Visions
Albus Dumbledore stood, smiling, apparently at ease, on a small rock island in the center of a lake. Dark, stone walls encircled the lake, forming a cavern that, oddly, seemed to have no entrance or exit. The lake, too, was somehow menacing, as though an unseen evil resided deep in the bones of the earth. If one was to peer into the murky depths of the water, they would find hundreds of bodies, seemingly asleep, their skin a pale translucent white.
Taking no notice of his melancholy surroundings, he took a crystal goblet in his hands and dipped it into a basin full of a glowing, emerald potion. He filled the goblet to the brim and nodded to the tall black-haired young man standing next to him (who had a very worried look upon his face).
“Your good health, Harry” he said, and lifted the goblet to his withered lips.
The instant the potion touched his skin he began to feel the pain. His vision swayed and he felt faint. His hands were like ice and his knees started to tremble. He downed the goblet and quickly refilled it. He drank, and his mind began to fog over. It was so painful! But he knew he had to keep going. He clutched at the basin for support and somehow remained standing. He refilled the goblet again, gulping down the awful concoction. Oh, how he wished it would stop! He filled the crystal goblet yet again and determinedly pushed forward. Why, again, was he doing this? He couldn’t remember. Still, he drank the mysterious potion until his knees gave out and his vision was overcome by a deep blackness.
However, in the darkness the pain didn’t fade. It stayed. There was no escape. How could he escape pain that drew its source from his own soul? It wasn’t a physical pain, he could not pinpoint it. But it was just as sharp and grew sharper still. It was the deepest feeling of self-loathing that he had ever felt! The guilt was unbearable. It only grew stronger and stronger as more of the potion was forced upon him and he was swept farther and farther back through his memories.
“I don’t want… Don’t make me…” his mouth formed words that he couldn’t hear. His ears were filled with a source-less buzz. All of a sudden, the blackness gave away to a familiar scene. He moaned and cringed away from it, but there was no escape. The vision continued.
Three figures stood in a small yard in Godric’s Hollow behind a quaint little house. They were all male and rather tall, with varying shades of gold or auburn hair, although two were several years older than the third. They were engaged in a heated argument, which didn’t seem to be close to any resolution.
“I don’t want to…. I don’t want to…. Let me go….”
“Don’t you understand!” the youngest spoke pleadingly, yet fiercely, “Albus, you cannot take her with you! You can’t give her away or leave her by herself. She’s in no fit state to move! This whole thing is ridiculous! Give it up, it’ll never work!”
“Make it stop, make it stop,” he moaned.
Albus opened his mouth to speak, but the other, more handsome young man beat him to it, “What do you know? You’re just a stupid little boy. Do you dare stand in the way of me and your brilliant brother? You know NOTHING! The entire Wizarding community will be better for this. We’ll change the world,” his tone changed from venomous to excited, victorious, “Wizards will rule the Muggles! We will show them their place! Why were we given these powers if not to use them?”
He finished, with a flourish, and Albus nodded in agreement.
“It’s all my fault, all my fault! Please make it stop, I know I did wrong, oh please make it stop and I’ll never, never again,”
“Think, Aberforth,” said Albus, more gently than his friend, “Ariana will not have to be hidden once we’ve led the Wizards out of hiding. Gellert and I will work for the greater good!”
“Don’t hurt them, don’t hurt them, please, please, it’s my fault, hurt me instead…”
His brother’s words were triumphant and confident, but Aberforth’s face said that he was not convinced. How could the “greater good” justify the crimes that must be committed? Suddenly, realization was evident in his eyes. A tear rolled down his face.
“YOU LOVE HIM!” shouted Aberforth, drawing his wand, “YOU LOVE THAT GOOD FOR NOTHING MANIPULATING SCUMBAG”“
Aberforth was cut violently off by Grindelwald, “SHUT UP! SHUT UP YOU FILTHY BLOOD-TRAITOR! SHUT UP! Crucio!” His face was an angry contortion, blazing with rage as a piercing jet of light shot out of his wand and into Aberforth. A heart-wrenching scream of pain tore out of Aberforth’s chest. Unnoticed, the terrified face of a girl peered through a window in the house.
“Please, please, please, no… not that, not that. I’ll do anything…”
Albus, watching his best friend cast an Unforgivable Curse on his brother, was hysterical. He drew his wand and yelled, “STOP, STOP!” but his plea was lost in the commotion. Frantic, he cast a spell at Grindelwald who was forced to release his hold on Aberforth. However, lost in his fury, he simply started the attack again. Albus leapt to protect his brother, but not wanting to hurt Gellert, was unable to do so. The three boys were lost in a haze of smoke and flashing lights.
In the midst of the vicious battle, nobody noticed a slim figure burst out of the house and race frantically towards the commotion. The fight continued.
“No more, please, no more!”
She drew closer and closer, anger and terror evident upon her face.
“CRUCIO!”
“STUPEFY!”
“REDUCTO!”
The girl screamed, though it was lost within the sounds of the duel.
“NO MORE! NO MORE! HURT ME INSTEAD!”
All of a sudden, everything happened at once: the girl lay limp on the ground, Gellert Grindelwald was running, and two brothers stood side by side, confusion, hatred, anger, and grief etched in their faces.
“KILL ME!”