Pity the Unloved

“Interesting,” Albus muttered, thumbing carefully through the tattered book. The late-night excursions to the library were extremely difficult to execute and if someone found him sitting in the Restricted Section, well, he would be gone by next morning.

Albus couldn’t believe how much valuable information was in those hidden books. The school should be teaching Dark Arts instead of the rubbish it fed the students every day. Who would ever need to know the correct use of Flobberworms?

He suddenly heard running footsteps and panting, and Elphias Doge appeared in the doorway, on the verge of collapsing.

“Al, hurry, we need to go! Marley is roaming the Halls and I’m almost certain his dratted cat saw me,” he gasped, clutching his stomach.

Elphias had been keeping watch for him for the past few months whenever Albus went to the library. He had been following him around like a lost puppy ever since they started at Hogwarts and Albus had proved his worth and intelligence. Elphias was not very opinionated about anything and was ready to do Albus’s bidding. He practically worshipped the ground he walked on and believed that Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore could do absolutely no wrong.

In a haste, Albus hopped off the mahogany table and grabbed the frail book. He planned on reading through it in the middle of the night while Elphias was asleep. Elphias did not know why Albus would keep going into the Restricted Section of

the library; he believed that it was to satisfy Albus’s curiosity.

Looking both ways, the companions rushed into the hallway and ran as fast as they could, using as many shortcuts as they could find.

That night, when Albus finally put down the book Crudelior, he couldn’t sleep.

His mind kept wandering to his sister, Ariana, and how she would be coping with her emotions.

Then, his thoughts flew to the Muggle boys who had attacked her. A surge of anger shot through his body as he tensed up. He hated Muggles. Naïve imbeciles

who were always afraid of the unexplainable! He wanted to get rid of them once and for all.

His rage being his last thought, Albus finally slipped into a fitful slumber.

One year later

Albus Dumbledore groaned disgruntledly as he stuffed his robes into his trunk. He could not believe that a person of his mental capacity had slipped up and gotten caught. The one night Elphias had not been keeping watch for him, Mr. Marley, the caretaker, had found him prowling through the Restricted Section in the middle of the night.

Albus had been so immersed in his research about Crudelior that he had forgotten to check the time. Mr. Marley had immediately dragged him off to the Headmistress’s office and she had not cared to listen to his excuses. She was strict and absolutely despised students who broke rules. Immediately, she had expelled him for being out of bed late at night, being in the Restricted Section of the library, and almost hitting a Stunning Spell at Mr. Marley in shock.

His frustration took over and he began haphazardly piling his possessions into his creaky, old trunk. Passing those idiotic O.W.L.s with eight Outstandings was useless. Sure, they had made his mother weep with happiness but there was no point for all that effort.

He could not do his N.E.W.T.s now because he had to go home. And to think, the examinations had been just a week away. His mother would be so disappointed in him.

As he cleaned out his dresser, he heard a soft tapping on his window. Albus looked up to see a vaguely familiar tawny owl. He quickly opened the screen and the owl flew inside in a hurry to avoid the cold air.

He carefully untied the letter from its leg before it soared off again. With dread settling inside him, Albus opened the formal letter.

Dear Albus,

I’m sorry. I’m so very sorry. I couldn’t do anything. You have to believe me that if I had been home, I would have done everything in my power to help.

I suppose you’re wondering what is going on. Well, I had been to the market for the day. By the time I came back, it was almost sundown.

I Apparated into our street only to find Ariana screeching her head off, floating in the middle of the air, crying, with bright sparks and lightning shooting out of her hands. Kendra was standing in front of her, covering her head and casting a Shield Charm around her body. She was holding a letter of some sort in her other hand.

I didn’t know what to do, I was terrified. I had no idea what had made her suddenly lose control. And then Kendra said something to try consoling her and in an instant, Ariana exploded!

She lost whatever fragment of control she had and a huge blast of lightning erupted out of her, shaking me to my very core. The sky was lit with the bright remains of her beautiful disaster but Kendra! Poor Kendra, who had stood so close to her daughter, was nothing but ashy remains.

When it was all over, the gravity of the situation hit Ariana and she fell from the sky, bawling her eyes out. I tried consoling her the best I could but all my efforts were futile. Apparently, Kendra had received a letter from Hogwarts, and she had been sobbing in despair. Ariana tried asking her for answers but Kendra could barely talk and this made her, Ariana, agitated and worried. She wasn’t receiving any answer and weeks of pent-up energy, frustration, and nervousness suddenly erupted out of her.

I suppose I can’t ask you to come back and look after Ariana, what with N.E.W.T.s coming up and all. I will be taking care of her to the best of my abilities until you come back.

I loved your mother, Albus. She was my best friend and confidante. I hope you are well and I’m very sorry for your loss.

Love, always,

Bathilda Bagshot

Albus’s legs gave out and he crashed to the floor. He could not believe it. His mother. His strong, brave mother was dead. No more. Before he could absorb the reality, the dormitory door was flung open.

His younger brother, Aberforth, stormed inside, fuming. “Expelled! You went and got yourself bloody expelled! What the bloody hell is wrong with you? Did you not know that Mum was relying on you to have a good career? Did you not stop to think what she would think? Did you not stop to think what Dad would think?” he shouted.

That was the last straw. Albus stood up from the floor and all his anger exploded. “Well they won’t care will they! Because Dad is in Azkaban and Mum is dead!” He screamed back at him.

“W-what?” Aberforth stuttered.

“What do you mean, what?” Albus growled in anger.

“Did you just say that Mum is … dead?” he asked, hesitantly.

All the rage suddenly extinguished from his face. Albus’s throat choked up. Tears welled up in his eyes as he gave his little brother the tiniest of nods. Aberforth could not control the waterworks. The tears streamed down his face and immediately Albus embraced him.

“I’m sorry, little brother, I’m sorry I didn’t think about you when I got expelled and I’m sorry I didn’t think about Ariana. This is all my fault,” he choked out.

“It’s not your fault,” Aberforth tried reassuring him, his eyes red rimmed from crying.

“Yes, it is.” Albus let go of him and tugged on his hair, pacing back and forth on the carpeted floor. “Aunt Bathilda’s letter said that Mum was holding a Hogwarts

letter which had made her upset and that made Ariana lose control. That letter was probably my expulsion letter. This is all my fault.”

Aberforth wrapped his arms around him, trying to give him some form of comfort. “It’s okay. Just look after Ariana until I come back, all right?”

Albus nodded. He’d be okay.

A feeling of despair settled in Albus’s stomach as the Muggle taxi pulled up at the main gate of Godric’s Hollow. The Muggle driver eyed him suspiciously as he struggled with the correct change. Albus shot the Muggle a glare, making him flinch back. He felt a rush of satisfaction. Good! That nosy git should know not to judge so quickly, just like those boys should have when they beat up his sister.

He stepped out of the car, slamming the door on his way. He began dragging his heavy trunk up to his house.

Albus suddenly halted. His sister looked forlorn, sitting on the swing. Ariana looked up at the sudden movement. She gasped, her hands flying to her mouth.

“Albus!” She ran to hug him. “I’m so sorry! I couldn’t control myself. I just—I!”

She burst into tears.

Albus rubbed her back, trying not to do the same. He finally managed to quiet her and sent her off for a bath.

He plodded down to Bathilda Bagshot’s house. The door was opened, surprisingly, by a boy around his own age. “You must be Albus. Gellert Grindelwald. I’m sorry for your loss.” Albus shook his outstretched hand.

“Albus? What on Earth are you doing here?” Bathilda asked, baffled.

“I got expelled,” he informed her.

“That’s terrible! So did my nephew, Gellert!” she motioned toward him.

“Really? What school?” asked Albus, curiously.

“Drumstrang. What about y …” their voices trailed off as they began down the street.

Two months later

“Look what I’ve been practicing, Al,” Gellert exclaimed excitedly.

He went forward and placed the squirrel he was holding on a barrel with nuts scattered over it. Albus looked on with interest. He really enjoyed this new friendship. He had finally found an equal he could speak to about his ideas. For the past few weeks, they had been exchanging plans for world domination, starting with the elimination of Muggles. Both despised them.

Gellert stood back, pointed his wand at it and shouted, “Avada Kedavra!”

Albus gasped as the squirrel dropped dead. “Here, you try.” Gellert put another one in its place. As soon as Albus said the incantation, Ariana ran in front to protect the squirrel. It was too late.

In a bright green flash, Albus’s sister lay dead on the floor. He screamed in protest as Gellert supported his weight. He couldn’t lose her. Not another person. He kept shaking her vigorously, screaming at her to wake up.

She wouldn’t respond.

On the day of her funeral, Aberforth marched up to Albus and punched him in

the nose. “You had one job! Take care of Ariana! That was it! I hate you! This is your fault!” Aberforth mustered as much contempt as he could into his voice.

Albus refused to get up from the floor and let his nose gush blood, the guilt consuming his soul.

“I can’t do this anymore, Gellert! I can’t handle the guilt on my conscience! I don’t know how to deal with emotions!” Albus screamed in frustration as they stood on the rooftop of Bathilda’s house.

“What are you saying, Al?” Gellert tried to reassure himself that it was not what he was thinking.

“You know exactly what I mean. I’m going to do it. I’m going to get rid of all my conscience! I’m going to perform Crudelior!” Albus looked deranged under the faint glow of the streetlights.

“Albus, we both know that Crudelior is but a theory. No one has ever performed it before. It was just a cynical idea by Phineas Nigellus Black,” Gellert tried dissuading him. However, once Albus Dumbledore fixed his mind to something, he would not let it go.

“Gellert, think about it. Don’t you want to be known as the wizard who managed to prove such an outrageous theory? Don’t you want the glory of being the only person present when I perform it? Well? Don’t you?”

The thought did appeal to Gellert.

Albus knew exactly what to do to convince Gellert Grindelwald. Ever since they had met two months ago and begun making plans to rule the world, Albus had realized that the only reason Gellert was willing to do it was because he wanted fame. He wanted the glory that came with being an influential personality.

Albus used this flaw against his easily manipulated best friend. He decided to test how much his partner actually cared for him.

You see, Crudelior was a theory by Phineas Black, who thought that if the incantation “lacerabis cor meum, inrita conscientiam” was repeated, the mind would begin believing it. This would cause the heart to be ripped out and also eliminate any chance of a person feeling remorse, hurt, guilt, or love. The heart had to be hidden safely so that no one would find it and destroy it. The performer would be invincible because he would have no weakness. However, the only way it would work would be if you had no one left in this world who would want to stop you from losing emotion, at that moment in time. This condition was the main reason no one was willing to perform it. They were terrified of finding out no one loved them enough to stop them.

But Albus, Albus knew no one would stop him. His father was rotting away in Azkaban, his mother and sister were dead and it was his fault, Elphias Doge was probably traveling the world like they had planned with no worries at all, his own brother hated him, and now Gellert had been easily swayed. Albus saw no point in emotions. No one loved him enough to stop him.

So he did it. He stood in front of Gellert, flourished his mother’s stolen wand, and began moving it in an arc above his head, muttering the incantation. It worked.

Albus screamed in agony as his chest split open. It felt as though someone was torturing his brain and yanking the emotions out. His heart was flung out of his body as though rejected like he had been outcast by his friends.

Gellert watched in awe and horror as Albus’s heart was enclosed inside Ariana’s portrait. His chest zipped back up, a faint scar at the opening. Albus lay panting on the floor.

He struggled to get up. As soon as he caught sight of Gellert, he raised his wand toward him and screamed, “Avada Kedavra!” And that was it. The boy whom he had begun calling brother now lay dead, his face frozen in a triumphant grin.

After that night, Albus went on a rampage, killing Muggles right and left. One day, he just disappeared. No one knew what happened to him. No one cared.

Twenty years later, as Aberforth hung up a portrait of Ariana in his new pub, the Hog’s Head, he remembered his brother’s words and wrote them down behind it. “Pity the living, especially those who live without love.”