Don't Let me Go

"He didn't want to leave for the summer," Albus finally said. "He wanted to stay at Hogwarts."

-A Potions Accident by Arualcopia, (chapter 3)

xXxXx

"Professor Dumbledore, is there any possibility that I could stay here at Hogwarts instead of going back to… there?" Master Riddle inquired with a tense face.

Albus understood. Truly he did. Young Riddle did not come from a good home – he didn't come from a home at all, in fact. Albus had seen what the orphanage was like, cold, sterile, ruthless. It was an amazement the boy had made it to Hogwarts at all, the professor mused. Especially since the boy had been there since his earliest days and Albus could still recall a time when children who ended up in orphanages before the age of six years would often succumb to some malady caused by a lack of affection or care.

But protocol was protocol.

"There isn't, Master Riddle," he answered.

Young Master Riddle's dark bangs dipped into his eyes then and Albus almost considered offering to trim them as the child said, "You've seen the orphanage, though, sir. If I go back there they'll take my things and pawn what they can and the rest will be taken to be used by everyone there. I'll be ill-equipped to study until I can go to buy new things in the fall."

"I hear what you are saying Master Riddle, but…" the professor sighed and kept his hand stiff at his side. He could not touch this child. Young Riddle was a prickly, jumpy thing and Albus didn't know how the boy would react if he did so. Likely, he'd attack. The boy was highly wary of adults and a loner among the students.

Closing his eyes in preparation, the professor said, "It would go against protocol, Master Riddle."

"I see," the child replied. But his lips were thin and ears flushed with an angry, embarrassed red.

Albus couldn't stop his reflex to reach out to touch young Master Riddle and attempt to comfort him then. However, the boy was quick and stepped out of his reach. "I'm truly sorry, Master Riddle," he murmured.

"It's not your fault," Young Riddle countered, but his tone was accusing and he did not believe the child.

The next autumn, Master Riddle returned a few inches taller with a gloom hanging over him and a new attitude toward his peers. He made quick friends of all his house and by next summer, Albus overheard from a pair of Slytherins that young Riddle would be spending his summer with one of the Black families. The professor was not fond of their sort, but if they wished to offer an orphan sanctuary he could not over the summer, then who was Albus to object?

Years and years later, when he was old and tired, Albus would regret the day he had to tell young Tom no. It was undoubtedly from the Blacks he learned of blood purity and in their zealous teachings, he found a connection and began to imagine a world that prescribed to those lessons. If Albus had been able to procure him a better stay, maybe Tom's passions could have been better applied elsewhere and not toward the destruction of half their world.

"Please sir, is there a chance I could stay here at Hogwarts for the summer?" Miss Prince pleaded with her Transfiguration professor.

Staring into her anxious face, Albus knew he could only tell her the same thing he's told all children before her when asked the very question she brought forth now.

"It's not something I can do, Miss Prince," he explained to her.

Flinching from the answer, the young Slytherin brought her fingers to her mouth and stared a long time at Albus as if she didn't know how to go about convincing him. The professor felt badly for this girl as he knew there was no way she could make him say 'yes'. He almost wanted to tell her so, but he knew even if he did, she'd still try.

So, Albus would let her lay out her case before he told her again.

"Sir…" she mumbled around her fingers. Then, as if realizing how she must sound to him, Miss Prince removed her hand and locked it behind her back with her other to gaze at him with galaxy-black eyes. "Sir, since – since my mother has died, Father hasn't been quite the same and I–" She sucked in a breath. "I know if I spent the summer elsewhere he'd be better off..."

"Are you sure? I know that family is of great importance to those grieving."

Her thin brows came together in such a way that her eyes seemed ancient instead of twelve. "Not to my father, professor," she answered with great confidence. "If I am there, he will only be enraged. When I visited for holidays he could not stand the sight of me. If I so much as breathed too loudly in his presence he -" She seemed to remember who she was talking to then and with eyes thousands of years younger than before, she whispered, "He told me I looked too much like my mother. He yelled at me."

Albus believed her, but he knew there was more to the story as well. He could recall Miss Prince sitting in the front of his class after she returned from Holidays; her face had been several shades of yellow and brown. Bruises almost gone, but not quite. If she had been a boy, he would not have thought twice, but Miss Prince was just that, a Miss.

"I'm sorry Miss Prince, but what you ask… It simply isn't done."

Lips parting to give a sad, tired smile, she threw her shoulders back and proclaimed him with youthful bravo, "That's alright, Professor Dumbledore, I'm sure I'll find a way to manage."

"Miss–"

But she floated herself out of his classroom with a speed inhuman and Albus could only shake his head.

The next fall, her face was yellow and brown once more; her eyes sagging with dark rings and she sat in the back of his class for the rest of her school days. He heard, the year after she left, from school gossip she'd run off to the muggle world upon graduating. Albus didn't quite believe it and feared the worst for the girl – that is, he did until a boy with eyes just as black and just as ancient turned up among the first years of Hogwarts eleven years later.

But unlike his mother, his bruises were not yellow and brown, they were purple, black, blue, green, brown and yellow. A mirage of colors to prove that in the end, Eileen had not escaped her monster but only traded one for another.

"Headmaster, I bet this isn't a normal question, but would it be possible for me to stay at Hogwarts for the summer?" Mister Black questioned with eyes downcast.

Albus gazed at the teenager with sympathy. He liked this one, he was trying so hard to make a name for himself – even against his family's wishes – that the Headmaster couldn't help but favor him. Mister Black was going to be something great, he was sure. Right now, though, he could see from the pallid tone of his skin and outbreak of acne on his chin that the stress of his situation was truly getting to him

Going against your family did little in securing a comfortable and recuperative summer. But as the Headmaster knew from years and years of teaching, you could not open Hogwarts to students for the summer. Putting aside his quill, Albus told the youth, "I can't, however–"

"Please–"

"Mister Black!" the Headmaster rebuked exasperated. Surely the boy could have waited to hear what would follow his 'however'? "Let me finish, hm? As I was saying, I can't let you stay at Hogwarts, howeverI am confident we can make other arrangements. I could write a letter to some of your friends' families to see if they wouldn't mind having you stay for the summer. Would that be agreeable to you, Mister Black? "

The boy grinned widely and Albus felt successful. This one wouldn't have to go spend his summer in terror or sadness or loneliness. He would get to stay with a friend and maybe, just maybe, he'd do better than what destiny seemed to have laid out for him and his blood.

"Thank you, sir!" Mister Black grinned.

Chuckling in a less than humble way, Albus offered the youth a piece of candy. "Lemon drop?"

"Thanks," the teenager accepted as he grabbed a few to crunch down on. "If you're going to send out letters, can you do the Potters' first? James's my best mate, you know."

Nodding, the Headmaster reached for a fresh sheet of parchment and began to write a letter to Mister Potter's parents.

Albus would get a reply gushing with excitement and joy, the couple had always wanted more children, but James was the only one they had and to be able to have another youth running around their home causing mischief seemed like a perfect way to fulfill that want. Albus was relieved they were so accepting of Sirius and were so willing to take a stray like him in.

He'd send the two home together that spring and by the next school year, Sirius looked much more at ease and comfortable with himself and everything else. He heard from the professors he was doing better in his classes and wasn't so quick to anger, either. the Headmaster felt he'd done well and that for once, one of his troubled youths would make it.

Unfortunately, things did not end well for poor Sirius. He turned out to be just as dark as his family and gave away his friend's location and then proceeded to murder several Muggles. It was a shame and Albus ended up almost regretting how hard he tried to do well by the young man that had come to his office asking for a summer sanctuary.

When he was proven innocent many years later, Albus was so happy, so relieved and so guilty that he wished Sirius didn't look at him as if he was a good man. Somedays, the Headmaster doubted he was such and that feeling only increased tenfold when the life he tried so hard to save was lost a second time to death.

This time, there would be no proof of innocence or chance for success. Sirius was dead and his only legacy would be the memory he left imprinted on his godson's mind for a long time after.

"Could I stay here for the summer, Headmaster? Please? I'll do anything," Harry begged as he twisted his fingers in his lap.

The Headmaster let out a heavy breath of air. "You'll be safer with your aunt's family, Harry," he answered.

"But…" The boy bit his lip. "I - sir, they don't really like me…"

Albus didn't quite want to believe it. He was willing to believe Harry's aunt was a stern woman and his uncle a no nonsense sort, but to outright hate the child seemed so wrong. Harry was Petunia's nephew and there should be some sort of familial love, if not fondness there for Harry. Rubbing at the bridge of his nose, Albus attempted to explain further to the boy why he needed to stay with his aunt and uncle:

"What your mother did to save you is a magic that still works and is strongest with blood family - your aunt - to have you stay elsewhere for the summer would put you at risk or someone else at risk."

Harry frowned at him. "Do I have to stay all summer, sir?"

"I can arrange for someone to take you for back to school shopping later in the summer," Albus conceded.

Harry looked little happier from this offer if the glint his eyes was anything to go by, but, nonetheless, he agreed, "I'd like that, Headmaster."

Letting a tired smile take his lips, Albus offered the child a lemon drop. "I'm certain it won't be so terrible, Harry, do try to make the best of it," the old man implored.

"Yes, sir," Harry whispered as he turned his head and refused the treat. "May I go now?"

Putting the bowl down, the headmaster nodded. "You may."

Harry took his leave and when he returned the next summer looking thinner than when he left school, and with dark bags under his eyes, Albus reminded himself it was for the greater good. Harry needed to stay with his aunt's family, no matter how much they might not want him. It would all be for the best in the end.

Or so he would hope until he saw what he'd spent sixteen years building up to come to fruition.

xXxXx

"Just this summer, sir. Please, can I stay here at Hogwarts?" Albus implored of his Headmaster.

Staring gravely at the young boy seated before him, Headmaster Black had to suppress a sigh. "No, I cannot young master. It's not how things are done."

"Oh," the youngster whispered, his auburn hair falling into his face.

The Headmaster held sympathy for this child, but what he asked for would only lead to more inquiries. And as all keen men knew, a wish once fulfilled would have to be granted again and again for every child after, or it would be a cruel blow to all those proceeding when he said no. Reaching across the desk, he brought a dish of small mints to the boy's attention.

"Do not look so glum, Master Dumbledore, I'm sure your mother will be very happy to have you home."

A shadow crossed his bastille eyes. "Undoubtedly, sir," Albus agreed.

(The "I won't be" went unsaid).

Before I get to the quotation, let's talk about the story itself. Did you enjoy it? Yes? No? Why or why not? Who was your favorite to read?

Now, about that quote, while this story and that one are about two completely different things, that quote did inspire the basis of this one.

As to why Tom Riddle is called "Master Riddle", up until the turn of the last century or so, that was how boys were addressed. And seeing as the magical world seems to lag a little, it seems likely he would have been called such.

Thank you all very much for checking out my story and pretty please review :)