[This might seem as an 'filler' chapter to many. That the story is not moving forwards. Some will even say that I am only repeating those things which they already knew. How they know, I do not know. But this chapter was necessary from my understanding. It deals with the thought process and ideals of Dumbledore and will make it easier to understand the choices he makes and the decisions he takes in the future.]
[Dumbledore POV]
As I grow old, my life seems to be getting more difficult. At times, it feels, to me, as though everything is spiralling out of my control. This is one such time.
And yet, in these very moments, I remind myself of the lessons I so often preach to others. Never lose hope, for things will always turn for the better. If a door closes another one opens. And all that I say as a wise old man.
Perhaps I have not become as hopeless as I sometimes believe myself to be. I still have quite a few moves to play with and few more opportunities will surely arise in the future.
The complications that have suddenly arisen around me stretch across many fronts.
Antonio Olario. What a brilliant wizard he is. Powerful. Ingenious. Extraordinary. His control over magic is so fine that it is hard to find any flaw. His range of spells so great that sometimes even I feel belittled in front of him.
I do not remember much of him from Hogwarts. Surely, I remember his face and name. Benefits of having very high level of Occlumency.
He had been nothing special in Hogwarts. And I cannot think of how did he suddenly transformed so much. Suddenly. Or had he been hiding his true self? To hide such a genius is a difficult task. But it is hard to say what really happened. Maybe, I would find out about it in future.
Yet more significant than his brilliance is the nature of his character. Strong headed, stubborn, unwilling to see the cracks in his own ways.
Geniuses are often like this. They believe themselves to be right. That their methods can reshape the world.
Was I not like this once? Was my dearest friend, with whom I dreamt of changing the world, not like this as well?
Both of us were exceptionally gifted wizards, geniuses in our own right. And had I not turned away from Grindelwald and our shared vision, there was no one alive who could have stopped us. I must confess, though it pains my pride, that Grindelwald was the more powerful, the more capable of the two of us.
We wished to see wizards and witches dominate the world. To establish the rule of magic over the non magical. Why? For the greater good. Of course.
We envisioned a benevolent dictatorship, believing that democracy of the muggle world was a broken, inefficient system. Even the simplest decisions required endless debate. Even the noblest of intentions were dragged down by opposition.
And so, together, we set out to change all of it. But Ariana's death changed me. My sister's death broke me. It forced me to confront the fatal flaws in my path. If I believed a wizard better suited to rule the non-magical, then what separated me from the pureblood fanatics who despised me for my half-blood heritage? In that moment, I began to shift. My ideals began to change.
I turned to the pursuit of equality within the wizarding world, to the dream of harmony between our world and the muggle world. With time, both my goals and my methods evolved.
After Grindelwald came Tom. Tom Riddle. Voldemort.
By then, I had already become inherently paranoid. Trust did not come easily to me. It was hard for me to trust anything, or anyone. And neither did I trust Tom. I kept an eye on him, or at least tried to, while he remained in Hogwarts.
Yet despite all my caution, a small spark of hope lingered in my heart. Hope that because of the life Tom had lived, because of how he had been treated for being different, he might come to share my vision. My vision of kindness, empathy and most important of all forgiveness. That perhaps he would understand, hating and despising those who were different was not the path forward.
But this did not happen.
Instead, he funnelled all his pain, all his suffering, into anger. Into hatred. Rather than striving to bring peace to the world, he dreamed only of ruling over it.
And I have no qualms in saying this. He will never succeed.
Tom Marvolo Riddle, Lord Voldemort, as he styles himself, is nothing compared to the likes of Grindelwald. Perhaps, if he had spent more years learning, researching, and mastering magic, he might have become a true threat. But now? Other than spreading terror and causing bloodshed, he will achieve nothing.
If I stormed into his base with half a dozen wizards, I could most probably kill him. But something held me back.
No. It is not what you think. I do not expect Tom to redeem himself.
Despite all my kindness and my tendency to forgive, I know there are times when such mercy is useless. Tom will never change his ways. He does not deserve my forgiveness. He is gone beyond redeeming. Then what stopped me?
A plan. A vision for the greater good.
After Grindelwald, this is the first time Wizarding Britain has been thrown into such chaos. And chaos always gives birth to new ideas, new ways of life, new thoughts.
This chaos, born out of pure blood fanaticism, is particularly useful to my plans. I will use it to bring about the changes I have long desired for our world. I will end the poison of discrimination. Pure blood customs, relics of a bygone age, must be cast aside.
Voldemort's slaughter in the name of pure-blood supremacy will breed hatred in the common folk. Hatred not just for him, but for the very ideals he claims to defend. The customs and culture of pure blood will stand more tarnished than ever.
When he falls, I will have my chance. I will guide Wizarding Britain toward a better way of life. A culture founded on equality, kindness, empathy, and love.
Yes, some will accuse me, say I have allowed and will allow too many to die, that I could have spared these lives by acting swiftly. Perhaps they are right.
But as I have always believed, sometimes sacrifices are necessary for the greater good. For the greater good which will change everything, not for years, but for centuries. And for that future, the loss of a few hundred lives is, sadly, nothing.
I was confident in my plans. For all his ambition, Voldemort was not in the same league as myself or Grindelwald. There was no wizard capable of taking him head-on. He could only fall when I made my move.
And thus, I was certain that only when I chose to act would the matter be settled. Until then, I planned to let the tension simmer, to allow the hatred for pure blood customs to grow deeper and stronger. But Antonio… Antonio was the unexpected card.
He wields the power to face Voldemort directly. And his ideas are too extreme. He did not hesitate to kill Death Eaters. He did not hesitate to accept an honour duel in which he knew he would end a man's life. More troubling still, he revived a custom long abandoned by Wizarding Britain, a practice that should have faded into history. Honour duels.
His presence has almost thrown all my careful designs into a storm. And yet, I am not too worried. I will find a solution.
Perhaps, in time, Antonio can be made to see the flaws in his ways. Perhaps he can be convinced that love, not power, is the greatest force of all. But still, I need to keep an eye on this man. I could not be careless with Antonio Olario. And I needed to have an exact measure of his abilities with his wand.
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