Albus didn't linger. As soon as their bodies materialized in Lin's flat, Albus nodded to her and disappeared. Lin immediately set about packing her things. Her mind was swimming with doubt and insecurity; her thoughts and feeling conflicted. Despite her insecurities, she was still obeying Albus. Lin was torn between respect for a wizard who was tremendously powerful and wise beyond estimation and struggling with feelings of hurt and anger for having been used. She felt like a means to an end.
Lin was packed in under an hour. All of her luggage was piled on and around the kitchen table. It was another two hours before Albus returned, and Lin spent the time pacing.
"Please forgive me for rushing you, Lin, but the circumstances require that I circumvent the usual pleasantries."
"It's fine, Albus. I want to get this move over with as quickly as possible."
Albus tilted his head toward Lin's luggage. "Is that everything?" She nodded her answer while nervously wringing her hands. Albus said nothing nor did he lift a finger. All the luggage quickly shrank into minute sizes and floated into the outside left pocket of Albus' sport coat. He extended his left arm and Lin took it.
They reappeared inside a stone and timber structure that was clearly very old. The stone-walled interior was clean and sparse. There was one long open room that was already comfortably warmed by the flickering fire in the stone hearth. There was a single closed wooden door at the far end of the long rectangular room; it stood adjacent to the hearth. At the opposite end was a kitchen that would've been considered the height of Muggle technology in the early nineteen-forties.
The kitchen area included a large pantry that extended into the living/dining area. A few feet from the kitchen stood a rustic wooden table with handmade chairs that provided enough seating for four. Opposite the table, placed lengthwise along the wall, sat a wood-framed bed that was just large enough to accommodate two adults; at its foot sat a birthing chair that appeared old enough to have been used a countless number times. Next to the chair sat an antique and delicately carved wooden baby cradle.
"It's charming, Albus." Lin let go of Albus' arm and strode to the closed door. The room behind it was packed from floor to ceiling with wooden crates. A small pathway led through the room to a full washroom. Both rooms were obviously added magically, and Lin suspected that the hearth originally took up most of the wall on this side of the stone cabin.
Albus was oddly silent as he waited for Lin to get acquainted with her new living space. Lin emerged from her quick perusal of the washroom and drew her wand to get more light. With a better view of the small room, she supposed that the bed near the table had formerly resided in this room. She moved her lighted wand near the crates' labels, all written in Albus' neat hand. There were clean linens, toiletries, medicinal potions, potion-making supplies and ingredients, and even baby supplies. But the majority of the crates were filled with food items. Lin's breath hitched as the shock of realization passed through her; tears welled in her eyes. She holstered her wand and ran out to face Albus, who was waiting for her, still standing in the same spot as when he arrived.
"You're leaving me for good, aren't you? You're abandoning me."
"You'll be safe here, Lin," said Albus softly, almost patronizingly.
"I don't even know where I am. I assume I'm in a rural setting, judging by the accommodations."
"You need to remain isolated until the baby is born. This is for your own good."
"What if there's an emergency? Where will I go? Who will I call?"
"I have provided all the medicinal potions you could possibly need, and there are medical texts to help you if any problems should arise."
"And the birth, Albus? Do you expect me to attend myself?"
"I shall send a midwife to you at the proper time."
Albus' tone was so matter-of-fact, so nonchalant that Lin's feelings changed instantly from upset to furious. She strode toward Albus and slapped his face. "How dare you do this to me! How dare you treat me like a pawn!"
"I deserve that," said Albus pleasantly.
"Dammit, Albus!" shouted Lin with her fists balled at her side. "Just what sort of game are you playing?"
"A delicately balanced one."
Lin moved to the table and plopped down onto a chair. She wiped her tear-streaked face with the back of her hand, placed her elbows on the table, and laid her head in her hands. "You expect me to accept being abandoned here for nine months without knowing what's happened to anyone, and without Severus knowing he's a father?"
Albus moved to sit next her. He slid himself into the nearest chair with a grace that belied his advanced years and rapidly failing health. "It has to be this way, Lin," said Albus gently. "Voldemort has lost interest in you, but his followers haven't. There are some who distrust Severus, and if they found you with an infant, it would give them an opportunity to gain their master's favor. You and the baby would be killed and something far worse would happen to Severus."
"Worse than death?"
"You're still relatively new to the magical world, but I'm sure you've seen enough of it to imagine the possibilities."
Lin was silent for several minutes, and Albus allowed her the time to collect herself. "I never meant to fall in love with Severus. I didn't even like him when I met him. He could be so mean spirited. But then I realized there was more to him than he likes to show. There's more good in him than he'll admit to, and I can't help but love him. But much of him is still a mystery to me, and I wonder if I've made the wrong choice."
"Severus is a complicated man, but he is worthy of your love. Give him time to prove himself," said Albus softly, his voice once again a comfort to her.
"I can't give him something I don't have."
"Don't be maudlin."
Lin lifted her head from her hands. "You're abandoning me in a stone hut in the middle of nowhere, and you have the nerve to call me maudlin?"
"It's a delightful rustic cottage in a wholesome country setting. You're being protected, Lin, not abandoned."
"This is my first child. I'd like his father here for the birth, for comfort if nothing else."
Albus sighed, more from exhaustion than from agitation. He knew how difficult a transition this was for her. She had good reason to be both angry and frightened. "You know that's not possible."
"I don't think I can do this, Albus."
"You'll find the strength." Albus squeezed her hand, and she placed her other hand over his. "Love will make you strong."
"That's very poetic, Albus, but love can't stop hemorrhages, or infection, or any number of other complications. I need to be near a hospital."
"Lindsay Rose Gray, you are not a delicate Muggle and your baby is perfectly healthy. You have nothing to worry about."
"I have Severus to worry about and apparently Harry Potter as well. How could you involve a teenager in all this subterfuge?"
"It was not I who placed this burden on Harry's shoulders."
"Just what is so special about him?"
"That I cannot tell you, but I will say this: There is nothing and no one more important than Harry. He must be protected at all costs." Albus squeezed her hand again, his voice an uneasy mixture of authority and desperation. "Do you hear me, Lin? At all costs."
"Harry's too young for this, Albus."
"I know," replied Albus and in that moment all the guilt and concern he felt swelled within him and the weight of it all seemed almost to overwhelm him. Albus knew he would die soon and that knowledge didn't frighten him. It was his inability to protect the people he cared for from harm that so terribly upset him. He felt helpless and, in some ways, hopeless. A streak of arrogance ran though Albus' character; he accepted and admitted this flaw, but his profound magical abilities and intelligence justified its presence.
Knowing that he wouldn't be around to lead the good fight, to take the brunt of the enemies' force was too great a burden. Lesser witches and wizards would have to stand alone in defiance of Voldemort. Not a single one, save Harry Potter, stood the remotest chance of surviving direct contact with Voldemort. Even a witch with Minerva's raw power and acute wit would be little more than a distraction for him. There was so much at stake and Albus would be powerless to help. "Harry will do what I cannot. He'll do what needs doing whatever the cost."
Lin didn't need to be a Legillimens to see the pain in Albus' eyes. He was hiding a great burden from her. "What is it, Albus? I can see something's upsetting you."
"It's my burden, Lin."
"Sharing will lessen its weight." Albus burst into a fit of hearty laughter. "What's so funny?"
"I once said that same thing to a very troubled young man."
"What was his reply?"
"A silent angry glare."
"Would this troubled young man be Severus?"
"You're very clever, Lin."
"Not really, I just pay attention to people. Now fess up, Albus. Don't bottle everything up like Severus does. It's unhealthy."
With a barely perceptible flick of his index finger, a kettle moved through the kitchen and settled on an instantly hot burner of the aged, but fully functional stove. Two brown ceramic mugs flew out of a rustic kitchen cabinet and settled on the table; one in front of Lin and the other in front of Albus. Both mugs already had a teabag and sugar inside them; one sugar cube for Lin and six for Albus. The kettle began to whistle and Albus flicked his finger again. The kettle floated over to the table and filled both mugs with hit water. A small brown creamer carafe floated behind it, pouring milk into the waiting mugs.
Albus blew on his hot tea and sipped it before speaking. "I was in love once, and I made the worst possible choice of partner. He never returned my affection."
"We all make mistakes, Albus. There are more fish in the sea."
"Not for me."
"It's a terrible thing to be alone."
"Love isn't for everyone, Lin."
She was shocked that Albus would say such a thing. "Of course it is! This isn't because of your orientation, is it?"
"No, no, the magical community doesn't suffer from Muggle biases. We have enough biases of our own."
"Maybe it's just a fear of being hurt again. You need to pluck up some Gryffindor courage and try again."
Albus laughed, but it was a mirthless depressing sound. "I allowed myself to be blinded by love. I was so taken with his intelligence, his magical prowess, and his beauty that I ignored everything else. I ignored what he truly was. Thousands suffered and died because of my selfishness."
"Are you talking about the first war?" Albus nodded and sipped more tea. "You can't blame yourself for that. You stopped Grindelwald. You prevented countless deaths."
"I could've prevented all of them had I acted sooner," said Albus and Lin had never heard such venom and self-reproach in his voice. "People begged me to help, and I did nothing. My brother and I fought bitterly over my apathy regarding Gellert. Aberforth is a much braver man than me, and more selfless. He has a much shorter temper, but he's overall a better man. Aberforth attempted to stop Gellert long before he'd gained any political power, and it ended in a three-way duel between myself, Aberforth, and Gellert. My poor sister, Arianna, tried to protect Aberforth—he was her favorite brother, you see—and the poor girl was struck dead by a stray spell." Lin's breath hitched, but she said nothing. There were no words that could offer comfort. She squeezed his hand with both of hers to offer the only support she could. "It doesn't matter which of us struck the mortal blow. It was my fault she died; my fault that Gellert escaped, and my fault that he was able to amass such power. It wasn't until I could no longer ignore all the suffering that I finally did what I should've done from the start." Albus sat back, pulled his left hand free of Lin's, and wiped his tear-filled eyes. "I've carried that guilt for much too long."
"You can't punish yourself for an entire lifetime over a mistake you made as a boy."
"We weren't playing schoolboy games, Lin. We were planning the enslavement of beings we considered to be less than ourselves. We planned to dominate them for what we, in our arrogance, believed to be the greater good. And I would've continued my despotic quest had I not been so devastated over my sister's death. Aberforth tried to make me see; he tried to tell me that Gellert was also planning the eradication of problematic magical people like Arianna. My poor sister was unwell, you see; she was unbalanced. And Gellert considered her, and people like her, an embarrassment to the magical race. I was so infatuated with him that I refused to accept the reality of what he proposed. I refused to see the cruelty in him, in both of us."
"I won't try to tell you that you didn't do wrong, Albus. I'd be doing you an injustice if I tried. But I must ask; at what point have you punished yourself enough for your wrongdoing? You've done your best to right the wrongs you committed. What else can you do?"
"Not allow myself to forget."
"Self-abuse won't change the past."
"But self-delusion can cause the past to be repeated. I can't stress enough the importance of honest introspection."
"Albus, you have to stop being cruel to yourself over a mistake you made decades ago."
"I did not make a mistake, as you refer to it; I have a persistent character flaw that requires monitoring."
"You're much too self-critical, Albus."
"Life rarely offers up second chances, but I was fortunate enough to be given a chance to redeem myself, Again, I failed miserably. I found a piteous boy who'd never known love, and I thought I could change him. I thought he was cruel because he'd been treated cruelly. That boy's abilities were so profound that I saw myself in him. I convinced myself that with the right guidance, the right training, he would learn compassion and love. I thought attending Hogwarts would give him a sense of belonging, of comradery."
"Headmaster Dippet eventually saw Tom Riddle for what he really was, but I couldn't see it. I refused to accept the truth because I allowed myself to be blinded by love and pity for a poor mistreated little boy. My devotion produced a well-trained well-educated dark wizard, the most powerful dark wizard of all time. Lord Voldemort would never have come into being if not for me."
"You can't blame yourself for him, Albus. He was born a monster."
"No one is born a monster, Lin. We become monsters through circumstance."
"By choice, Albus, not circumstance. I met Tom Riddle, and he is most surely a monster. I've never met anyone whose presence radiated evil as that man's does."
"The person you met is barely human now. I knew him when he was an impressionable child; a child that was all too human."
"Riddle made his own choices, Albus. You can't help someone who doesn't want to be helped."
"Perhaps, but the moral of the tale is this: Not only did I not intervene when I should have, but I helped train the darkest wizard in history." Albus sighed and sipped at his tea. "It has taken me many years and many blunders to fully understand myself. I am a selfish man. I can't see fault in those I love."
"Well, I suppose you're really are as human as the rest of us," laughed Lin. "We're all blinded a little by love."
"But I am not like everyone else. I am the most powerful wizard since Merlin. And to allow myself to be manipulated by love is to allow a lesser wizard to wield me like a weapon."
"That's much too harsh, Albus."
"There is no greater force in the universe than love. There is nothing more profound, more mystifying, more awesome than love; it is powerful beyond compare. To seek love is, for me at least, to also seek power. I am a power-seeker, which is why I don't deserve love."
"How can you be so kind to everyone else and so cruel to yourself?"
Albus rose from his chair. The pleasant smile that graced his face didn't reach his eyes. "It's getting late dear. I must say goodbye."
Lin rose and embraced him tightly. "I prefer to say farewell. Goodbye is too final."
Albus kissed her cheek. The soft white whiskers of his beard brushed lightly against her face. He wanted to tell her why he chose goodbye instead of farewell. He wanted to tell her he was dying because he wanted to be comforted. Much like most everyone else Albus knew, Lin was deeply respectful of him and dependent on him for guidance and protection. But unlike most others, Lin's respect for him didn't border on worship, nor did she fear him.
In Lin's view, Albus was a man first and a wizard second. He had no fear of appearing human in her presence, and he knew she wouldn't hesitate to offer him the solace he sought. But seeking comfort would've been much too self-indulgent, and he didn't serve the luxury. Lin had enough trials ahead of her. She needed to feel protected. She needed to believe that Albus could keep her safe, so he remained silent.
"Goodbye my friend and confessor."
"Take care of yourself, Albus."
He smiled again and placed his hand under her chin before disappearing. Lin felt the same profound sense of lonesomeness and abandonment that she had when her family died in a car accident all those years ago. She began to cry, but mentally berated herself. She placed her hands on her belly and said aloud, "Don't worry, Niketas. Mommy will stop sniveling and get to work."