Harry Potter- The New Prophecy

Albus Dumbledore

May 2009
No spell could reawaken the dead. Albus Dumbledore himself had said so. But here Harry was, standing in his office at the ministry, looking into the kind blue eyes of his old headmaster. The man looked no different than he had on the day of his death over a decade earlier.

Harry wasn't supposed to be at work today. As head auror, he didn't make it a habit to take off a lot of work. But today was a special day. Today he had promised to take James to his first professional quidditch game.

James Sirius Potter was Harry's and Ginny's eldest child, and he was just about as obsessed with quidditch as Oliver Wood had been. James had been begging his father to take him to a game ever since he could form proper sentences, but Harry's response had always been the same. "When you're older." But this time, five-year-old James had a response. "I am older," he had argued. "I'm older every day." In the end, Harry agreed, on one condition. James had to behave up until the game. If he did, Harry would take both him and Teddy.

James wasn't usually one to behave. Out of all the Weasley grandchildren, James wasn't the worst. That title belonged to George's son, Fred. But his behavior was definitely up there. James and Fred often worked together to prank the other cousins and had even gone as far as to prank the adults, too. The absolute worst thing they had ever done, however, was the time they blew up the kitchen at the burrow. It had taken weeks to repair the damage. No matter how much James promised or how hard he tried, he could never seem to behave. That's why Harry was shocked that his son had held up his end of the deal.

This past week, James had been better behaved than he had ever been before. He ate his vegetables without complaining. He kept his room nice and clean without being asked. He had even stopped pranking—well, almost stopped. He had been really, really good, and that's why it broke Harry's heart to see the crushed look on his face when he realized he might not get to go to the game.

Harry looked at his old and battered watch that had once belonged to Molly's brother. If he was lucky, he would be able to get to the bottom of this quickly and would be home in time to take his son to the game. But when was anything ever that simple for Harry?

"You seem troubled, Harry." Albus noted, his voice as calm and collected as it always was. He sat in a comfortable armchair in the corner of Harry's office, sucking on a lemon drop that he had found in a jar on Harry's desk. In all honesty, Harry couldn't help but wonder if it was possible that this man really was Albus Dumbledore. He looked and acted just like him. But then he reminded himself that this man couldn't possibly be Dumbledore because Dumbledore was long dead.

Harry slowly paced the floor of his office as he thought about the events of today. He had woken up in a good mood and went downstairs to make pancakes, just like he did every Saturday. He then had to listen to his son ramble on about the upcoming quidditch game for over half an hour before Ginny suggested he help her do the dishes. James had jumped up and rushed to the sink without complaint, while Harry took Albus and Lily into the living room to play. He was just playing blocks with Lily when the fireplace roared to life and Kingsley's troubled face appeared.

Harry thought about the tears in his son's eyes as he told him he had to go, and he felt a sudden burst of anger. He rounded on the man claiming to be his old headmaster and fixed him with a glare that he reserved special for those he was interrogating. "Who are you?" He barked.

Albus remained calmly in his seat despite Harry's sudden outburst. He didn't seem phased in the slightest. Instead, he merely smiled. "You know exactly who I am, Harry."

Harry felt his blood boil. "Enlighten me." He said. There was no way he could be who he claimed he was. It wasn't possible.

"I am Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore." Albus said calmly. "Order of Merlin, first class. Headmaster at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Part of the order of the Phoenix. Need I go on?"