These characters belong to J.K. Rowling, not me.

*Rating subject to change*

Chapter One: Onward

The newspaper crinkled in his hands as he untied the string that bound the pages together. Today's headline was not reassuring: DUSSELDORF BOMBED BY MUGGLES.

No hope; no hope at all, he thought to himself as he dropped the string in his lap to read. His eyes poured over the article, his lips twitching and hands shaking ever so slightly. What had the world come to? One hour is all it took to destroy an entire city.

With a sad sigh, Albus Dumbledore put it down.

War was happening. The seas had been brooding, the fires stoking for what felt like ages, but it was certainly happening now in what seemed like a torrential storm of flame. All those deaths; all the hundreds more that would happen. Merlin.

Those poor people.

The man swallowed and leaned back into his armchair, empty hands groping for something to do and ultimately finding one another. His thumbs made small circles, first forward and then back. With a dry mouth, Albus nodded to himself. Things were not getting any better for the muggles who were in open war, how could the wizarding world possibly make headway in the shadows? How could anyone win while Gellert's forces were working simultaneously with his muggle countrymen?

He leaned forward, a striking thought occurring to him. Was there any possibility Gellert was in Dusseldorf? Albus leaned back again with a frown. No damned chance. He was hiding somewhere smarter than that.

A deep sigh escaped the man's lips. He could not stay at Hogwarts for much longer. Things had been bad for several years now, but there didn't seem to be an end for the muggles and Gellert Grindewald was only getting more powerful. It was his duty to join the forces, to defeat the enemy. There was no one else and he knew it—no one else knew it, but he did and felt guilty for waiting this long.

He clicked his tongue and stood up, allowing the paper to slide onto the floor of his study in his rooms. He'd have a word with Armando at lunch; maybe find a time for a meeting. It was silly to stay. Surely Armando could see that by now. Surely it would be obvious that his place was no longer at the school. It wasn't right when students weren't coming to Hogwarts in the name of battle. Several of them had been lost, those young men.

The man swallowed.

Perhaps he'd even be given leave after the first term. There were others, others that maybe were injured who could take his place. It was just transfiguration, was it not? A child could do it.

He rolled his eyes. If only he could believe that. Where were all the geniuses, now? No doubt helping the muggles make devices of war. No. Albus shook his head. Merlin, he was in a bad mood.

He scratched the back of his head. Better get a move-on with the day instead of brooding over these awful circumstances. No one wanted him in such a hateful depression.

Gray robes were already lying over his bed, ready to wear. Albus went down the three or four useless stairs to the lower landing and flung them on without ceremony. No hat today; hats were for good days; good days and funerals.

The man didn't even look into a mirror before combing his hair to the side, free of product or water. Just grease from an evening's sleep. He looked fine, fine enough to teach a few classes to the future of the wizarding world. It was an important job, really. They needed him, didn't they? Well, they needed his mind. If only there was a way to transpose his mind into another body and let his skins roam about Europe in search of Gellert. That would be the ticket, wouldn't it?

He gave out a small chuckle. He was really losing it, wasn't he?

The little smile stayed on his lips as he collected his books for his morning classes. It was a shame that he started with first years this term: all they could ever talk about was what was discussed at breakfast. Although he had not eaten in the Great Hall that morning, he knew the subject matter that was to flood his classroom. Alas for them, he had lessons to plow through. Whatever anyone's feelings, life had to move on.

He hurried his way out of his rooms and down the corridor. The walk to his classroom was not far—it was the closest room of value to him. Why his office would be on the completely opposite side of the castle was beyond his comprehension. But as always, one continues.

It was empty when he got there, of course. Class didn't start for another ten minutes and what reason did they have to leave breakfast early? Even he who loved a challenge more than anything wasn't about to leave food before he was forced to. No reason for the rapidly sprouting teenagers to hurry for an hour of sitting and listening. Merlin, he even bored himself sometimes.

The books made a loud thud as he plopped them upon his desk. He took no time in starting to write his lesson on the chalkboard, his back to the room. No sooner had he written his first sentence than he heard some single pair of footsteps. He stopped for a second to wait for a similar thud on any given desk, but none came.

He looked over his shoulder to see which star student had made it to class first, but was surprised to see not a first year, but a seventh. Chalk still in hand, he turned to face the girl. He put on a pleasant smile, even if he didn't feel particularly pleasant. "Can I help you, Miss McGonagall?"

"I'm sorry to bother you professor, but I was wondering if we could schedule a meeting? There's something I would like to discuss with you."

The man blinked, a little puzzled. He cleared his throat and looked on the Head Girl with concern, "Has something happened?"

Miss Minerva McGonagall shook her head with a soft smile, "No, I was hoping you would help me with a…uh…" she looked for the words, "well I have a request. But I don't have time to explain it now. Which is why I would like a meeting."

Still perplexed, but intrigued, Albus nodded his head and reached on his desk for his calendar. His eyes skimmed over it all. "I have free periods tomorrow at nine and three forty-five. Would either of those work for you? I can also find time this weekend."

She bobbed her head slowly in thought, conceivably running her schedule through her own mind. "Four? I'll be coming from down in the dungeons."

He scribbled into his book the time and looked up at her with a serious nod. "Four will do fine. I'll see you in this room at four o'clock tomorrow."

"Four o'clock," she nodded while making eye contact with him and then backed away with a brusqueness that often accompanied the girl.

The man cleared his throat after she went and his first years seemed to magically begin piling in. Better get writing. It was going to be a long day.

R&R SVP