# THE DAILY PROPHET
**October 18th, 1985**
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## INNOCENT MAN IMPRISONED FOR FIVE YEARS - MINISTRY IN CRISIS
### Death Eater Found Living as Pet Rat; Sirius Black Declared Innocent
*By Barnabas Cuffe, Chief Editor*
In a stunning turn of events that has rocked the wizarding world to its foundations, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement announced yesterday that PETER PETTIGREW—long believed dead—has been captured alive, and has confessed under Veritaserum to betraying James and Lily Potter to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.
The confession exonerates SIRIUS BLACK, who has spent five years in Azkaban without trial for crimes he did not commit.
"This represents a catastrophic failure of our justice system," said Amelia Bones, Head of the DMLE, in a press conference late yesterday evening. "An innocent man was imprisoned without due process, while the actual criminal lived freely among us. We owe Mr. Black an apology that words cannot adequately express."
**THE FULL STORY**
According to Ministry sources, Pettigrew had been living in Animagus form—an unregistered rat—with a respectable wizarding family for the past five years. The family, who cannot be named to protect their privacy, had no knowledge of Pettigrew's true identity.
The investigation was prompted by the recent awakening of Charlus and Dorea Potter, grandparents of the Boy-Who-Lived, who had been in a magical coma since 1976. Upon waking, the Potters immediately challenged the circumstances of Sirius Black's imprisonment and demanded a formal investigation.
Under Veritaserum, Pettigrew confessed to:
- Serving as Secret Keeper for the Potter's Fidelius Charm
- Betraying their location to You-Know-Who
- Murdering twelve Muggles in a public explosion
- Framing Sirius Black for these crimes
- Living in hiding as an Animagus for five years
"I was the weak link," Pettigrew reportedly said during questioning. "I chose survival over friendship. I have no excuse."
**SIRIUS BLACK: THE INNOCENT MAN**
Sirius Orion Black, 26, heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Black, was arrested on November 1st, 1981, and sent directly to Azkaban by then-Director of Magical Law Enforcement Bartemius Crouch, under emergency wartime powers.
He received no trial. No legal representation. No opportunity to defend himself.
"It's unconscionable," said prominent solicitor Benjy Fenwick, who has been retained by the Black family. "In our rush to appear strong against Dark forces, we abandoned our most fundamental legal principles. Sirius Black spent five years with Dementors for crimes he didn't commit. That stain on our justice system won't wash away easily."
Black himself, interviewed briefly yesterday, had only this to say: "I lost everything. My best friend. My freedom. Five years of my life. But I'm innocent, and now everyone knows it. That's something."
An emergency Wizengamot session has been scheduled for October 25th to formally exonerate Black and charge Pettigrew.
**QUESTIONS FOR DUMBLEDORE**
Perhaps most troubling are the questions this case raises about Chief Warlock Albus Dumbledore, who supported Black's imprisonment and never publicly questioned the lack of trial.
Dumbledore, contacted for comment, stated: "I believed the evidence as it was presented to me at the time. I deeply regret that an innocent man suffered as a result of that belief. I will be conducting my own investigation into how such a miscarriage of justice occurred."
However, critics note that Dumbledore—widely regarded as one of the most powerful and perceptive wizards alive—should have demanded more rigorous investigation before accepting Black's guilt.
"Either Dumbledore was incompetent, or he was complicit," said one anonymous Ministry source. "Neither option is acceptable for someone in his position."
**THE POTTER CONNECTION**
This case has additional significance due to its connection to Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, currently at the center of a custody dispute between his grandparents and Albus Dumbledore.
Sirius Black is Harry Potter's godfather and was supposed to be his guardian in the event of his parents' deaths. His wrongful imprisonment meant he was unable to fulfill that role, leading to Harry's placement with Muggle relatives.
That placement is now under investigation by the DMLE following allegations of abuse. (See related story, page 3)
**WHAT HAPPENS NEXT**
Peter Pettigrew is being held in maximum security at the Ministry pending trial. He faces charges of treason, murder, conspiracy, unlawful Animagus transformation, and fraud.
Legal experts predict he will receive life imprisonment in Azkaban without possibility of parole.
Sirius Black remains in Ministry custody but has been moved from Azkaban to comfortable quarters pending his formal exoneration. The Black family has indicated they will be seeking substantial compensation for his wrongful imprisonment.
Bartemius Crouch, who ordered Black's imprisonment without trial, has declined to comment. Sources within the Ministry suggest he may face disciplinary action or even removal from his current position as Head of International Magical Cooperation.
*Continued on Page 2*
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## THE BOY WHO LIVED IN A CUPBOARD: SHOCKING ALLEGATIONS AGAINST DURSLEYS
### DMLE Investigates Abuse; Dumbledore's Judgment Questioned Again
*By Rita Skeeter*
While the wizarding world reels from revelations about Sirius Black's innocence, equally disturbing allegations have emerged regarding Harry Potter's treatment by his Muggle guardians.
According to sources within the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, five-year-old Harry Potter—savior of the wizarding world—was subjected to systematic abuse, including:
- Being forced to sleep in a cupboard under the stairs
- Severe malnutrition and denial of adequate food
- Physical abuse resulting in multiple healed fractures
- Forced child labor, including cooking on hot stoves at age four
- Emotional and psychological abuse, including being told he was "worthless" and a "freak"
"It's the worst case of child abuse I've seen in my career," said a DMLE source who wished to remain anonymous. "This child was treated worse than a house elf. And it went on for five years while he was supposedly under Dumbledore's protection."
**THE DURSLEY HOUSEHOLD**
Vernon and Petunia Dursley of Number Four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, are currently being held in wizarding custody pending formal charges. Their son, Dudley, age six, has been placed in temporary foster care.
Under Veritaserum, Petunia Dursley—Harry's maternal aunt—reportedly admitted to deliberately mistreating Harry as "punishment" for his magical nature, which she described as "freakish" and "unnatural."
Vernon Dursley, when questioned, claimed he was "teaching the boy discipline" and "beating the magic out of him for his own good."
Neither has expressed remorse.
**DUMBLEDORE'S ROLE**
Most troubling is the role of Albus Dumbledore, who placed Harry with the Dursleys and served as his magical guardian.
According to Ministry records, Dumbledore had "monitoring" in place through a Squib neighbor, Arabella Figg. However, Mrs. Figg's reports—when they existed at all—consisted of brief notes like "all quiet" and "no Dark activity detected."
Mrs. Figg, interviewed yesterday, admitted she had never actually entered the Dursley home or observed Harry's living conditions directly.
"I watched him at the park sometimes," she said. "He seemed... quiet. Thin. But I thought that was just how Muggle children were. I never imagined—" She broke down and could not continue.
**THE BLOOD WARD DEFENSE**
Dumbledore has defended his decision to place Harry with the Dursleys on the grounds of "blood wards"—ancient protective magic keyed to Harry's mother's sacrifice that required him to live with blood relatives.
However, magical theorists have questioned this reasoning.
"Blood wards don't require cohabitation," explained Curse-Breaker Matilda Hornsby. "They require connection. Harry's aunt could have visited him regularly at another location—say, with his grandparents—and maintained the ward structure. The choice to place him permanently with the Dursleys was exactly that: a choice. Not a magical necessity."
When asked why Harry wasn't placed with his paternal grandparents, who were alive (though incapacitated), Dumbledore stated he believed their condition was permanent and they would never wake.
"That belief," noted one critic, "proved spectacularly wrong. The Potters woke yesterday after nine years, and their first action was rescuing Harry from abuse. That should tell us everything about where he should have been all along."
**THE CUSTODY BATTLE**
Charlus and Dorea Potter are now seeking permanent custody of their grandson. A formal hearing is scheduled for November 6th.
Dumbledore has indicated he will contest the custody transfer, arguing that the blood wards remain necessary for Harry's protection.
"This isn't about what's convenient for adults," Dumbledore told the Prophet. "It's about what keeps Harry safe. The blood wards at Privet Drive are powerful protection against remaining Death Eaters."
However, Amelia Bones responded sharply: "No amount of protection justifies child abuse. If Mr. Dumbledore is arguing that Harry should return to the Dursleys after what we've documented, he's demonstrating exactly why his guardianship should be terminated."
**PUBLIC REACTION**
The revelations have sparked outrage throughout the wizarding community.
"We treated Harry Potter like a hero, like our savior," said Griselda Marchbanks, respected member of the Wizengamot. "And then we abandoned him to Muggles who hated him. We should be ashamed of ourselves."
Minister Fudge, in a rare show of decisiveness, has ordered a full review of child welfare policies and guardian oversight.
"This cannot happen again," Fudge stated. "No child—magical or otherwise—should suffer such neglect under our watch."
**WHAT'S NEXT**
The Dursleys face trial for child abuse, child endangerment, and multiple related charges. If convicted under wizarding law, they could face up to twenty years in Azkaban each.
The custody hearing for Harry Potter will proceed as scheduled on November 6th, with both the Potters and Dumbledore presenting their cases before the full Wizengamot.
And somewhere in all this legal maneuvering and public outrage, a five-year-old boy is trying to understand that the cupboard is finally, truly behind him.
*Additional reporting by Barnabas Cuffe. Continued on Page 4*
---
## OPINION: THE DUMBLEDORE QUESTION
### Can We Still Trust Britain's Most Powerful Wizard?
*By Elphias Doge*
For decades, Albus Dumbledore has been the moral compass of the wizarding world. The man who defeated Grindelwald. The Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. The Headmaster who shaped generations of young witches and wizards.
But this week's revelations force us to ask an uncomfortable question: Has that compass become corrupted? Has power—however benevolently wielded—led to the kind of hubris that allows innocent men to rot in prison and children to suffer in silence?
I write this as someone who has known Albus for ninety years. Who fought beside him. Who trusted him implicitly. But trust, once broken, must be earned again.
The facts are damning:
Sirius Black spent five years in Azkaban without trial, while Dumbledore—who had significant influence over the process—never publicly questioned it.
Harry Potter lived in abusive conditions for five years, while Dumbledore—his legal guardian—relied on inadequate monitoring and never personally verified the boy's welfare.
The Potters remained in a magical coma for nine years, while Dumbledore—who claimed to have consulted Healers—apparently made no serious effort to wake them.
These are not small mistakes. These are not mere errors in judgment. These are systematic failures that harmed multiple innocent people while Dumbledore pursued what he believed was the "greater good."
But whose good? And at what cost?
I don't believe Albus is evil. I believe he genuinely thought he was acting in everyone's best interests. But good intentions paved the road to Azkaban for Sirius Black. Good intentions built the cupboard Harry Potter lived in.
Perhaps it's time we stopped giving Dumbledore the benefit of the doubt simply because he defeated Grindelwald fifty years ago. Perhaps it's time we demanded accountability from even our greatest heroes.
The upcoming trials and hearings will reveal much. But regardless of their outcomes, one thing is clear: the age of unquestioning trust in Albus Dumbledore is over.
And perhaps that's not such a bad thing.
*Elphias Doge is a longtime associate of Albus Dumbledore and member of the Order of Merlin, First Class*
---
## LETTERS TO THE EDITOR
**DUMBLEDORE MUST RESIGN**
Dear Prophet,
After reading about Sirius Black's wrongful imprisonment and Harry Potter's abuse, I can only conclude that Albus Dumbledore is unfit for his positions of authority. He should resign as Chief Warlock and Headmaster immediately.
We cannot allow someone with such catastrophically poor judgment to shape our laws or educate our children.
—Millicent Bagnold, Former Minister for Magic
---
**IN DEFENSE OF DUMBLEDORE**
Dear Prophet,
While I grieve for Sirius Black and Harry Potter, I believe the attacks on Albus Dumbledore are unfair and shortsighted.
Dumbledore made mistakes—significant ones—but they were made in the context of fighting the worst Dark wizard in a century. War creates impossible choices. We should not judge wartime decisions with peacetime hindsight.
—Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress, Hogwarts
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**THE REAL QUESTION**
Dear Prophet,
Everyone's asking whether Dumbledore should resign. I'm asking a different question: Why wasn't there oversight? Why was one man allowed to make unilateral decisions about a child's placement without any review?
The problem isn't just Dumbledore. It's a system that gives individuals too much power without accountability.
—Arthur Weasley, Ministry Employee
---
**NEVER FORGET**
Dear Prophet,
My daughter was killed by Death Eaters. So was my husband. I have no sympathy for Peter Pettigrew and full sympathy for Sirius Black.
But I also remember that it was Dumbledore who organized the resistance. Dumbledore who gave us hope. Dumbledore who kept us fighting when everything seemed lost.
He made mistakes. Terrible mistakes. But he also saved countless lives. Let's remember that too.
—Eliza Bones, St. Mungo's Healer
---
*The Daily Prophet will continue covering these developing stories. Additional reporting on pages 5-12, including full timeline of events, analysis from legal experts, and exclusive interviews with members of the Black family.*
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**Coming Tomorrow:**
- **Interview with Arcturus Black**: The patriarch speaks about his family's ordeal
- **Expert Analysis**: What happens next in the custody battle
- **The Weasley Family**: How they unknowingly harbored a Death Eater
- **Azkaban Reform**: Calls for trials before imprisonment gain momentum
---
*The Daily Prophet: "Truth Will Out" - Est. 1743*
—
# The International Confederation of Wizards - Geneva
**October 18th, 1985 - 8:47 AM (GMT+1)**
The Supreme Mugwump's private chamber was one of the finest rooms in the ICW headquarters—a study carved from Swiss mountain granite, with windows overlooking the Alps and shelves lined with books in two dozen languages. It was meant to be a sanctuary, a place of contemplation and wisdom.
Today, it felt like a prison.
Albus Dumbledore sat at the massive oak desk—a desk used by every Supreme Mugwump since 1823—with three copies of the *Daily Prophet* spread before him. The British edition. The international edition. And the *Continental Sorcerer*, which had picked up the story with gleeful enthusiasm.
The headlines screamed at him from the parchment:
**INNOCENT MAN IMPRISONED FOR FIVE YEARS**
**THE BOY WHO LIVED IN A CUPBOARD**
**OPINION: CAN WE STILL TRUST DUMBLEDORE?**
He'd read each article twice now. Every word. Every accusation. Every carefully constructed narrative designed to paint him as either incompetent or malicious.
The truth, as always, was more complicated.
But complicated truths made poor headlines.
"Chief Mugwump?" A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. "The session begins in ten minutes."
"Thank you, Henri," Albus called, not looking up from the papers. "I'll be there momentarily."
The footsteps retreated, leaving him alone with his thoughts and the damning words spread across his desk.
*Catastrophic failure of judgment*, one article said.
*Systematic failures*, wrote Elphias—dear Elphias, who'd been his friend for ninety years and was now publicly questioning him.
*Either incompetent or complicit*, an anonymous source claimed.
Albus removed his half-moon spectacles, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was 105 years old. He'd defeated Grindelwald. He'd led the resistance against Voldemort. He'd made decisions that saved thousands of lives.
And now he was being vilified for... what? For making difficult choices under impossible circumstances?
No. Be honest, Albus.
For making choices that hurt people. That harmed innocents. That prioritized his grand strategy over individual suffering.
For becoming the very thing he'd once fought against: someone who believed the ends justified the means.
He picked up the article about Harry—Rita Skeeter's piece, naturally, full of lurid details and emotional manipulation. But underneath the sensationalism, the facts were accurate.
Harry had lived in a cupboard.
Harry had been malnourished, abused, treated like vermin by people who should have loved him.
And Albus had known—not the specifics, perhaps, but he'd known the Dursleys were resistant to magic. Had known they wouldn't be warm. Had known and placed Harry there anyway because the blood wards were more important than the boy's happiness.
*No amount of protection justifies child abuse*, Amelia Bones had said.
She was right.
The realization sat in his stomach like lead.
He'd thought—truly believed—that keeping Harry safe from Death Eaters was paramount. That a difficult childhood was an acceptable price for survival. That suffering built character, made one humble, prevented the arrogance that had consumed Tom Riddle.
But he'd been wrong.
He'd sacrificed a child's wellbeing on the altar of his plans. And now that child—that brave, traumatized five-year-old—was the center of a media storm because Albus had been too certain of his own wisdom to question his choices.
The article about Sirius was worse in some ways.
Albus picked it up, reading through the timeline again. November 1st, 1981: Sirius arrested. No trial. No evidence formally presented. No Veritaserum administered. Just Crouch's emergency decree and Albus's own certainty that the evidence was clear.
Except it hadn't been clear.
It had been circumstantial. Convenient. A neat narrative that explained everything and required no uncomfortable questions.
Peter Pettigrew, the weak link, the coward—he'd been there all along. Hiding as a rat. Living with a respectable family. Listening to everything. And Albus had never suspected.
Had never thought to question whether the finger in the rubble was sufficient evidence.
Had never wondered why Sirius laughed instead of protested.
Had never demanded Veritaserum be administered before a man was sent to Azkaban for life.
*I believed the evidence as presented to me*, he'd told the Prophet.
But that was a lie, wasn't it? A comfortable evasion.
The truth was: he'd wanted to believe Sirius was guilty. Because if Sirius was guilty, it meant the betrayal was simple. Meant the war was truly over. Meant Albus didn't have to keep searching for traitors and threats.
It was easier. Cleaner. Less complicated.
So he'd accepted it. And an innocent man had spent five years with Dementors as a result.
Albus stood, walking to the window. Geneva stretched below—the mundane city coexisting with the magical district hidden in plain sight. The ICW headquarters tower rose above it all, a testament to international cooperation and shared magical governance.
He'd built his career on institutions like this. On rules and procedures and the belief that civilization required order, structure, wise leadership.
But what happened when the wise leader became corrupted by his own certainty? When the order became oppression? When the structure protected the powerful at the expense of the vulnerable?
What happened was this: innocent men in Azkaban. Children in cupboards. And everyone asking the same question:
*Can we still trust Albus Dumbledore?*
He didn't have a good answer anymore.
A sharper knock came at the door. "Chief Mugwump, the session is beginning. Your presence is required."
"Coming," Albus said, turning from the window.
He gathered the newspapers, folding them carefully and placing them in his desk drawer. Out of sight. But not out of mind.
Today's ICW session was on werewolf rights—important work, necessary work. Legislation that would improve thousands of lives across Europe.
But his mind would be in Britain. On Harry, who deserved better. On Sirius, who deserved justice. On the choices Albus had made and the consequences that were only now becoming clear.
He straightened his robes—deep purple today, embroidered with silver stars—and walked toward the door. His staff was in his hand, his bearing imperious, his face composed.
He looked like the Supreme Mugwump. Like the Chief Warlock. Like the man who'd defeated Grindelwald.
But inside, he felt very old and very tired and very uncertain.
---
**ICW Grand Assembly Hall**
The hall was magnificent—a vast circular chamber with a domed ceiling enchanted to show the sky above Geneva. Representatives from 127 magical nations sat in tiered rows, each with their own space, their own flag, their own delegation.
Albus took his place at the center dais, elevated above the others, the position of the Supreme Mugwump. A position he'd held for thirty years. A position that commanded respect and deference.
Today, he felt every eye on him.
Not with respect.
With judgment.
The British delegation sat in their designated section—three representatives, currently engaged in what looked like heated whispered conversation. One of them—Marcus Carrow, a traditionalist from an old family—caught Albus's eye and quickly looked away.
The French delegation was less subtle. Madame Delacour, their senior representative, was openly reading what appeared to be the *Continental Sorcerer*, the headline visible even from the dais:
**LE SCANDALE DUMBLEDORE: L'Homme Qui Fut Trop Puissant?**
(THE DUMBLEDORE SCANDAL: THE MAN WHO WAS TOO POWERFUL?)
The German delegation wasn't reading newspapers—they were watching Albus with the kind of cold assessment that suggested they were already calculating political angles.
And the Americans—led by the formidable Seraphina Picquery's granddaughter, Sarah—were engaged in animated discussion, occasionally glancing toward Albus with expressions ranging from sympathy to schadenfreude.
"The session will come to order," Albus said, his voice amplified by the hall's acoustics charm. It came out steady, authoritative. Good. "We have before us today the proposed amendments to the International Statute of Werewolf Rights, as drafted by the Committee on—"
"Point of order," a voice called from the floor.
Albus paused. "The chair recognizes Representative Bashir of Egypt."
Rashid Bashir stood—a tall man in traditional Egyptian robes, his dark eyes sharp. "With respect, Chief Mugwump, there is a matter that must be addressed before we proceed with regular business."
"The agenda has been set according to—"
"The agenda," Bashir interrupted smoothly, "did not anticipate revelations that the Supreme Mugwump of this body may have been complicit in wrongful imprisonment and child endangerment. These are serious allegations, Chief Mugwump. Allegations that call into question your fitness to lead this assembly."
The hall erupted in voices—some supporting Bashir, others objecting to the breach of protocol, still others simply discussing among themselves.
Albus raised his hand, and silence fell. Mostly.
"Representative Bashir," he said carefully, "the matters you reference are domestic British issues, currently being addressed through proper legal channels. They have no bearing on this body's work."
"Don't they?" Madame Delacour stood now, her accent sharp. "You are the Supreme Mugwump. Your judgment guides this assembly. If that judgment is as flawed as the British press suggests—if you imprisoned innocent men, if you abandoned children to abuse—how can we trust your leadership here?"
"Hear, hear," someone called from the Spanish delegation.
"The Chief Mugwump has served honorably for three decades," countered Representative Yaxley from Britain, standing. "These allegations are—"
"Are supported by Veritaserum testimony," interrupted Sarah Picquery of the American delegation. Her voice was cool, professional. "Peter Pettigrew confessed. Sirius Black testified. The evidence is documented. This isn't rumor or speculation, Representative Yaxley. This is fact."
"Then let's discuss facts," said Vladimir Volkov of Russia, standing. He was an older man, scarred from his own battles with Dark wizards. "Fact: Britain was at war. Fact: Wartime requires difficult decisions. Fact: Dumbledore led the resistance that defeated You-Know-Who. Perhaps we should remember that before rushing to judgment."
"And perhaps," countered Representative Chen of China, "we should remember that war doesn't excuse everything. The Muggle phrase applies: 'The road to hell is paved with good intentions.' Chief Mugwump Dumbledore may have meant well. That doesn't mean he did well."
Albus stood silently at the center of the storm, letting it wash over him. This was what politics looked like when carefully maintained reputations cracked. Everyone scrambling to position themselves correctly—supporting or condemning based on their own interests rather than principle.
"Colleagues," he said finally, his voice cutting through the noise. "May I speak?"
Silence fell again. All eyes turned to him.
"The allegations you've read," Albus continued, "are largely accurate in their facts, if not always their interpretation. I did place Harry Potter with relatives who proved abusive. I did support Sirius Black's imprisonment without demanding proper trial procedures. I did make choices that, in hindsight, caused significant harm to innocent people."
The hall was utterly still now.
"I believed I was acting in the best interests of all concerned," Albus said. "I believed the blood wards protecting Harry were worth the cost of an unhappy childhood. I believed the evidence against Sirius was sufficient. I believed..." He paused. "I believed my judgment was sound. I was wrong."
Murmurs rippled through the assembly.
"The question before this body," Albus continued, "is whether my errors in domestic British matters render me unfit to serve as Supreme Mugwump. That is a fair question. One I've been asking myself this morning."
He walked to the edge of the dais, looking out at the assembled representatives.
"I have served this body for thirty years," he said. "In that time, we have passed landmark legislation on magical creature rights. We have prevented three international conflicts through diplomacy. We have built frameworks for cooperation that span continents and cultures. I am proud of that work. Proud of what we've accomplished together."
"But pride," he continued, "can become hubris. Confidence can become arrogance. And the belief that one knows best can lead to the kind of unilateral decision-making that harms the very people one seeks to protect."
"I will not resign," Albus said, and the hall erupted again. He raised his hand for silence. "I will not resign because I believe I can still serve this body honorably. Because I believe the work we do here matters. But I will submit to a vote of confidence. If this assembly believes I should step down, I will do so without protest. If you believe I can still lead, I will strive to prove that trust is not misplaced."
"And," he added quietly, "I will return to Britain after this session to address the custody hearing, the trials, and the consequences of my choices. Whatever those consequences may be."
He stepped back from the edge of the dais. "That is all I have to say. The floor is now open for discussion and, if appropriate, a motion for a vote of confidence."
The chamber exploded into debate.
Bashir was on his feet immediately: "I move for an immediate vote of confidence in the Supreme Mugwump's leadership."
"Seconded," Madame Delacour called.
"The motion is recognized," Albus said. "Debate will be limited to one hour, after which we will vote. Representative Volkov, you have the floor."
As the Russian representative began speaking—defending Albus, pointing out his decades of service—Albus sat in his chair and watched the democratic process he'd championed for so long turn its lens on him.
It was uncomfortable. Humbling. Frightening, even.
It was also exactly what should happen.
Because no one—not even the man who defeated Grindelwald—should be above accountability.
Not anymore.
---
**One Hour Later**
The vote was closer than Albus had expected.
67 votes in favor of his continued leadership.
52 votes for his removal.
8 abstentions.
A majority, yes. But barely. And a clear message: his support was not what it once had been. His reputation, carefully built over decades, had been damaged—perhaps permanently.
"The Supreme Mugwump retains his position," he announced formally, his voice steady despite the churning in his stomach. "We will now proceed with the regular agenda. The Committee on Werewolf Rights will present their proposed amendments."
The session continued, but Albus's mind was elsewhere.
52 votes for his removal.
52 representatives who'd looked at his record and decided he should no longer lead.
52 people who'd once trusted him and now didn't.
The number haunted him through the rest of the session—through the debates on werewolf employment rights, through the vote on expanding the lycanthropy research funding, through the diplomatic discussions about potion ingredient trade agreements.
All important work. Work that mattered.
But work that felt hollow when he knew what was waiting for him back in Britain.
---
**6:47 PM - Supreme Mugwump's Chamber**
The session had ended. The delegates had dispersed. The halls were quiet.
Albus sat alone in his chamber again, this time with a glass of Firewhiskey and the British Prophet's evening edition, which had just arrived via owl.
The headline read:
**DUMBLEDORE SURVIVES CONFIDENCE VOTE BY NARROW MARGIN**
**International Support Waning as British Trials Loom**
The article detailed the ICW session, the vote, the speeches for and against his leadership. It was fair, as far as these things went. Accurate. Balanced.
It still stung.
A knock came at the door. "Enter," Albus called.
It was Elphias Doge, looking older than his years, his expression troubled.
"Albus," he said quietly. "I wanted to speak before you return to Britain."
"About your article, I presume?" Albus gestured to a chair. "Sit, old friend. Though I'm not certain I deserve that title anymore."
"You'll always be my friend," Elphias said, settling into the chair with a sigh. "Which is why I wrote what I wrote. Because friends tell each other hard truths. Because—" He stopped, searching for words. "Because I've been complicit too, Albus. All these years, I never questioned you. Never pushed back when your decisions seemed... questionable. I supported you blindly because of who you were, not whether you were right."
"You wrote that we should stop giving me the benefit of the doubt," Albus observed.
"I wrote that we should stop assuming you're always right," Elphias corrected. "There's a difference. You're brilliant, Albus. Powerful. Well-intentioned. But you're not infallible. And treating you as if you are has done tremendous harm."
"To Harry," Albus said quietly. "To Sirius. To—"
"To you," Elphias interrupted. "This has harmed you too, Albus. Can't you see it? You've become isolated in your certainty. Surrounded by people who'll execute your orders without question. You've lost the ability to consider that you might be wrong."
"I know I was wrong," Albus said. "About the Dursleys. About Sirius. About—" He stopped. "About many things."
"Then prove it," Elphias said. "Not with words. With actions. Go back to Britain. Face the custody hearing. Face the trials. And for once—for once, Albus—admit that you don't have all the answers. Admit that maybe, just maybe, someone else knows better."
"The Potters," Albus said.
"The Potters," Elphias agreed. "Harry's family. Who love him. Who rescued him from abuse. Who are willing to fight you publicly for his welfare. Perhaps you should ask yourself: if they love Harry enough to challenge the most powerful wizard in Europe, maybe—just maybe—they should be the ones raising him."
Albus was quiet for a long moment.
"I thought the blood wards were worth any cost," he said finally. "I thought keeping Harry safe from Dark wizards was paramount."
"And you were thinking about the next war," Elphias said gently. "About Voldemort potentially returning. About prophecies and destinies and grand strategies. You were thinking about everything except what a five-year-old boy actually needed."
"Which was?"
"Love," Elphias said simply. "Safety. Family. The chance to be a child before he has to be a hero. The Potters can give him that. Can you?"
Albus didn't answer.
Because the truth—the uncomfortable, undeniable truth—was no.
He couldn't give Harry a normal childhood. Couldn't give him the freedom to simply exist without the weight of destiny and expectation. Couldn't raise him without thinking about training, preparing, shaping him for the battles that might lie ahead.
The Potters could.
The Potters would.
"The custody hearing is in three weeks," Albus said. "November 6th. I had planned to contest their petition. To argue that the blood wards, that my experience, that—"
"Don't," Elphias said. "Albus, please. Don't make this worse. Don't force that child through a public battle where his trauma is dissected in front of the Wizengamot. Don't make him choose between his grandparents and the man who left him in a cupboard. Just... let him go."
"If Voldemort returns—"
"Then we'll deal with it," Elphias interrupted. "Together. With Harry surrounded by family who love him, who'll teach him to be strong, who'll prepare him for whatever comes. But that's future Albus's problem. Present Albus needs to do the right thing. Now. Today."
Albus stared into his Firewhiskey, watching the amber liquid catch the lamplight.
He'd spent so long being certain. So long trusting his judgment above all others. So long believing he knew best.
Perhaps it was time to admit he'd been wrong.
"I'll need to think about it," he said finally.
"Think quickly," Elphias advised, standing. "Because every day you contest this is another day Harry wonders if he'll be sent back. Another day he can't feel secure. Another day you prioritize your pride over his wellbeing."
"That's not—"
"Isn't it?" Elphias asked gently. "Isn't this about proving you were right? About not admitting publicly that you failed? Because if it's truly about Harry's welfare, the choice is obvious."
He moved to the door, then paused. "I love you, old friend. But love means telling you when you're wrong. And you're wrong about this. Please. For once. Admit it before it's too late."
He left, closing the door softly behind him.
Albus sat alone with his thoughts, his Firewhiskey, and the evening Prophet.
52 votes for his removal.
*Can we still trust Dumbledore?*
Harry in a cupboard.
Sirius in Azkaban.
The Potters fighting for their grandson.
And Albus, sitting in a tower in Geneva, wondering when exactly he'd stopped being the hero and become the obstacle.
He pulled out parchment and quill.
*Dear Amelia,*
He stared at the blank page for a long moment.
Then, slowly, he began to write.
Not a defense. Not a justification.
But perhaps—finally—an acknowledgment.
That he'd been wrong.
That Harry deserved better.
That it was time to step aside and let family do what family did best:
Love. Protect. Heal.
Even if it meant admitting that Albus Dumbledore, defeater of Grindelwald, Supreme Mugwump, Chief Warlock—
Had failed the one person who'd needed him most.
The letter took him three hours to write.
But when he finally sealed it and sent it by owl to Britain, he felt—for the first time in years—like he'd made the right choice.
Even if it was far, far too late.
---
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