Opportunity (Dumbledore)

It was the first week of term and some would say things were running smoothly. The professors all did but the paintings of Hogwarts reported differently. For years Albus had been using the paintings as a means to spy within the school and they were his secret success to always knowing what was going on and when. It was sheer stupidity and/or ignorance by others that this never occurred to anyone. How else would he have made sure Harry and his friends made it through all of his carefully planned yearly adventures? Albus had gone through extreme lengths to make sure his plans would be the ones to unfold and that was now being threatened by a pair of teenagers.

But where one door closed, another opened and this calmed his anger to a manageable point. Albus stroked his long white beard as he re-read the letter he had received via owl. This was indeed an interesting turn of events and he was in no position to turn down the boy. Just by the request for this meeting alone told Albus the boy was mixed up with Tom somehow and Albus was sure that by the end of this meeting he would know how, wether the boy wanted to tell him or not. Albus didn't need to crucio people for the truth. He was a master legilimens and could read minds as easily as a page from a book.

When the knock he had been expecting came Albus looked over his half moon spectacles and called, "Come in." His tone was warm and inviting like it always was when he was pretending to be the grandfatherly figure most saw him as.

Giddiness warred with anxiety and the teenager was not going to let a bout of nerves get the better of him. He was a Black and a Lestrange. He was not going to dishonor them or himself by backing out now. Silas had been the one to initiate the meeting with the Headmaster and it would be in poor form if he didn't show. As it was he still had to gather himself as he made his way up to the Headmaster's office. Never in his previous four years had he found himself climbing the stairs or had a single encounter with the man. He had counted himself lucky in that regard.

Oh, he'd found himself fascinated with the man his first year at the school ever since the welcoming feast. How could he not be? Silas had grown up listening about the man. Mostly it was slanderous speach by the Malfoys and their visitors. However he had learned to read between the lines and pick up on things not spoken. Knew that what he read about the man that he was a powerful wizard. There was no one who would dispute that fact. What he had found interesting was there was accomplishments but nothing personal at all. That was how it seemed to be for those with power. Never let anything personal out.

Halting on the last step, right in front of the door, Silas gathered his thoughts and made sure that his back was straight as he knocked on the door. Hearing permission to enter he did so cautiously. Shutting the door behind him, he gave the man a respectful nod. "Thank you for seeing me, Headmaster, sir."

Once again just as when he sent the letter off, Silas felt a thrill run through him. If it was fear or excitement he didn't know. Knowing it was polite to look in the other's eyes, Silas couldn't bring himself to do it. Eyes were the windows to the soul and he wasn't sure what would be reflected in his eyes. Until he knew himself he wasn't sure he liked anyone else knowing. Not wanting to be rude he kept his gaze a fraction of an inch to the left of the man.

"As I said in my letter I was hoping to speak to you about the offer you gave during the feast?"

It was interesting that it should be the child of a well known and feared death eater who would approach him, and Albus knew that caution needed to be exercised even with children. Maybe especially with children, and especially with the children like the one who stood before him now. The older wizard surveyed the boy carefully over his half moon spectacles with his bright blue eyes twinkling. To the outside world this was a normal occurence and only he knew it was due to the excitement he had about this meeting. The possibilities would be endless should he bring the boy to his side, and the cost very minimal.

But caution had to be exercised, now more than ever because there was the possibility this was all a ruse of Tom's. Albus didn't believe for a moment that Tom was any saner now than he had been before. Albus had took precautions to make sure that didn't happen. Tom was up to something, that was the only reason behind this sudden halt in his activities, and this boy could very well be Albus' key to figuring out what.

This all ran through his mind in a mere matter of seconds, and his warm, understanding grandfather expression never faltered. Albus rose from his seat and waved an aged hand toward the chairs in front of his large desk in an invitation for the boy to sit down. "Not at all my dear boy. I always have time for my students." His warm, and fake, smile was hidden almost entirely from view beneath his long white beard. I should be thanking you, his mind whispered ironically. "I like to think I am straightforward when I speak Mr. Lestrange, but I have been told on many occasions, by various witches and wizards I might add, that my words possess a certain, how shall I put it, riddle-like quality."

The old wizard gave a chuckle that seemed to be at his own expense and failure in this, but this was not the case and only he knew that. He watched carefully for any reaction while he retook his seat, carefully crafting a concerned look for his wizened face. "Yes, I read that and I must be forward with you in that, while your letter was unexpected, I am always happy to help a student with any predicament they may find themselves in. It is always a great feeling when one is able to help before it becomes too late, especially when it is a boy of your lineage." Every word was delivered carefully with just the right touch of concern, gravity for the situation, and thankfulness for the opportunity to help. Albus was, indeed, a masterful manipulated, and liar.

Never knowing what to do whenever anyone showed the slightest bit of warmth which only confused him, Silas gave a respectful nod as he sat down. Freezing, he quickly looked the man full on before averting his eyes to the previous spot. Forcefully he relaxed his body knowing that some people read body language as easily as written words. How could he not have startled though at the name of Riddle? There were two of them that were causing him problems. One of which he was going to resolve to get to the bottom of. Depending on the Slytherin's connection to the Dark Lord, he may have to try and find a way to outmaneuver from under the possibility of a second reason for the man to want to kill him.

He hadn't of needed the headmaster to remind him albeit unknowingly that he was in a dangerous predicament. Silas felt the tiniest bit sick when the man mentioned his lineage. His lineage was one of murderers and insanity. They didn't seem to be too careful when they were breeding lines together. His wasn't anything special that he could tell. If anything he could likely blame what he was doing on that if he really wanted. Who knew when his parents had decided to go insane and believed certain things.

Swallowing, Silas decided he should state his case. "Yes, sir. As I said, I believe my life to be in danger. As you know of my parents and their connections along with family tradition. It has fallen to the next generation."

Debating what else to say for now, Silas knew that he had to explain why his personage was in actual danger. He had been in actual danger ever since mother had come to Malfoy manor. He had come close to being on the receiving end of a cruciatous numerous times. Had come close again with his meeting with the Dark Lord. Pulling at the cuff of his shirt a little, Silas looked at the man's eyes considering if he was willing to trust the man at all before looking away again. "I had a.... conversation... with someone before I got onto the train to school. Somethings were implied."

The respectful nod had him feeling better about this meeting, having at first been concerned it would be a trick of Tom's. It couldn't be put past Tom to use a child to his advantage in this stage and in his sanity, and since Albus did the same with his own young followers he was still wary of the young Lestrange heir. Enough had evaded his knowledge and he was in no mood to oblige Tom in his plans. By the end of this meeting Albus would know the truth and he would act in the best interests of his own plans.

The boy gave him the sign he needed and Albus knew from his reaction that he knew who Albus referred to. He sighed heavily and put on a grave face for the boy's benefit while his calculating mind quickly determined the meaning behind them. While the young male might not have realized it, he had given Albus a great piece of information to work with. There was more than one death eater in Tom's ranks which could only mean that if the tradition had fallen to the next generation in the case of the Lestrange's, then it would have fallen in the other death eater families as well.

Which meant there were most likely several children in the castle now who had been approached by their parents on this subject. It also meant that if Tom were to learn of his connection to the newest Riddle family member, or of her connection to him if he hadn't already, she would be the gem in that new circle of his ranks and he would be quick to collect her. His very own protege and heir, so to speak. That, Albus could not allow to happen.

This his mind ran through in which mere seconds passed, and he spoke even as his wizened mind raced with the information. "This is very grave news but also very important information you have given Mr. Lestrange." He peered at the young wizard over his half moon spectacles, his hands coming together as he rested them on his large desk. The boy was avoiding his gaze, which made it impossible to delve into his mind and find the truth for himself. Maybe the boy required a little help then.

He continued to watch the young man, looking for signs of anxiousness and the tugging on the sleeve was either a of his discomfort or nervousness, and Albus took the opportunity to deploy his backup plan. He smiled benignly at the boy. "I always find that tea helps me relax in times of stress Mr. Lestrange. Would you care for a cup? Perhaps before we get to talking about what was implied in the talk you had before getting on the train." His tone was warm and smooth, and sounded nothing but helpful, but the end of his words clearly carried across the message that they would discuss that specific conversation.

"Yes, sir." Silas knew that he had betrayed as some would say, his felllows. While on a sense he had, it wasn't as if he was telling the headmaster something he hadn't known or couldn't guess. It was the logical conclussion that the statistics of a child from one or both sides of the family that contained a Death Eater would themselves become one was much greater then those from non Death Eater families.

While not yet willing to fully commit himself to that, Silas was wary of outright refusing to follow family protocol. Potter had followers and somehow seemed to always.be able to sway people to his favor. That was a useful trait to have. Yet he was still untested really. His past accomplishments meant nothing really. Except a few little things. It was why Silas made sure not to get on the Gryffindor's radar.

Slight surprise showed before Silas gave a polite nod to indicate he'd heard and acknowledged the spoken and unspoken. "Yes, please."

Politeness and respect was something he would be a fool to part with. Keeping his eyes on the old wizard, Silas was quite curious about him. Knowing the man was powerful, that the Dark Lord was at least cautious of him spoke volumes. As did the differences in approach they both had. While the Dark Lord ruled in fear, pain, and anger, the headmaster was more an iron fist in a velvet glove. He knew how to command loyalty, trust, and was subtle. Yet he could be just as dangerous.

It wasn't until he had grown up a bit and experienced a few years of Hogwarts that Silas began to truly respect and admire that. Which was why he was now sitting in the office playing this game. Looking around at the portraits then back to the headmaster he asked, "Their first loyalty is to you, isn't it? The portraits?"

The answer he received were not as forthcoming as he would have liked, but they were polite and respectful. Albus gave the boy before him a searching stare. It was clear from his observations that there was much thinking going on behind the polite words the young Lestrange spoke. It seemed there were more differences between the boy and his mother than Albus might have first thought.

Finally tearing his gaze from the young man, the wizened older male slowly rose to his feet to prepare each of them a cup of tea. Everything he did was in full visibility of the boy who Albus knew was no doubt watching his every move. The boy was too clever to not do it, and in that Albus was sure the Lestrange heir was exactly like his mother.

He paused at the question, intense blue gaze directed at the boy once again. "Ah yes. The portraits. They are loyal to Hogwarts, and to the Founders, first and foremost." He gave the boy a piercing look and went back to pouring the tea, steam rising from the cups as he added cubes of sugar to the boys and cream to his own. "They are most effective as a means of communication however, that I cannot deny young Mr. Lestrange."

Albus handed the boy his cup, giving a warm smile along with it that hid it's real meaning behind it. The sugar cubes served more than one purpose in his office, for they not only sweetened the tea but they also loosened the tongue. They were laced with veritaserum, and while it was not enough to have full confessions flowing freely from the teenager's mouth, it was enough to get him speaking in the right direction.

He took a sip of his steaming hot tea and made his way back behind his desk. Albus was no fool. He knew for a fact the boy was here not for protection. Yet. No the Lestrange heir was there to feel out the other side, and he had very little to offer the Headmaster at this point. He would need to discover whether the boy was of any use before this went much further. Albus contemplated for a few mere moments and set his tea down on his desk, sighing in a grave manner. "You are in many ways like your mother Mr. Lestrange. She too was a clever individual if I may say so. Though I dare say we can both agree there were mistakes made regarding her allegiance."

Albus pinned the boy with an intense stare over his half-mooned spectacles. "Would I be wrong in assuming there has been contact established between mother and son?"

Watching the man make the tea, Silas wondered how he knew he preferred his tea that way? It wasn't as if the house elves prepared and served tea. Not that the Ravenclaw had observed. As for the portraits, he gave them a brief thoughful look. Loyal th Hogwarts and the Founders. Not the headmaster necessarily. So it mightn't be safe to talk openly in the man's office or anywhere a painting was. That was good to know.

"I bet," Silas agreed. It did explain how the headmaster and the professors rarely were in the dark about the goings on in the castle. Was it confined to just Hogwarts? Slotting it into his puruse later category, Silas accepted his tea.

Blowing on the tea, he gave a cautious sip. Looking up and into the Headmaster's eyes,searchingingly at the comment of his similarity to his mother. His heart gave a stutter. Pride and the barest flicker of hope ignited in him. Knowing that he had something in common with the woman who birthed him aside from blood. That they had traits handed down which had him smiling before he hid it again. It wasn't as if his mother would see that as a positive.

Bellatrix would not see her allegiance to the Dark Lord as a mistake. Silas thought she had since the man had lost. To a one and a half year old. How pathetic was that? Taking another drink he swallowed then shook his head. "No, sir. You are not mistaken."

Pausing, Silas debated before continuing. "I found my mother had escaped capture over the summer. Apparently I have potential."

A nasty vindictive grin crossed his face recalling how his mother appeared jealous. That the Dark Lord would find the boys usueful. Clearing his throat he shifted in the chair with a frown. He still wasn't sure completely how he felt about his mother.

"Sir? It may sound impertinent, but why didn't you finish the Dark Lord last year in the Ministry?"

Learning the boy had indeed met his mother was not a surprise, and Albus put on a feigned look that was a mixture of both regret that he had been unable to help the child prior to the meeting of son and mother, and empathy that he in no way felt. Behind the fraudulent emotion he pretended to show, the old wizard calculated the various avenues he could take at this fork in the discussion.

There were many reasons why Albus was the master manipulator he was, and one of which was that he trusted none but himself, and the man never took any piece of information with carefully yet discreetly dissecting it. Every word spoken had a meaning, or several in some cases.

It was the shining look in the boys' eyes which had set off several alarms for Albus. It was there he had seen the same flicker of hope and pride he had seen many a time in Harry's eyes when being compared to his father. It was no secret that no matter the life led, a child would always first and foremost strive to meet the approval of those adults in which they admired. For Albus this had been another tool used to manipulate many, but in this case it was a hindrance.

It was enough that the young Lestrange male had grown up alongside his cousin, the heir to the Malfoy thrown, so to speak, and under the rule of Lucius Malfoy, one of Tom's strongest supporters. There was no doubt in Albus' mind that where Lucius had failed, Bellatrix would not. The witch was every bit as dangerous, cunning, and cruel as the papers made her out to be and that alone was good reason to continue with extreme caution. If the boy before him strived to live up to his convict mother's expectations, there was little Albus could do to make use of him.

This made the old wizard think of this meeting as more of a game than any cry for assistance on the young male's part. He was sure some part of the boy wanted out, anyone would, and that he had come to the one person he thought might be able to not knowing that Albus himself would plan to use him in much the same way, only without his knowledge. But more importantly he realized the young Lestrange was poking for information, or anything, to feed back that might earn him his mother's approval. This seemed to be a fork in the road for the younger male as well. It was both a smart and stupid move the Lestrange heir had made here.

It was not lost on Albus the boy did not mention his father, but the older man did not question it as of yet. Bellatrix had always been the most cause for concern when dealing with Tom's followers. A more powerful witch there might not have been until the arrivals of Miss Granger and Miss Riddle. When fully trained to their full potential those two would far surpass the before Black daughter, and even then there would be room for growth. There was a lot to consider and many things Albus had to make sure stayed under the radar and he had very little time in seeing it done. It was becoming more and more apparent that it was the next generation he would need to worry about far more than the ones who had come before them, and these children were proving difficult to stamp under his thumb. Yet teenagers were rarely accommodating and usually unruly.

He surveyed the boy across from him from over his cup of tea as the brew swept down his throat, reigning in his thoughts and focusing on the ones that mattered at the moment. It was a talent Albus had, to be able to see all the routes in the big picture and where each intersected, allowing him to choose the safest routes possible with little to no regrets. "Potential." He repeated the word softly, carefully placing his tea cup back upon his desk. Albus gave the boy a piercing look with his next set of delivered words. "It does not surprise me your mother finds you full of potential Mr. Lestrange. You are the product of not one, but two of Voldemort's highest ranking death eaters. While you have much to worry about now, I believe it is far less worrisome than if you had been found without potential." The unspoken fact that the boy would most likely be dead if he had been found lacking hung in the air between them.

The old wizard heaved a great sigh, allowing himself to become only what he wanted the boy to him as, which was a sad, tired old wizard with far too many troubles. It was this appearance which made others, including Tom himself, to underestimate him at crucial moments when he should be considered as deadly as even the Adder. "Alas, you ask something which only the universe can answer." The man folded his hands together in front of him atop his desk.

"I can only delay the inevitable Mr. Lestrange, the same as anyone else. For it is not I that the fates have decided to rest the destruction of Voldemort upon." This was said in such a saddened gone anyone would believe the Headmaster was truly sorry for the weight that had been placed on Harry's shoulders, a conclusion he knew the boy before him would come to immediately. It was nothing more than an entirely fabricated lie and tool of manipulation Albus had created which the entire world believed, Tom included. Albus relished in the fact that even from his office he could manipulate Tom, allowing the Dark Lord to create his own enemies who would destroy him and at the same time put Albus in a king's thrown.

Now it was the time to strike. Albus had been carefully considering and dissecting the information gathered from the boy, and with his years of experience had come to a conclusion he knew without a doubt to be correct. It really did not take any king of genius to put two and two together and come to the logical outcome. "From what I have gathered, you have had two important meetings over the summer Mr. Lestrange, neither of which I know the details of. However, I do know my enemies and know them well I do. You have been given a task."

The older wizard said this not as a question but as a sure declaration, positive he was not mistaken, and his twinkling blue eyes watched the boy closely for his reaction.

At the mention of what might have happened had his mother found him disposable, Silas' hand went to his chest unconsciously in memory. That hex she had thrown at him had had a nasty bite. That she could have placed him under her favorite curse instead of the mildly humilating one wasn't worth contemplating. What the headmaster hadn't said, Silas knew quite well. Failure to live up to his mother's standards was not worth contimplating which was one of the factors that had him first even consider coming to the headmaster after that speech at the feast.

At the man before him seeming to have aged before him Silas felt a bit of doubt. Had he made a mistake feeling out the headmaster? Was he really going to have to choose between Potter and the Dark Lord? Dumbledore had seemed so powerful and almost like the best choice. The Dark Lord daren't take on the headmaster full on. Time and again it had appeared as if Dumbledore had he wanted, could have finished off tje Dark Lord. Silas had assumed that the reason he hadn't was two factors. To give Potter a chance to avenge his family. And that being on the Light side, he'd still tried redeem the mad man.

'Fates decree?' The Ravenclaw filed that away to poke at later. So Potter had been destined to take on the Dark Lord. That explained so much and just for the merest fraction he felt pity for the Gryffindor 'Golden Boy'.

Caught unawares not prepared for such statement though he should've, Silas froze, eyes widening slightly before he could control it as he looked up into the man's eyes. Rapidly he went through excuses, lies, half-truths, denials, and so much more. Panic didn't cross his mind so much as a spark of apprehension. Had he really been telegraphing so much? The bit of relief he felt surprised him, not so much as the anger he felt along with some spiteful satisfaction. Oh, Silas was well aware of how twisted he was. He found great amusement that the headmaster was one upping the Dark Lord.

"Yes, sir." Silas answered swallowing, deciding to be truthful. If the man knew that meant that his expiration date moved that much closer. He already had a limited timeframe and any failures shortened it more and more. Gazing at the old man, weighing his options, he allowed nothing to cross his face as he inwardly debated. Not one for putting all his eggs in the same basket, Silas had wanted to remain nuetral for as long as he could. Before the inevitable which would make him have to draw a line.

"Failure is not an option. As you have already stated, had I not proven to be of some use, I would be dead already, sir." Choosing his words with care he cast a look at the paintings before returning to the headmaster. "Hence the predicament I have found myself in without my consent."

The fear of going to either his mother or the Dark Lord without anything had him taking the headmaster's unspoken offer when he heard it. The Dark Lord had already promised pain and that he would collect it. Having never relied on anyone let alone his cousin, Silas was not about to start now. Draco could not be counted on to get them out of the mess he had so graciously gotten them into. Having no compunction about 'selling out' his cousin. It was logical to realize that if Silas had been given a task that Draco had as well.

He blanched at the thought he voiced next. "My mother will likely ask for the pleasure of seeing to you having two less students and one less tormentor for Potter should the Dark Lord not get his way."

A gleeful excitement spread through the old wizard on the inside, though on the outside he continued to look sorrowful, and grave. Oh delightful that this young man had just given Albus all that he needed to fix some the newly risen problems in his detailed plans. For only a quick second, Albus thought to himself how unfortunate that Bellatrix had not thought to kill the young Malfoy heir prior. It would have meant a lot less trouble for the older wizard.

For when the boy had finally met his eyes, Albus had taken his chance and peered into the boy's mind, past his anxiousness and panic. The wizened old man thought absently how good the boy was at keeping his face schooled as he searched the mind for the information he sought. It was relatively easy to find, since his most recent question had it at the forefront of the child's mind.

The memory was clear as could be, and he could tell that it was not fabricated. Tom should be more careful. Then again, if he was it would not have been so easy for him to gain the information that he needed from the young Lestrange heir. So Tom wanted in the castle. There were a number of reason why that Albus could think of. Perhaps Albus should arrange for a welcoming party for his old pupil.

Pulling back from the boy's mind, he decided to not push further as to what the mission was they had been given. For one, he already knew without asking, though the boy did not know that. And for two, if he did not ask, the boy could not connect him to the incidents that would take place that same night. After all, how could Albus have anything to do with it if he did not know what, where, or when? The old wizard could have smirked, if it weren't for present company.

"It grieves me to hear that both you and your cousin have become players in this dangerous game Mr. Lestrange. I had hoped to keep most of the students out of this war." Albus heaved a heavy sigh, looking as if the weight of the world were on his shoulder. "However, it seems as if everyday more and more of you are getting involved, whether you like it or not." He considered the boy carefully over his half moon spectacles. "My boy, why did you not come forward for help sooner? You must have known you would be singled out sooner rather than later, given who your mother is."

Delivering his words in a carefully crafted concerned tone, Albus watched the boy especially carefully for any signs of not wanting to answer, while the small dose of veritaserum he had mixed in the boy's tea would have his tongue loosened enough that he might feel compelled to answer. Being the liar and manipulator he was, Albus was no fool. He could spot a leopard with the same spots quicker than most could blink, and this boy here was toeing a dangerous line.

Albus wanted to hear the boy's lie, however. If the boy could lie, the was. The wizened old man had no doubts that he would try. There was something there though, Albus could feel it. Something the had compelled the young Lestrange to try to play both sides, and he wanted to know what it was. It could not be out of sheer fear. If it were only that, he would be comfortable enough to do what was necessary to keep his skin on. No. There was something more at play here, and Albus would find out what.

We became players from the moment we were born, was what Silas thought upon the headmaster's comment. It had been inevitable that he, Draco, Potter, Longbottom, and all the other children born to certain families would be drafted into the war no matter their oppinions. No, what mattered was which piece you decided to be and how useful you were. While being a pawn was not necessary a good thing since you were disposable; at times it was a very good thing. A pawn had the potential to be oh so much more while being overlooked and given the chance was able to change. At the moment Potter was the Light's king. The most sought after and vulnerable, yet needed to be protected and dangerous when used by a brilliant strategy. The Headmaster and the Dark Lord were the queens. The post powerful and dangerous, the ones that could strike at long distances. Yet, the Dark Lord was or at least had been a king until recently. Granger and Weasley were knights. Those that were able to blindside you by moving somewhere unexpected yet other times direct.

Blinking, Silas gave the man's question some thought while keeping his face blank. The man honestly expected a child from a 'dark' family to go to someone from the 'light' and ask for help? Aside from being indroctrinated since infancy and continual behavioral lessons throughout childhood to believe one thing, there was the treatment one received upon entering Hogwarts. Children are cruel and quick to judge, more so if you were a wizard and which side of the war your family fought on. Not only was Silas' family Purebloods, dark, and in the inner circle, they were also the Lestranges. They tortured the Longbottoms, a light family, and bragged and were proud of the fact. It was a miracle Potter hadn't yet confronted him about the death of Sirius. Since he seemed so willing to play judge and jury with the Death Eater children.

"Would I, sir?" Silas glanced at the paintings, studying them. "Yes, I admit I knew by my surname alone I would have...difficulties with my peers and any possible future."

Considering, debating, Silas thought through what he might say. He recognized a couple of the paintings. He would have to remind himself to thoroughly go through the family histories. They were fascinating but also would help him know whom would have a paintings of certain past headmasters. Setting aside the tea with a polite nod and small smile of thanks, his lips twisted up a bit as he leaned forward. "And what would have happened if I had cried 'woe is me' to a professor previously? Have they ever shown that they could be trusted to be unbiased? Has anyone in a war situation aside from perhaps the healer whose nuetral stance is obligatory because of their profession?"

Shaking his head as he felt a bit of his old anger and resentment flare for a second. Silas took a breath as he relaxed shoving the unwanted emotions into a drawer for later. "The real question, I think, sir. Would be, 'Who would have been able to do something about it?'"

The room became stuffy with the rising anger from the young wizard in front of him. Albus frowned at the child. For that was all the boy was. A child. A child who was trying to play with men a game he could never win. On the inside, the older man was smug, for the boy had just proved his intentions without meaning to.

It was children like this that made this war so long lasting. It was the bitterness and resentment and anger that they continued to fuel the fire with that made this war a success, because at the end of the day each side was only proving the other to be right.

The children played their parts well in all of it for the most part. There were a few exceptions, like the young Lestrange heir, who questioned everything, mistrusted everyone, and showed little to no respect for authority. These few were tilting the tides in the wrong direction and were putting all of his carefully thought out plans in danger. They had to be stopped and taught a lesson.

"Putting aside your lack of faith in authority figures Mr. Lestrange," Albus fixed the young wizard with a disapproving gaze there, "I find myself intrigued by your stance. It makes me wonder. If this is what you believe to be true, then why come forward now?" His sharp blue eyes twinkled in that way that made one think he knew something they didn't and he watched for the boy's reaction, a look of mild interest in the answer on his wizened face.

It was time to turn the tables and get the ball back in his field. He ignored the questions presented to him by the young wizard. What good would it do to answer them if the child had already made up his mind?

"Because, sir." Silas replied as if it was obvious. Staring unwavering at the Headmaster. "No one could do anything. Not until now."

Everyone had been fixated on Potter. Everyone else came second. Then there were there professors. The general public and the Ministry were at fault as well with their fickleness. The whole wizarding world now had to believe that the Dark Lord was back. Now theyI would pay attention and possibly help if someone from the other side decided they didn't wish to play.

Licking his lips a bit of awe leaked through despite his intentions. "I heard what mum said she saw before retreating."

It gave credence to what the Daily Prophet had written. The Dark Lord and Headmaster had gone toe to toe. And the Dark Lord hadn't won. Looking away he added, "I prefer to be on the side that doesn't hinge all their plans in one thing."

Hopefully Dumbledore was different. Hopefully he wasn't like the rest of the world and looking at the boy wonder to 'save then all'. Those people who were too afraid and stupid to take their own lives in their hands. Shoving it all on the ahoulders of an angsty teenager! His mum's lot weren't any different piling all the blame on an infant and continually on the same person because their Dark Lord couldn't kill a child on his own. So, for the moment he would side with the one that he thought the wisest option.