Dumbledore's Mistake

Hi folks. Thought of this while working on some other stories and I couldn't shake it. Not real great, but hope you enjoy and as always, I do not own Harry Potter or in no way would have the smartest witch in a generation married to the walking stomach that constantly talked quidditch.

David Cameron, British Prime Minister, sat at his desk reviewing the summary documents that had been forwarded to him days before. The former minister Gordon Brown had placed a thick folder labeled Merlin in his hands on that fateful day in May. With a smirk he simply stated, "Good luck with this bunch," and vacated 10 Downing Street. Three months latter a plan had formed and a month after that it had been executed. His next meeting was going to detail the results of those plans and hopefully see the conclusion of this mess he was handed.

Leaning back in his chair slightly, fingers interwoven, and chin gently resting on them; he delved into thought before a soft chime broke him from his trance. Reaching out with a finger, he pressed the blinking button on the phone before replying, "yes, Maggie."

The voice sprang from the receiver slightly fluctuating from the electrical dampening created by the anti-eavesdropping attachments, "Your next appointment has arrived early, a Miss Hermione Granger. Shall I send her in or wait until the appointment time?"

"Please send her in. We have much to discuss. Thank you Maggie." The line went dead and Cameron slid the folder into the top desk drawer before his guest was sent in.

A slight popping of the door indicated the seal being released and the heavy steel cored door swung open to permit an average height woman with wavy dark brown hair in a sharp pantsuit and low heels. One of her hands clutched a soft-sided brief case that nearly matched her hair. Her bright brown eyes always caught his attention as she neared his desk. Rising to his feet he extended his hand to greet her. "Miss Granger, thank you so much for coming today. I hope that you have good news to report." Continuing to study her eyes, he caught the flash of disappointment and sadness in them.

"Thank you for meeting with me Mr. Prime Minister. We have accomplished the majority of our goals since our last meeting."

Waving a hand towards the leather chair in front of his desk he stated, "Please sit we have much to discuss. Can I get you anything, tea, coffee, anything?"

"No thank you sir. You are most kind. May I sir?" Hermione noticed his slight nod to reach down to the case sitting next to the chair and pulled out an additional thick folder and a laptop computer. "This if the updated data that we have received yesterday." Handing the file to the prime minister she deftly opened the laptop to punch a few keys before the screen popped to life. Extracting a long cord with a prism on the end of the cord from the case and plugging the opposite end into a port on the side of the computer a bright flash of light from the prism projected on a screen slightly over her right shoulder. "The operation that started two weeks ago has seen eliminated almost 99 percent of the magical population in England, Scotland, Ireland, and surrounding isles. Currently we know of approximately 300 magical humans still on the isles. Approximately 200 of them are sympathetic to the cause. In conclusion, we are currently searching for about 100 individuals, but we believe most of them to be non-aggressors, such as non-magical born and should not cause problems."

"Please excuse the interruption, but I thought that we were going to total elimination of the entire population including this Lord Must-Not-Be-Named." Cameron's voice rose slightly at the end of her declaration.

"Correct sir. His body has been located and confirmed dead." Hermione paused slightly before continuation. "The magical human population is devastated. We are working to contact the rest of the magical species such as the goblins, house-elves, and other magical species to arrange agreements and determine their populations. Our magical sensors can not detect them at this time, but we believe their total populations to be quite low as well."

Cameron leaned back slightly with a large smile on his face, clearly pleased with the results. "Excellent, then all of our plans worked to completion and once the remaining population die, we will be done with them all."

Startled with his statement, Hermione shook her head slightly. "Sir, have you been reading my reports to completion or merely the overviews?"

"The overviews of course. I don't have time to completely read your briefs." A dark scowl crossed the man's face as he spat the words back at her.

"The magical world will need to be rebuilt from the ground up if a stable and accepting government is to function."

Sputtering, "But is essentially is destroyed, it will die out in a few years unless we speed up the process. There is no need to establish a government for so few people." The man leaned forward in his chair staring directly in her eyes.

Letting out a deep sigh, Hermione addressed his comments directly. "Mr. Prime Minister, even though the population is low currently, it will rebuild slowly. Every year there is close to a dozen non-magical born children birthed each year. This doesn't include the thousands of refugees in other countries who wish to return to their homes now that the threat of violence has been removed."

Glaring at the young woman, "No body has ever told me of this. Why wasn't I informed?"

"Yes, sir. It has been included in every one of my reports that I have given you since our first meeting. I know that you have only been in office for a few months, so if I may, can I give you a brief history of the past?" Seeing his nod, Hermione opened a power point file for her brief that projected over her shoulder. "As I have said, about a dozen magical children are born every year. It is due to the genetic makeup that creates the magical population." Again, Cameron's head nodded in understanding allowing Hermione to continue. "Almost the entire magical population has been destroyed in England and isles. On the European continent, America, and other countries there is a large population of English magicals that wish to return. They fled to safety beginning in January of 1998 when Lord Voldemort proclaimed himself leader and ruler of magical England. He took over control of the government."

"So this mess has been going on for over ten years and no one did anything about it? People sat back and let him take control."

"In essence, yes. The people of magical England allowed corrupt leaders and politicians to dictate their lives in every way. They were sheep, if the government said to stop eating beef; the people would do so because the government said to. Bribes and corruption was the corner stone of the government. Voldemort supporters controlled and ran the government years before he even took control."

Dejected and flabbergasted the prime minister leaned back into his chair while motioning for the brief to continue.

"Voldemort returned in early summer of 1993 when he gained the life force of a young girl at Hogwarts."

Leaning forward quickly, "wait you said he returned? How is that possible?"

"Yes, he was initially destroyed by on Halloween of 1981, but Voldemort was the blackest of black and the darkest of dark. Before he died, he created horcruxes, which are fractures of his soul to become immortal. His soul rested in an object that he used to return to the mortal world. At the time he unleashed a basilisk into the school to kill children. Approximately half of the school's children and several of the adults in the school was killed at that time. However, the government did not believe of his return at the time and allowed Voldemort to gain both followers and support of his ideals. Only years after did he make his presence known, but it was too late by then."

"What of these horwhatit's? Can he return again in the future?"

"We believe that they all have been destroyed, but we can not be sure. Currently we have a team of specialist searching the isles for these items. We have located several, but we do not know how many he created to begin with. So, I can not answer your question reliably."

"How was he killed before? Why didn't the same person do it again?"

Releasing a large breath, Hermione continued, "That is the saddest part of this story. A child by the name of Harry Potter destroyed him. The story is one of legend, told to children at night for their bedtime, because Harry Potter survived the killing curse by Voldemort. No one had ever survived it before. Some say Harry picked up his mother's wand to begin a spectacular battle, others say it was his mother's love that protected him, but we will never know."

"Why not? Surely he can be asked to see what he remembers?"

"Harry was only fifteen months old when he accomplished this feat. After Voldemort was destroyed, a man by the name of Albus Dumbledore illegally placed Harry with his non-magical relatives. He claimed at the time that he would be protected from harm. The public accepted his claim because he was the leader of the light so to speak. Because of his past accomplishments, everyone accepted his word and no one was the wiser. He held several prominent positions in the magical world and was respected across the isles and the continent. In the fall of 1986, Harry was killed in a severe beating given to him by his uncle and his uncle's wife. It was then discovered that the relatives hated magic and in turn hated Harry. They systematically beat, starved, and enslaved the boy. The truth concerning his placement and the details were discovered after his death and the public turned against Dumbledore blaming him for Harry's death. He was eventually destroyed publicly and politically. After Dumbledore's removal from his offices, he claimed that Harry haunted him in both his dreams and during the day until the day he died a year latter. After his death, more truths came out concerning Dumbledore's claimed accomplishments. Many of the things were other's work that he took credit for before killing them or erasing their memories." Pausing and shaking her head, Hermione refocused. "To continue, the darker side of the magical world emerged and began a stout push claiming non-magicals are inferior and non-magical born children were stealing magic." A soft laugh escaped her lips as she glanced down at her crossed legs.

"What is so funny?"

Meeting his eyes again, Hermione continued. "Several things actually. The first is the fact that, it has been proven that the continuation of the bloodlines that were held in reverence by the blood purist would have eventually ended the magical world without the addition of new blood into lines. However, it would have taken a few centuries to do that. The second is that Harry Potter would have been in my year at Hogwarts when he started. I wonder what he would have been like. How his survival would have impacted the magical world. Even, if I would have been his friend."

"Maybe, they have learned their lessons then." A smug smile rested on Cameron's lips while staring down the young woman.

"Yes, they have, but at a cost that was unavoidable and will take centuries to recover from." She replied before continuing, "Now we have the responsibility to rebuild the magical world into a sustainable and discrimination free world."

"Well, what are your suggestions?"

A slight smile crossed her lips as she began to explain her ideas.

-000-

Hermione unlocked the door to her small flat. The fading sunlight filters through the light curtains hanging on the windows. Pictures hang on the beige walls, both magical and non-magical. In one, a stunning blonde is seen clutching a bushy haired version of Hermione. In the background is a white limestone castle, the French school that Hermione transferred to shortly into her first year. Others include an older version of Hermione with black hair and a sandy haired man. Several letters lay unopened in a neat stack on her desk that she hasn't had the time to respond to.

Entering the kitchen, she sets her case and clutch on the table before filling a kettle of water on the stove. Resting her hands on the sink, she locks her elbows peering out the small window to collect her thoughts. Whistling from the kettle breaks her concentration before she filled a cup and returned to the living room. Relaxing into her favorite chair by her bookcases, she sipped the hot tea.

"Excuse me," a masculine voice called into the room.

A twitch from her arm and a gleaming wand rested in her palm where she began to rotate the smooth handle. "Who's there?" she called.

"I'm sorry, but I didn't mean to startle you, but I would like to talk to you for a moment, if that is permissible? My name is Harry Potter."

Stunned and shaking, Hermione slowly nodded her head in acceptance as a bright silver man appeared in the middle of her living room. Broad shoulders jutted from his lean torso and connected with strong arms. Messy hair stuck up at impossible angles on the top of his head where round wire frames sat on his nose.

"You are a ghost."

A broad grin stretched across his face and he slowly nodded. "Yes, that can happen when you die."

"But how?"

"I thought that you covered that quite well in you meeting with the Prime Minister this afternoon." Shrugging his shoulders slightly he glanced down at the rug covered floor, "but if you want to hear what happened, I can tell you."

"Yes… No… I mean… Why here? Why now? Why not earlier? Why did it have to happen to you? Everyone lost hope after you died and it changed for the worst. And then Voldemort came back to rule. We had to destroy everything to start over."

"Yeah, I know. It wasn't supposed to be like this, but one man's hold on power corrupted him to the point that he could no longer be trusted."

"Voldemort."

"Actually no, it was Dumbledore." Startled again, Hermione leaned back into her chair, resting the cup o her knees. "Dumbledore did all of those things that he claimed before he was discredited by jealous individuals who wanted to discredit his memory by spreading lies and mistruths. To this day, his soul is tormented by the destruction of the wizarding world that he loved so much. He did believe that I would be protected from people who wanted to harm me in the wizarding world and it was true. But what he didn't account for is the cruelty that was displayed by my uncle and his sister. In part it was my father's fault. He played a prank on my uncle that embarrassed the man in front of my aunt before they were married. From that point forward, he hated my father and magic in general. My father is reminded every day of his prank, and since my death he has not played another prank on anyone."

"But you said it was Dumbledore's fault."

"It was, if he would have followed my parent's will and the advice of others I would have never been placed with my relatives. Dumbledore was continually warned that they were the 'worst sort of muggles' by everyone, but he did what he wanted for 'the greater good.' He was concerned what I would have turned out to be if I had lived in the magical world and knew of my accomplishment. By the way, I would have never been the strutting peacock or the spoilt child that he feared I would have turned out to be. Dumbledore was to busy with everything to stay in power that he never visited me or check on my development. I latter learned that a prophecy that was made about me, indicated to him that only one person could kill me and that was Voldemort. However, he latter found out that it was untrue. As I said, his soul lives in torment now."

"You said that he did do the things that he claimed, now we can right his name then and restore it to where it should be then."

"Sadly, no one would believe you, Miss Granger. His reputation is tainted beyond repair at this point. Even with the victor writing history, it would not be believed. Move forward from today and learn from the past."

Sheepishly Hermione lowered her head slightly. "I am sorry that I didn't introduce myself earlier. Hermione Granger."

Smiling again, they locked eyes before he spoke. "Quite alright, I actually have been watching you for quite a while. And in answer to your question earlier today, I do think that we could have been friends. I never had any friends growing up and would have liked one when I started Hogwarts."

Nervously she asked the question, "What do you mean by watching me?"

"I went to Hogwarts along with everyone else. I saw you get sorted into Gryffindor. Watched you struggle making friends because of your intelligence and even protected you before you left for France. I visited you there on occasion until the closure of the Hogwarts and then followed you there after that. When you returned I tried to help as much as I could with everything to assist you in whatever you tried to accomplish."

"Hold it, how did you protect me?"

"Remember the day and night you spent in the second floor bathroom crying?" Her head nodded slightly before he continued. "A troll was let loose in the castle that night and I was able to keep the troll away from you. Otherwise you would have been killed." Harry watched the coluor drain from her face. "That night was a pivotal role in our destinies, in both my death or in my life, I would have saved you that night. In short, we became joined to help fulfill each other's destinies."

"What do you mean by our destinies?"

"Life is what you put into it. You put everything you can into life and therefore you will achieve you dreams. Mine changed the night I was placed with my relatives, but yours changed as well. My previous destiny was to defeat Voldemort and become the youngest Minister of Magic and right the wrongs of past generations. After that it changed to simply defeat Voldemort and become the husband to the youngest Minister of Magic. I am proud of you and what you accomplished in you life Hermione. By the way, congratulations Miss Minister."

With those final words Harry Potter faded into nonexistence and never seen again. Left sitting in the room, was Hermione Granger the youngest Minister of Magic ever and the first non-magical born as well. Tears filled her eyes as the realizations of Dumbledore's mistake crashed around her. The loss of a friend and future husband was laid at his feet.