Author: Unspoken Tragedy
Rating: PG-13 for now, just to be safe.
Spoilers: All five books
Disclaimer: I own nothing. If I did I would not waste my time writing FANfiction and just write the fiction itself.
Summery: The war is over, the light side victorious. However, this victory came at a price. Nearly the whole Order has been destroyed and Dumbledore realizes the mistakes which took the lives of those who trusted him the most, and what that means for the future of the wizarding world. No slash.
Series: None yet
A/N: Wow, I'm actually writing a fic instead of just reading them. You should really be proud. This fic is mostly Dumbledore-centric, but Snape, Lupin and Harry also play large roles in it. (They'll be showing up soon.)
"You've got it wrong. You made a mistake.
Irreparable actions you can't erase.
Fallen off-track, there's no turning back
This time around."
They had won. Voldemort was dead, this time for real. The Death Eaters had either been killed or sent to Azkaban. The war was over.
As the trumpets sounded, so did the organs, victory cheers intermingled with broken sobs. This was their victory, a loss unto itself, for how could they go on this way?
So many had died, so many were lost to them forever. And it was all his fault. Great Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, had failed. Oh yes, this war had been won. But there were so many unnecessary losses…
His failures had destroyed them; the Order of the Phoenix, those who'd fought the hardest and sacrificed the most for the defeat of the Dark Lord. Each united, friend and foe, for a greater cause, for the salvation of the wizarding world. Systematically he had lost each, until it was just him alone.
They had each received the Order of Merlin, first class, of course, but what was the worth of pretty golden medals and names recorded in history if those that had earned them were too dead to care? They would be remembered as heroes.
And as heroes they had achieved a hero's true end, they had received the only true reward there ever was for a hero: a hero's death. Nothing more than that could ever be expected when one sacrifices everything. People are just too selfish and too petty to care what was sacrificed, who was sacrificed, as long as the ends were pleasant for themselves.
He could hear them still, their voices and laughter, echoing amongst the victory songs and funeral marches as if they were still standing here beside him. Sometimes, if he tried hard enough, he could even believe that they were still here. But then a careless comment was made or a letter of sympathy arrived with the post, and he knew: they weren't coming back.
So many things were going wrong now. Hogwarts was destroyed, as was the Ministry. The wizarding world had been dealt a serious blow, and was in a terrible state of disrepair. The witches and wizards left were forced to pick up the pieces, so small and scattered it was hard telling how they'd ever manage.
He'd failed them all. He'd played all the wrong pawns, sacrificed all the wrong men.
And there was to turning back. Yesterday could not be relived. The future can not cancel out the past. And although it is not entirely prudent to dwell on the past, it was therein where the answers lay. No, he could not undo his mistakes, no one could. But it was high time to learn from them. And so Albus stuck his wand into the pensieve to reclaim last year's memories stored within. Pulling out the silvery substance he lifted his wand to his head.
As all the memories flooded back to him he remembered exactly why he had put them in the pensieve in the first place. Yes, it was much easier knowing that you have failed, than actually knowing how you have failed. It just goes to show: ignorance is bliss.
A/N: Well that's all for now. I know it's a bit short, but to keep from ruining the prologue I had to stop there. Please take the time to read and review. Constructive criticism is welcomed warmly. So are compliments. ;)