Year Six - Chapter Twenty-Two

People feared what they could not understand. Children feared that which stood unknown at the edge of their existence. I could pinpoint the difference between those who read the Daily Prophet and those who didn't by the frightened stares, the trembling gasps, the awkward shuffling of feet to make way for the likes of me. This wasn't respect, but fear. Fear that I'd find them guilty, fear that they'd be judged, and found wanting.

Shade Umbrus - Hogwarts' Champion and Righteous Protector of the Wizarding World!

by Rita Skeeter

The Daily Prophet's headlines, and most of the columns, dealt with the actions and the reactions. Who would have guessed that the International Community at large would be incensed by what seemed like a random act of self-justice?

No trial, no proof, only one man's words to condemn many to their death-is this really the justice that the Wizengamot seeks to uphold?

The headlines of the international newspapers were delivering a different tune, one which painted a grisly light, probably out of the ignorance of the situation, or because they couldn't do much more than lament how justice was dying. Well, that was what one got when justice actually turned its head and ignored criminals that didn't have the backing of powerful families, I reckoned.

This was the justice of the muggleborn; the justice of the Light-side that finally felt vindicated after the countless years of having to suffer in silence Death Eaters allowed to walk freely around.

Yet, even as I mused that, I couldn't help but stare ahead. Once Christmas vacation was over, I could get Helga Hufflepuff's cup from the vault through Draco's help, and destroy it. Then, all that would remain would be Harry Potter's impromptu shard. It wouldn't be much of a problem; I could just wait. Eventually, he'd die of old age.

And the Dark Lord would not resurface again.

I smiled as I flipped through the newspapers while in the library. In the silence of a lack of students, there was peace if not for the fluttering of books. My breathing grew even, and then, ever so gently, I realized that for the very first time I was feeling at ease and at peace.

I snorted as I stretched after a few hours of reading, and then walked out after bidding goodbye to the fluttering books high in the air.

I'd be having Christmas at the Hog's Head this year; so I just had to walk down a few floors, take the secret passage, and be by the Hog's Head in time for the night service. At least, that had been the last part of my plan. There was another part to it, one that I had to do in the meantime.

"Since I cannot ignore the likes of you, I won't," I acquiesced from the depths of the Hall of Shadows, my eyes glued to the Elder Wand, held in my left hand. "Whether real or not-your history's a bloody one, ain't it? Can't run the risk of letting your power get to my head," I didn't hesitate. I didn't hesitate, not even in the slightest, and threw the wand into the crackling fires of the chimney. There it began to sizzle, and fizzle.

My right hand clenched around my own wand, and as I pointed it at the chimney, I gritted my teeth. "This hurts me more than it hurts you, but things like you-things powerful, and bloody, they're better off...gone."

The chimney roared as the flames turned purplish, greenish and then white, a brilliant whiteness that temporarily blinded me to the sight of the wand fuming and finally shattering in a show of countless ashes. I rubbed my eyes to clear the flash out of my retina, and as I carefully glanced around, I reckoned that nothing bad had happened.

There was just...

Well, there was just one last object that needed to be returned.

"I'll be holding on to this one for a little while longer," I muttered to the crackling flames, "Just a tiny bit, but I promise I'll be giving it back when the time comes." A large weight shifted overhead, Shadowdrake's dragon head shifting down to look at me, and at the proceedings with great curiosity. "The Invisibility Cloak, the last of the Deathly Hallows-the last of the over-hyped objects of magic. The stone and the wand, I've already destroyed," I looked up at the curious look of the great statue. "With the Cloak gone too, I wonder...would Death even go as far as grant me a boon for having returned the objects, or is it merely wishful thinking that holds no worth?" I patted the stone chin of the Draghul, and as it opened its mouth, I let the cloak be swallowed by the Gargoyle.

"Keep it safe until I tell you otherwise, Shadowdrake," I said as my parting words.

I walked out through the secret passage to Hogsmeade, and as the cold winds of December welcomed my face with their biting chill, I dimly realized I had forgotten to prepare Christmas gifts this year round. Preoccupied as I was, I had forgotten all about the ancient and honorable tradition of gift-exchange.

The Hog's head was in a strange state of fermentation. There were festive banners and happy, joyful magical lights flickering about. More than a few fairies hung about with their glittering wings, and as I stepped inside, the cold of the December evening melted right off, replaced with the warmth that could only come from a chimney that had been heating up the room the entire day, as well as the festive cries that died out, all of them, at my entrance.

There was silence in the Hog's head.

My eyes went through the crowd, meeting those of Aberforth and Albus Dumbledore, whom both were wearing strangely matching sweaters and pullovers that made me wonder if their mother had come out of the tomb, and then onward to the rest of the participants. There were many old and cranky wizards and witches, and amidst them I even saw the figure of Neville Longbottom and his grandmother.

I didn't see Harry Potter, or Sirius Black-or even Remus Lupin for what mattered. There were none of my close friends, now that I saw through the crowd. Only strange, unfamiliar faces that had more years put together than the sun in the sky, probably.

Hadn't he been a prisoner? Wasn't I supposed to free him from Malfoy Manor? Had they found him? Was he safe?

The thoughts rushed through my head, but disappeared as a firm and large hand grabbed hold of my back and pushed me forward. "The man of the hour!" an old man said cheerfully, looking drunker than the rest. "Where did you hide the lad until today, Albus!?"

"Tiberius," Albus answered jovially, "You've drank a firewhiskey too many."

"My brother makes the stuff," the old man known as Tiberius grumbled, "I'll tell you when I've had one too many." He kept pushing me forward, until I ended up going through a series of presentation that ended up seeing me come to a halt by Neville's side, the elderly people enjoying their Christmas cheer a bit too much, and thus leaving the two youngsters by themselves to the side.

"Guess a Christmas like this isn't bad once in a while," Neville said, trying to make conversation.

"I guess so too," I acquiesced with a nod. "Never seen so many happy elderly if not during pudding hour in a retirement home."

Neville's eyes crossed ever so slightly, and then he broke out in a small chuckle. "Guess that too can happen." He seemed ready to say something else, and I waited until he finally did blurt out what he wanted to say. "Thank you," he said in the end. "For...you know, what you did."

"There's nothing to thank me for, Neville," I answered. "I killed some really bad people, in really horrible ways." In a normal world, in a normal society, I'd still be sentenced to some years in prison.

"Yeah," Neville muttered, "It's strange but I always thought you would do something like that." I took a sip out of whatever liquid was in the cup in my hand, and then raised an eyebrow towards Neville's suddenly ashamed expression. "It's just-you've always been like this," he hastily added when the silence began to stretch into uncomfortably awkward territory.

"Like this, how?" I asked.

"You don't feel guilt at all about the things you do, do you?" Neville said, "My gran says you've got backbone, but I think you just don't care. If someone stood in your way, you'd remove them. That's...cold, I think."

"I've had my tough outer layer stripped more times than I can count on the fingers of my hand, Neville," I answered with a roll of my eyes. "I'm just willing to take a gambit, and a chance, when the decision of doing nothing can cost a lot more than what I am willing to give. Rest assured that beneath my tough, cold exterior lies a bundle of warm wool merged in hot chocolate and candy. You just need to dig a bit to find it, that's all."

Dinner was had but a few minutes later, and as the feast-like banquet lasted for more than an hour, it was only once we reached the end of the dessert that Albus Dumbledore rose from the right side of the table, the head of it reserved to Aberforth as the host of the proceedings. "Now, as we have eaten our fill and drank perhaps beyond our years-"

"Says you!" Tiberius Ogden slurred from the side.

"I think it is time for me to announce something publicly. I have resigned, as you may know, or suspect, from all titles-I will be enjoying a much needed vacation, a trip around the world to see its wonders-" he extended both arms to calm the chorus of mutters and whispers from those who hadn't yet been told about this. "Yet as I leave, I will ask you one favor as my old friends. I leave behind a remarkably headstrong brother, who can quite honestly take care of himself-" Aberforth snorted, "But also a son. A son I would like to present you, my pride, my joy and also my most incredible headache-inducing student to date."

He lifted his goblet, and pointed at me. Very slowly, I stood up with my cheeks heating from the embarrassment of being in front of such a crowd of people.

"Shade Umbrus Dumbledore," Albus continued, "I would like it if I were not called back from my vacation because the Ministry is on fire. Can I please ask that you all ensure that doesn't happen?"

The stunned silence lasted only as long as it took for Augusta Longbottom to remark, with a snarky and incredibly amused tone.

"Depending on circumstances, I'll be the one giving him a hand with an Incendio!" before breaking out in laughter, raising her goblet with a cheer.

"G-Gran!" Neville mouthed out, shocked.

As the cheers ran through the table, I awkwardly looked down at my reflection in the goblet's liquid in front of me.

My reflection smiled, eyes glimmering with incredible amusement.

For I was Shade Umbrus Dumbledore...

...the incredibly embarrassed Ravenclaw.