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into　this　mulch；　experienced　a　stabbing　pain　in　the　fourth　finger　of　his　right　hand；　and　withdrawn　it　to　see　a　lot　of　blood。
He　now　proceeded　a　little　more　cautiously。　Kneeling　down　beside　the　trunk　again；　he　groped　around　in　the　bottom　and；　after　retrieving　an　old　badge　that　flickered　feebly　between　iSUPPORT　CEDRIC　DIGGORYi　and　iPOTTER　STINKSi；　a　cracked　and　worn…out　Sneakoscope；　and　a　gold　locket　inside　which　a　note　signed　R。A。B。　had　been　hidden；　he　finally　discovered　the　sharp　edge　that　had　done　the　damage。　He　recognized　it　at　once。　It　was　a　two…inch…long　fragment　of　the　enchanted　mirror　that　his　dead　godfather；　Sirius；　had　given　him。　Harry　laid　it　aside　and　felt　cautiously　around　the　trunk　for　the　rest；　but　nothing
more　remained　of　his　godfather's　last　gift　except　powdered　glass；　which　clung　to　the　deepest　layer　of　debris　like　glittering　grit。
Harry　sat　up　and　examined　the　jagged　piece　on　which　he　had　cut　himself；　seeing　nothing　but　his　own　bright　green　eye　reflected　back　at　him。　Then　he　placed　the　fragment　on　top　of　that　morning's　Daily　prophet；　which　lay　unread　on　the　bed；　and　attempted　to　stem　the　sudden　upsurge　of　bitter　memories；　the　stabs　of　regret　and　of　longing　the　discovery　of　the　broken　mirror　had　occasioned；　by　attacking　the　rest　of　the　rubbish　in　the　trunk。
It　took　another　hour　to　empty　it　completely；　throw　away　the　useless　items；　and　sort　the　remainder　in　piles　according　to　whether　or　not　he　would　need　them　from　now　on。　His　school　and　Quidditch　robes；　cauldron；　parchment；　quills；　and　most　of　his　textbooks　were　piled　in　a　corner；　to　be　left　behind。　He　wondered　what　his　aunt　and　uncle　would　do　with　them；　burn　them　in　the　dead　of　night；　probably；　as　if　they　were　evidence　of　some　dreadful　crime。　His　Muggle　clothing；　Invisibility　Cloak；　potion…making　kit；　certain　books；　the　photograph　album　Hagrid　had　once　given　him；　a　stack　of　letters；　and　his　wand　had　been　repacked　into　an　old　rucksack。　In　a　front　pocket　were　the　Marauder's　Map　and　the　locket　with　the　note　signed　R。A。B。　inside　it。　The　locket　was　accorded　this　place　of　honor　not　because　it　was　valuable　…　in　all　usual　senses　it　was　worthless　…　but　because　of　what　it　had　cost　to　attain　it。
This　left　a　sizable　stack　of　newspapers　sitting　on　his　desk　beside　his　snowy　owl；　Hedwig：　one　for　each　of　the　days　Harry　had　spent　at　Privet　Drive　this　summer。
He　got　up　off　the　floor；　stretched；　and　moved　across　to　his　desk。　Hedwig　made　no　movement　as　he　began　to　flick　through　newspapers；　throwing　them　into　the　rubbish　pile　one　by　one。　The　owl　was　asleep　or　else　faking；　she　was　angry　with　Harry　about　the　limited　amount　of　time　she　was　allowed　out　of　her　cage　at　the　moment。
As　he　neared　the　bottom　of　the　pile　of　newspapers；　Harry　slowed　down；　searching　for　one　particular　issue　that　he　knew　had　arrived　shortly　after　he　had　returned　to　Privet　Drive　for　the　summer；　he　remembered　that　there　had　been　a　small　mention　on　the　front　about　the　resignation　of　Charity　Burbage；　the　Muggle　Studies　teacher　at　Hogwarts。　At　last　he　found　it。　Turning　to　page　ten；　he　sank　into　his　desk　chair　and　reread　the　article　he　had　been　looking　for。
bALBUS　DUMBLEDORE　REMEMBEREDb
By　Elphias　Doge
I　met　Albus　Dumbledore　at　the　age　of　eleven；　on　our　first　day　at　Hogwarts。　Our　mutual　attraction　was　undoubtedly　due　to　the　fact　that　we　both　felt　ourselves　to　be　outsiders。　I　had　contracted　dragon　pox　shortly　before　arriving　at　school；　and　while
I　was　no　longer　contagious；　my　pock…marked　visage　and　greenish　hue　did　not　encourage　many　to　approach　me。　For　his　part；　Albus　had　arrived　at　Hogwarts　under　the　burden　of　unwanted　notoriety。　Scarcely　a　year　previously；　his　father；　Percival；　had　been　convicted　of　a　savage　and　well…publicized　attack　upon　three　young　Muggles。
Albus　never　attempted　to　deny　that　his　father　（who　was　to　die　in　Azkaban）　had　committed　this　crime；　on　the　contrary；　when　I　plucked　up　courage　to　ask　him；　he　assured　me　that　he　knew　his　father　to　be　guilty。　Beyond　that；　Dumbledore　refused　to　speak　of　the　sad　business；　though　many　attempted　to　make　him　do　so。　Some；　indeed；　were　disposed　to　praise　his　father's　action　and　assumed　that　Albus　too　was　a　Muggle…hater。　They　could　not　have　been　more　mistaken：　As　anybody　who　knew　Albus　would　attest；　he　never　revealed　the　remotest　anti…Muggle　tendency。　Indeed；　his　determined　support　for　Muggle　rights　gained　him　many　enemies　in　subsequent　years。
In　a　matter　of　months；　however；　Albus's　own　fame　had　begun　to　eclipse　that　of　his　father。　By　the　end　of　his　first　year　he　would　never　again　be　known　as　the　son　of　a　Muggle…hater；　but　as　nothing　more　or　less　than　the　most　brilliant　student　ever　seen　at　the　school。　Those　of　us　who　were　privileged　to　be　his　friends　benefited　from　his　example；　not　to　mention　his　help　and　encouragement；　with　which　he　was　always　generous。　He　confessed　to　me　later　in　life　that　he　knew　even　then　that　his　greatest　pleasure　lay　in　teaching。
He　not　only　won　every　prize　of　note　that　the　school　offered；　he　was　soon　in　regular　correspondence　with　the　most　notable　magical　names　of　the　day；　including　Nicolas　Flamel；　the　celebrated　alchemist；　Bathilda　Bagshot；　the　noted　historian；　and　Adalbert　Waffling；　the　magical　theoretician。　Several　of　his　papers　found　their　way　into　learned　publications　such　as　iTransfiguration　Today；　Challenges　in　Charming；i　and　iThe　Practical　Potioneeri。　Dumbledore's　future　career　seemed　likely　to　be　meteoric；　and　the　only　question　that　remained　was　when　he　would　become　Minister　of　Magic。　Though　it　was　often　predicted　in　later　years　that　he　was　on　the　point　of　taking　the　job；　however；　he　never　had　Ministerial　ambitions。
Three　years　after　we　had　started　at　Hogwarts；　Albus's　brother；　Aberforth；　arrived　at　school。　They　were　not　alike：　Aberforth　was　never　bookish　and；　unlike　Albus；　preferred　to　settle　arguments　by　dueling　rather　than　through　reasoned　discussion。　However；　it　is　quite　wrong　to　suggest；　as　some　have；　that　the　brothers　were　not　friends。　They　rubbed　along　as　comfortably　as　two　such　different　boys　could　do。　In　fairness　to　Aberforth；　it　must　be　admitted　that　living　in　Albus's　shadow　cannot　have　been　an　altogether　comfortable　experience。　Being　continually　outshone　was　an　occupational　hazard　of　being　his　friend　and　cannot　have　been　any　more　pleasurable　as　a　brother。　When　Albus　and　I　left　Hogwarts　we　intended　to　take　the　then…traditional　tour　of　the　world　together；　visiting　and　observing　foreign　wizards；　before　pursuing　our　separate　careers。　However；　tragedy　intervened。　On　the　very　eve　of　our　trip；　Albus's　mother；　Kendra；　died；　leaving
Albus　the　head；　and　sole　breadwinner；　of　the　family。　I　postponed　my　departure　long　enough　to　pay　my　respects　at　Kendra's　funeral；　then　left　for　what　was　now　to　be　a　solitary　journey。　With　a　younger　brother　and　sister　to　care　for；　and　little　gold　left　to　them；　there　could　no　longer　be　any　question　of　Albus　accompanying　me。
That　was　the　period　of　our　lives　when　we　had　least　contact。　I　wrote　to　Albus；　describing；　perhaps　insensitively；　the　wonders　of　my　journey；　from　narrow　escapes　from　chimaeras　in　Greece　to　the　experiments　of　the　Egyptian　alchemists。　His　letters　told　me　little　of　his　day…to…day　life；　which　I　guessed　to　be　frustratingly　dull　for　such　a　brilliant　wizard。　Immersed　in　my　own　experiences；　it　was　with　horror　that　I　heard；　toward　the　end　of　my　year's　travels；　that　another　tragedy　had　struck　the　Dumbledores：　the　death　of　his　sister；　Ariana。
Though　Ariana　had　been　in　poor　health　for　a　long　time；　the　blow；　coming　so　soon　after　the　loss　of　their　mother；　had　a　profound　effect　on　both　of　her　brothers。　All　those　closest　to　Albus　…　and　I　count　myself　one　of　that　lucky　number　…　agree　that　Ariana's　death；　and　Albus's　feeling　of　personal　responsibility　for　it　（though；　of　course；　he　was　guiltless）；　left　their　mark　upon　him　forevermore。
I　returned　home　to　find　a　young　man　who　had　experienced　a　much　older　person's　suffering。　Albus　was　more　reserved　than　before；　and　much　less　light…hearted。　To　add　to　his　misery；　the　loss　of　Ariana　had　led；　not　to　a　renewed　closeness　between　Albus　and　Aberforth；　but　to　an　estrangement。　（In　time　this　would　lift　…　in　later　years　they　reestablished；　if　not　a　close　relationship；　then　certainly　a　cordial　one。）　However；　he　rarely　spoke　of　his　parents　or　of　Ariana　from　then　on；　and　his　friends　learned　not　to　mention　them。
Other　quills　will　describe　the　triumphs　of　the　following　years。　Dumbledore's　innumerable　contributions　to　the　store　of　Wizarding　knowledge；　including　his　discovery　of　the　twelve　uses　of　dragon's　blood；　will　benefit　generations　to　come；　as　will　the　wisdom　he　displayed　in　the　many　judgments　while　Chief　Warlock　of　the　Wizengamot。　They　say；　still；　that　no　Wizarding　duel　ever　matched　that　between　Dumbledore　and　Grindelwald　in　1945。　Those　who　witnessed　it　have　written　of　the　terror　and　the　awe　they　felt　as　they　watched　these　two　extraordinary　wizards　to　battle。　Dumbledore's　triumph；　and　its　consequences　for　the　Wizarding　world；　are　considered　a　turning　point　in　magical　history　to　match　the　introduction　of　the　International　Statute　of　Secrecy　or　the　downfall　of　He…Who…Must…Not…Be…Named。
Albus　Dumbledore　was　never　proud　or　vain；　he　could　find　something　to　value　in　anyone；　however　apparently　insignificant　or　wretched；　and　I　believe　that　his　early　losses　endowed　him　with　great　humanity　and　sympathy。　I　shall　miss　his　friendship　more　than　I　can　say；　but　my　loss　is　nothing　compared　to　the　Wizarding　world's。　That　he　was　the　most　inspiring　and　best　loved　of　all　Hogwarts　headmasters　cannot　be　in　question。　He　died　as　he　lived：　working　always　for　the
greater　good　and；　to　his　last　hour；　as　willing　to　stretch　out　a　hand　to　a　small　boy　with　dragon　pox　as　he　was　on　the　day　I　met　him。
Harry　finished　reading；　but　continued　to　gaze　at　the　picture　accompanying　the　obituary。　Dumbledore　was　wearing　his　familiar；　kindly　smile；　but　as　he　peered　over　the　top　of　his　half…moon　spectacles；　he　gave　the　impression；　even　in　newsprint；　of　X…raying　Harry；　whose　sadness　mingled　with　a　sense　of　humiliation。
He　had　thought　he　knew　Dumbledore　quite　well；　but　ever　since　reading　this　obituary　he　had　been　forced　to　recognize　that　he　had　barely　known　him　at　all。　Never　once　had　he　imagined　Dumbledore's　childhood　or　youth；　it　was　as　though　he　had　sprung　into　being　as　Harry　had　known　him；　venerable　a