thing concealed some injustice.
Sean saw tears run down the old man's clouded eyes.
It was the first time he had ever seen Professor Dumbledore cry, and he turned his face away.
"I understand…"
Dumbledore thought back to last night's dream—the pain of those partings, the scars of that guilt—and in an instant, the shameful and sinful memories rose before his eyes.
He shifted restlessly in his chair, so terrified he wanted to shout.
In the end, he only closed his eyes in anguish.
Sean fell silent.
He looked at Dumbledore, his eyes full of pity.
This was too cruel, but he could not conceal it.
If he concealed it, then who would speak for her grievance? Ariana's grievance?
Rita had said that in the Borderland, certain wizards would even pretend to "bully" Ariana because of her timid nature.
And Sean found himself thinking—was her god supposed to bully her too?
The headmaster's office sank into a long silence, until at last it was broken by the flutter of Fawkes's wings.
"Green… have I done such a poor job?"
Dumbledore's face was full of confusion. The setting sun outlined the collapse of his nose, and in that instant he seemed to have aged all over again.
"You are Hogwarts' best headmaster."
Sean said quietly.
"But I am the least worthy brother, am I not?"
Dumbledore smiled, and it looked worse than crying.
"Talk to me, child. I know that one day, all of this will have to be entrusted to you."
Sean's eyes flickered. Before he had even fully processed those words, he let out a sorrowful sigh almost without meaning to.
"You've made your decision?"
Sean asked.
"What an unworthy man I am. After treating her so cruelly, I still thought of borrowing the excuse of others. As though the world needed me that badly."
There was sorrow in Dumbledore's eyes, but also gentleness.
"Can I trust you, child?"
"I don't know."
Sean answered hesitantly.
Dumbledore was the wall standing between Voldemort and everyone else in the wizarding world. He was the only person Voldemort truly feared.
If he were to leave, then…
Sean's gaze slowly hardened with resolve.
It was true that the world needed Dumbledore.
But Ariana needed Albus.
"You've already made your choice, haven't you? You could have hidden this from me, but you wouldn't, would you? You never lie, child."
Dumbledore looked at the quietly standing boy and smiled kindly.
He would always choose like this. Dumbledore had always known that.
Even knowing the consequences, this good child would still make the right and difficult choice.
"Let me tell you a story, child. Though I have already told it before. This time, I will tell you more of the details."
Dumbledore's face filled with remembrance.
"Her death, my sister's death—that was entirely my fault. After you hear it, you should despise me."
"I won't despise you."
Sean said.
"You should."
Dumbledore said, smiling bleakly.
"You likely already know the secret of my sister's illness. You know what those Muggles did. You know what she became.
You know that my poor father paid the price for avenging her and died in Azkaban. You know my mother gave up her life caring for Ariana.
"At that time, I hated all of it, child."
Dumbledore spoke with blunt, cold honesty.
His gaze passed over Sean's head and fixed itself somewhere far away.
"I was too selfish, child. Of course I loved them, but in the end I still escaped… because he came…"
He looked into Sean's eyes again, then lowered them.
"You know him. Grindelwald.
But you cannot imagine how deeply his ideas attracted me—how they inspired me.
Muggles brought to heel. Wizards standing tall. Grindelwald and I were to be the glorious young leaders of that revolution."
A feverish light shone in Dumbledore's eyes.
"Oh, I had my doubts. But I soothed my conscience with empty phrases.
Everything was for the greater good. Any harm done would be repaid a hundredfold in benefit to the wizarding world.
Did I know, deep down, what sort of man Gellert Grindelwald truly was?
I think I did. But I chose to turn a blind eye. So long as our plans succeeded, all my dreams would come true.
And at the heart of those plans were the Deathly Hallows! How obsessed he was with them, how obsessed both of us were.
The wand that would never lose—a weapon that would grant us power!
The Resurrection Stone—to him it meant an army of Inferi, but I pretended not to know that.
To me, I admit it meant bringing my parents back to life, taking all responsibility off my shoulders.
And then there was the Cloak… somehow, we never spoke of the Cloak much. Neither of us needed one to hide ourselves well.
Of course, the true power of the Invisibility Cloak is not just that it hides and protects its owner, but that it can also hide and protect others.
At the time, I thought that if we found it, perhaps we could use it to hide Ariana. But our interest in it existed only because it was one of the three Hallows. According to the tale, whoever possessed all three became the true conqueror of death—and we understood that to mean invincible.
Invincible conquerors of death—Grindelwald and Dumbledore!
Two months of madness. My head full of cruel dreams. While I ignored the only two people left at home who needed me."
The feverish light in Dumbledore faded, and he seemed to grow old again.
"Then… reality appeared in the form of my rough-tempered, uneducated, yet far better brother.
I would not listen to the truths he shouted in my face. I didn't want to hear that I was being held back from seeking the Hallows by a frail, unstable sister.
The argument rose into a duel. Grindelwald lost control.
That part of him—the part I had always sensed, and always pretended not to see—suddenly erupted in something terrible. Ariana… after being so carefully protected and cared for by my mother… fell to the ground and died."
Dumbledore drew a shallow breath and finally began to cry openly.
Fawkes flew over and leaned against Dumbledore's shoulder.
Sean gripped Dumbledore's arm tightly, and the old man slowly brought himself back under control.
"Afterward, Grindelwald fled. No one but I could have failed to see that coming.
He vanished, taking with him his plans for power, his designs on subjugating Muggles, and his dream of finding the Deathly Hallows. And I had encouraged him in those dreams. I had helped him.
He ran, and I remained to bury my sister and learn how to live with guilt and unbearable grief. That was the price of my disgrace.
Many years passed. I began hearing rumors about him. They said he had obtained a wand of immense power.
At that time, the office of Minister for Magic was placed before me more than once—many times. Naturally, I refused. By then I knew power must never be entrusted to me.
While I devoted myself to teaching young witches and wizards, Grindelwald gathered an army. People said he feared me. Perhaps he did. But I think I feared him more.
Oh, not death—"
Dumbledore met Sean's quiet, pitying gaze.
"Not what he might do to me with magic. I knew we were evenly matched. Perhaps I was even slightly stronger.
What I feared was the truth. Do you understand? I never knew, in that terrible tangle of combat, who cast the curse that killed my sister.
You may call me a coward—you would be right. Child, what I feared most, deep down, was learning that it had been me. Not just through my pride and my stupidity, but that it had been my hand that struck her down.
I think he knew that. I think he knew exactly what I feared.
I delayed facing him until, at last, not appearing would have been too shameful. People were dying. He seemed unstoppable. I had to do what I could.
Well… the rest, you know already. I won the duel. I won the wand.
And now history repeats itself. Another young and cruel wizard—one who is utterly consumed by cruelty…"
Dumbledore's telling came to an end.
He stood and looked at Sean very carefully.
This child. This fourteen-year-old wizard. Was he really going to place all of that weight on his shoulders?
Dumbledore knew the answer.
He would carry it, and he would do everything in his power to carry it well.
There was never any doubt of that.
"Go see him, child. Tell him I sent you. There are not many wizards left in this castle who can teach you that part of knowledge."
Dumbledore said it softly.
"You mean what?"
Sean instantly went blank.
"Oh, child. Severus has taught you so much, and you've forgotten it all already? Or is it simply that you've nearly surpassed him, so you no longer take it seriously?"
Dumbledore seemed rather pleased by his reaction.
"But you…"
Sean was full of confusion.
Headmaster Dumbledore wasn't…
And Grindelwald? Dumbledore wanted him to go learn Dark Magic from Grindelwald…
The world had to have turned upside down.
"Creating an entirely new system of magic is not a simple thing… As for me, child—
I have long since lost the right to face her. You've told me I should not retreat, but I do not think that moment is now."
Dumbledore looked out at the evening clouds.
"If I went there now, and then met you there not long afterward, I think no one would be anything but heartbroken."
Sean had underestimated Dumbledore's resolve. A man who had suffered so much had, in the end, still become a wizard of kindness, breadth, and endurance.
"Oh, and you can bring her out, can't you?"
Just before the red tea went entirely cold, Dumbledore asked that sudden question.
"Not now. But not much longer."
Sean answered.