Closest To Heaven That I'll Ever Be

1. I don't want the world to see me

I was the one who was always there.

Not at the centre of it all. Not the name splashed across the front page of the Daily Prophet, or the face people whispered about in the corridors of Hogwarts. I wasn't the one people pointed at in Diagon Alley, nor the one whose story would eventually be written into history books and taught to generations of witches and wizards who hadn't even been born when the war ended.

I was simply... there.

Always somewhere in the background.

Always helping in whatever way I could.

Sometimes that meant tending to someone who had been hurt. Sometimes it meant standing beside my friends with my wand raised while curses flew past our heads. Sometimes it meant finding the answer to a problem before anyone else even realised there was a problem.

And sometimes it meant nothing more than sitting beside someone who was terrified and making sure they didn't have to be terrified alone.

I was good at that.

Being there.

Listening.

Picking up the pieces after everyone else had done the dramatic part.

If Harry came back from some ridiculous adventure bleeding, I was usually the one finding bandages or healing potions.

If Hermione had worked herself into a state because she couldn't solve something, I'd sit beside her for hours and quietly go through books until we found what she was looking for.

If Ron was furious about something, I'd let him rant until he ran out of steam, even when half of what he was saying made absolutely no sense.

I learned very quickly that people remembered the person who fought the troll.

They remembered the person who killed the Basilisk.

They remembered the person who stood in front of Voldemort.

They didn't always remember the person standing two feet away making sure everyone else survived long enough to do those things.

But no one ever noticed.

Okay.

That's a little dramatic.

It's not that no one noticed me.

People knew I existed.

Professors knew my name.

Students knew who I was.

I wasn't wandering around Hogwarts like some invisible ghost that everyone somehow forgot to acknowledge.

Although, being a Dumbledore, you'd be surprised how often I wished I could.

There are certain expectations that come with that surname.

People hear Dumbledore and immediately expect greatness.

Wisdom.

Power.

Mystery.

Possibly an unhealthy interest in elaborate robes.

I didn't particularly want any of that.

I didn't want people watching me because of who my family was.

I didn't want whispers following me down corridors.

I didn't want professors comparing my work to my uncle's or students asking whether I knew some great secret about Albus Dumbledore that nobody else did.