The warmth of the tea lingered between them, its gentle steam curling in the air, yet neither Dumbledore nor Nero paid it any mind.
The conversation had shifted into something deeper, something unspoken yet heavy between them. A silent understanding hung there, waiting to be acknowledged.
Dumbledore exhaled, his fingers lightly tracing the rim of his teacup before setting it aside.
His gaze, piercing yet contemplative, locked onto Nero's. "I have been… stuck, Nero."
Nero said nothing, waiting.
Dumbledore continued, his voice quieter now, yet filled with something raw.
"Since Ariana died… I kept moving forward. Fulfilling duties, guiding others, playing my part as the world demanded. I convinced myself I had changed after my duel with Gellert in 1945. But that wasn't transformation. That was penance. My time stopped that day. I remained frozen, shackled to a moment that never truly ended."
His fingers curled slightly, his thoughts momentarily drifting elsewhere before he refocused.
"Defeating Gellert was meant to bring closure. Instead, it left me… lost. I had thought that removing him from power would be enough. That the world would be set on the right course, and I would no longer need to act. But that was merely an illusion I crafted for myself. A means to justify my own hesitation."
He let out a small, humorless chuckle. "Decades have passed, and still, I have remained a spectator to so many things. Perhaps, in some way, I feared what change might bring. If I were to evolve beyond the man I was back then, then who would I be? What would I be able to do for the greater good?"
He hesitated, his gaze distant. "Or… what if, by acting, I became something else entirely? What if I became a different kind of tyrant?"
The words hung between them, heavy and unyielding.
Dumbledore inhaled deeply, pressing his fingers together. "You see, Nero, when one carries the potential to shape the world, the line between guidance and dominion blurs. I have always feared that, should I take a more active role, I would overstep, that my judgment, my desire to protect, would lead me to enforce, rather than guide. That I would become what I once dreamed of as a young man: someone who believed he knew better than the world itself."
A shadow passed through his expression, the ghost of a memory long buried. "Gellert and I… we envisioned a world shaped by our hands, sculpted by our ideals. And I, in my arrogance, believed that I could wield power without being consumed by it. That we could reshape the world for the better. But I was wrong. So very wrong."
His voice softened, as if weighed down by the past. "Ariana was the price of that belief."
His hand trembled for the briefest moment before he clenched it into a fist and placed it against the table. "It is easy, in hindsight, to claim wisdom. To say that I learned my lesson and grew past it. But did I? Or did I simply run from the truth?"
His eyes darkened, shadowed by old grief. "After that day, I told myself that I would never again seek power. That I would never make decisions for the world at large. But in doing so, I became a prisoner of my own guilt."
He paused, staring at his reflection in the untouched tea. "I turned down the position of Minister of Magic not because I lacked the ability, but because I feared myself. I told myself that guiding from the shadows was the better path, but in truth, I simply wished to remain distant. Detached. If I did not act, I could not fail again."
His gaze darkened, his expression troubled. "Tom… I knew him before he became what he is now. I saw the darkness in him even as a boy, yet I did nothing to stop it. I watched his cruelty manifest, his hunger for power growing unchecked, and still, I only observed. I told myself that he was only a child, that he deserved the same chances as anyone else. But I knew. I knew that something inside him had already begun to twist."
His voice grew quieter, more weighted. "I saw in him a reflection of what I once feared in myself. The desire for control, the certainty that power could shape the world as one wished it to be. But where I recoiled from it, he embraced it fully. And I let him."
His fingers tapped against the table, the movement slow, deliberate. "Even after he left Hogwarts, even when I suspected what he was becoming, I convinced myself that it was not yet time to intervene. That acting too soon would only drive him further into the dark. And so I waited. And in my waiting, he became one of the greatest monsters our world has seen."
Dumbledore's jaw tightened, his usually calm features lined with something that looked like quiet anguish. "I have lived with that regret for many years. That by doing nothing, I allowed something far worse to take root."
His gaze met Nero's, and there was something raw in those blue eyes, something rarely seen.
"And then, I met you."
He let out a soft chuckle.
"Or rather… you came to meet me, at Hogwarts."
Dumbledore allowed the words to settle before continuing, his voice steadier now. "You took actions I had never expected. You entrusted me with something precious, something many would never have dared. You moved forward with purpose, acted with resolve, and carried yourself with a conviction far beyond your years. And more than that, you've shown me what it means to move forward without hesitation. You did not wait for permission to grow, to fight, to seek strength. You have forged your own path… and chose to let me walk beside you for part of it."
A pause.
"You reminded me of something I had long forgotten."
Nero's voice was calm. "What did I remind you of?"
Dumbledore smiled faintly, though it held the weight of years behind it. "That change is not a grand, sweeping motion. It does not come from a single decisive act, but from a series of small steps, each one taken with purpose."
His gaze held steady, the quiet intensity in his eyes making his next words feel heavier. "You have taken those steps without fear, Nero. And because of that, I have come to a decision."
He inhaled deeply, as if preparing himself. "I no longer wish to remain passive. I will not allow myself to be a mere bystander to what is to come."
For the first time in decades, there was no hesitation in his voice.
No uncertainty.
Only quiet resolve.
Dumbledore leaned forward slightly, his hands clasped together as he spoke the next words with unwavering sincerity. "And so, Nero… I ask you this."
His blue eyes held a quiet resolve. "Will you accompany me on this first step?"
Nero exhaled, the corner of his lips curving into the faintest of smiles. "…Of course Grandpa."
And with those words, something quietly settled in Albus Dumbledore.
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