He felt so old.
Useless.
Fawkes trilled and swooped over from his perch to sit on Albus's shoulder. Albus stroked his friend's head gently, grateful for Fawke's unwavering support.
Sirius's plan also kept Harry well away from the fight, Albus mused idly, or at least tried to keep Harry away from the fight. But Albus thought Sirius was wrong about the prophecy. He hadn't been a fan of Divination himself before witnessing Sybill's declaration and could understand Sirius's point of view but ultimately it didn't matter because Tom believed the prophecy. So, no; Albus had no doubt that Harry would have face to Tom in battle again.
But, Harry no longer had to be the one to die; Albus didn't need to shape the boy so he would sacrifice his own life. He didn't need to hope beyond hope that Tom would seek to use Harry's blood in creating a body and thus provide an anchor so Harry had an impossible chance to survive death; a long shot if ever there was one. The relief of that made his knees tremble. It had been the part of the plan that Albus had hated; had always hated. To know that he didn't have to groom the boy in such a way, that such a stain would not be added to those already on his soul – ArianaGellert – was a weight off his shoulders.
He pursed his lips.
The problem was that if Harry was not to die in battle he would need to fight Tom and match him if not beat him. Nothing Albus had previously planned involved that scenario. Harry was a gifted DADA student – natural – but beyond that Albus hadn't seen the need to offer additional training or education. In fact Albus would have denied Harry such a thing if he'd asked because when Harry discovered he needed to die, that Albus hadn't given him any training to survive would underscore how much Albus believed that Harry needed to die. That Harry lacked confidence in his own worth because of the Dursleys would have just made convincing him easier albeit Albus hadn't planned it that way and he honestly hadn't realised that they'd been anything other than unloving.
Albus sighed.
Severus had informed him that the Dark Mark was growing stronger. Harry would no doubt meet Tom sooner rather than later. And Harry needed training – probably more than Sirius would allow if he knew the reason for it. But wasn't Harry's core unbound? Albus remembered how powerful Harry had been as a mere babe – everybody in the Order had heard James boast of Harry turning into a puppy at four months. Harry was a powerful wizard and he would need someone who understood that power – who was just as powerful – someone like Albus.
He smiled.
He would do all he could to train Harry to fight Tom and he could do it all in the guise of helping Harry control his power so Sirius didn't worry that he was forcing the issue of Harry fighting Tom. He felt a touch of satisfaction fill him. He nudged Fawkes who flew back to his perch, and hurried back to his desk to start making plans for Harry's education but he stopped short at the sight of the report.
The front parchment with its seal of the Ministry stared up at him. Within was the truth of what Harry had suffered because of the decisions Albus had made. But he needed read it; he needed to understand the damage to Harry's confidence and what would need to be done to correct that.
Albus sat down at his desk, gathered his courage and opened the report.
"Oh, Harry…my poor boy."
XXXX
Severus Snape prided himself that his behaviour was the epitome of everything Slytherin. He might only be a halfblood but he comported himself with the pureblood manners instilled in him by his mother and the cunning that dealing with his bigoted and intolerant muggle father had required. Even his obvious less than Slytherin behaviour – openly deriding the Gryffindors and specifically the Boy Who Lived, maintaining a stern deportment – all were a choice designed for a Slytherin purpose. However, sitting in front of the wireless listening to the early evening news report of the Wizengamot session, Severus's calm Slytherin mask was completely destroyed – his only boon that he was alone with no-one to witness his lack of composure (wide eyes, gaping mouth, pale face broken only by the slashes of red rage upon his cheeks) as he absorbed the shocking news.
Sirius Black was Lord Black. Black! Potter was Lord Potter, had been adopted by Black, and was now the Heir of the House of Black. The Longbottom and Potter alliance was restored. It was blow after blow as the inane commentator waffled on about how handsome Black had looked in leather pants and wasn't it a shame that Potter hadn't accompanied him.
He waved his wand with a gesture that rather looked like the muggle equivalent of giving someone the finger (his father had been a rather coarse man), and shut the infernal machine up. The news had left him more than a little horrified as he remembered Lucius's hints that morning.
Severus snorted as he paced the small living area in his quarters at Hogwarts. If Black had called Judgement and stripped the LeStranges of their magic for wearing the Dark Mark he could understand why Lucius had bowed to Black. The Head of the House of Malfoy was nothing if not a survivor, a true Slytherin able to talk his way out of every sticky situation. It would be galling for Lucius to have to conform to the will of Sirius Black but he would do it if it meant keeping his magic.
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