deathtocapslock | Knave or Fool?

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Knave or Fool?

“Tell me honestly . . . do you think me most a knave or a fool ?’” asked John Willoughby of Miss Dashwood, and I think it’s time we addressed that question directly with regards to our friend and mentor Albus.

Just because I love Jane Austen (and so, allegedly, does Rowling), here are two quotes in which a heroine is trying to figure out the true nature of a man of her acquaintance.

First, Lizzie Bennett abour Willoughby:
“As to his real character, had information been in her power, she had never felt a wish of enquiring. His countenance, voice, and manner had established him at once in the possession of every virtue. She tried to recollect some instance of goodness, some distinguished trait of integrity or benevolence, that might rescue him from the attacks of Mr. Darcy; or at least, by the predominance of virtue, atone for those casual errors, under which she would endeavour to class what Mr. Darcy had described as the idleness and vice of many years continuance. But no such recollection befriended her. She could see him instantly before her, in every charm of air and address; but she could remember no more substantial good than the general approbation of the neighbourhood, and the regard which his social powers had gained him in the mess. “ (Pride & Prejudice)

Second, Anne Elliott about her cousin:
“Though they had now been acquainted a month, she could not be satisfied that she really knew his character. That he … talked well, professed good opinions, seemed to judge properly and as a man of principle, this was all clear enough. He certainly knew what was right, nor could she fix on any one article of moral duty evidently transgressed; but yet she would have been afraid to answer for his conduct. She distrusted the past, if not the present…. The names which he occasionally dropt of former associates, the allusions to former practices and pursuits, suggested suspicions not favourable of what he had been. She saw that … that there had been a period of his life (and probably not a short one) when he had been, at least, careless in all serious matters; and, though he might now think very differently, who could answer for the true sentiments of a clever, cautious man, grown old enough to appreciate a fair character? How could it ever be ascertained that his mind was truly cleansed?

“Mr. Elliot was rational, discreet, polished, but he was not open….” (Persuasion)

(“Not open” as an indictment!—chokes on tea….)

So. Is our friend Albus in truth a heartless, even soulless villain like Tom, with the primary difference being that unlike Tom, Albus was “a clever, cautious man grown old enough to appreciate a fair character”?

Or can we find "some distinguished trait of integrity or benevolence," that might rescue Albus from the attacks of marionros, oneandthetruth, the_bitter_word, and, er, me, among others; or at least, by the predominance of virtue, atone for those casual errors, under which we might endeavour to class what JKR has depicted as the idleness and vice of many years continuance?

I seriously don’t know the answer here. I look forward to the discussion.

I’ll start the ball rolling by saying that I see two things (and two only) that I don’t see how to explain by the “knave” theory.

One is Albus’s giving up both Gellert and the pursuit of world domination after his sister’s death. Why, unless continuing to pursue that shared dream had become impossible to reconcile with his own image of himself as a decent (ish) man? Even if he shook off Gellert only in disgust for Gellert's having abandoned him to the mess of hushing up their mutual murder, why abandon his grandiose dreams if he hadn’t had a change of heart—and therefore, a heart to change?

The second is the Birdbath of Doom. What was Albus sniveling about after drinking Tom’s potion, if he wasn’t feeling remorse or something like it?

Can anyone else find any irreducible attestations to virtue in his behavior, or conversely, unarguable evidence of his villainy?

I look forward to your responses!

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Well, in the cave he did have an audience, so psychopath!Albus might have been playing remorse to Harry. He was expecting to die that night (at least since he heard Harry's report of Draco's celebratory whooping from the ROR). Did he expect the tales of his past to be revealed between his death and the completion of Harry's mission? He was expecting the trio to get involved with the Hallows since he was planning on leaving the book to Hermione. One might argue he was setting Harry up into seeing him as remorseful over Ariana's death in case Harry ever learns of that bit of story, in order to keep Harry's faith.

As for giving up world domination - perhaps he realized he didn't have what it took to pull it off. But immortality was still enticing, so he went to Flamel to learn alchemy. Alas he failed to make his own philosophers' stone. So very disappointed in himself, he went to teach (a man still needs to eat), and the constant contact with young impressionable children revealed to him a different path to domination (only in Britain).

There were those who wanted to see him as Minister, but Albus realized that Ministers were actually held responsible for failures (whether they were responsible for them or merely in the wrong seat at the wrong time). Headmasters generally got to do whatever they wanted until they were ready to retire on their own terms.

A worthy opening!

My first reaction was, okay, I can buy Albus lying to Harry, but. I couldn't buy Tom trusting his Horcrux-protection to a potion that was so weak that Albus could fight off its true effects while staying enough in control to manufacture reactions for Harry's benefit.

And then I thought about it some more, and went: unless Albus had previously been there, brought back a sample of the potion, and had Severus create him an antidote.

Or RECOGNIZED the potion, and had Severus brew an antidote, or at least a palliative.

Because, in fact, it works even better if--wasn't it Swythyv (and/or Jodel) who argued that Tom had found and adapted to his own corrupt purposes a very ancient magical site? And maybe rite?

A lot of what's weird about that scene is susceptible to explanation if.

Well. Imagine this. There is a cave, and in the cave a lake, and in the lake an island to which one must cross alone. Others might accompany the initiate to the shore, but only one may cross the water. Alone, one approaches the pedestal with the basin. Alone, one drinks....

and experiences, yes, remorse. Or rather, hallucinates every error, every weakness, every act--every sin of commission and omission--for which one SHOULD feel remorse. Every one.

Most people wouldn't have the strength to force themselves to continue drinking. And those people who stopped drinking would die.

Only if you drain the basin to the dregs, have the strength and courage to fully face your every wrong and repent, can you drink of the water of the lake and live. Purified. Reborn.

What, I wonder, was originally at the bottom of that basin? Or was the original point simply to drink in full, and return transformed?

And Tom perverted THAT into a Horcrux-protection trap. Just by adding Inferi in the lake, which--in the wildly unlikely chance the person crossing the lake had the strength of character to drain the basin--would kill the successful drinker when the lake water was touched.

And Albus, yes, cheated by ingesting an antidote before he came with Harry. That explains his wildly inconsistent behavior afterwards--he's too weak to stand, weak as a newborn, in fact. Except when he needs not to be. When he needs to throw fire at the Inferi because Harry forgot his coaching, or fly a broom, or unravel the Hogwarts perimeter protections, he's perfectly capable.

And that means he always intended that night to be his death, and Severus to kill him in view of Harry. But Harry would be able to report that Albus had been killed after surviving the ritual.

If Tom used an existing magical cave, he wouldn't know of the potentially purifying effect of the lake, since he does not experience remorse. Dumbles could research the potion and the lake water (he knew that disturbing the water would alert the inferi). So he had the choice of really purifying himself or faking it. If he chose to fake it, then he was willing to risk dying unpurified (which of course would have been the case had he not discovered the cave in the first place). Did he fear he would not be able to down the whole amount? Or did he fear he wouldn't be able to hold off the inferi in time if he did?

Kreacher did of course drink the entire amount and the lake water, so at least for a while he was the purest magical being in Britain. (Assuming the presence of the inferi did not counter the purifying effect of the lake; in this case there would be no point in not-cheating.)

He might know of the lake's effect because of old tales. He was a reader, and it's not unlikely that the restricted section wasn't as restricted in his time. With Tom's interest in his magical ancestry, he may very likely have been interested in reading up on all the lore, as though he'd been raised in the lifestyle. I'm jumping to a few conclusions here: that there is a body of lore on things like magical birdbaths and purifying lakes, and that this lore is now restricted - it could just be that Harry & Co. don't notice things like that, or believe in them, or whatever. They didn't know about horcruxes or hallows, or at least didn't give them enough credence to even think about them seriously for two seconds. It might be a Weasley effect, too - they told the kids tales of The Boy Who Lived, but not about the Deathly Hallows. Could be that the Weasleys themselves didn't believe and so didn't pass on that lore; that was for crackpots like X. Lovegood.

I like the idea of a purification ritual. It seems to ring true at some level for me. You could look at the birdbath as the 'cup of poison' and the lake like the blood part of the Host, in its original inception. I'd think that the inferi did contaminate the purity of the lake water.

I tend to see Albus as incredibly and ridiculously /weak/ (rather like a cockier version of Peter Pettigrew, come to think of it) rather than evil - "evil" being too complimentary, as it implies there's a solid person in there to be evil. I cite JKR's insane interview that claimed Albus, formerly a very moral student, saw nothing wrong with genocide while head over heels for Gellert. What?

Still, I'll play with the theory:

"One is Albus’s giving up both Gellert and the pursuit of world domination after his sister’s death. Why, unless continuing to pursue that shared dream had become impossible to reconcile with his own image of himself as a decent (ish) man? Even if he shook off Gellert only in disgust for Gellert's having abandoned him to the mess of hushing up their mutual murder, why abandon his grandiose dreams if he hadn’t had a change of heart—and therefore, a heart to change?"
Perhaps, upon reflection, world conquest wasn't as easy as he'd hoped? Alternatively, perhaps Albus is one of those contest-winners who never quite get over the end of their school years. Real life is hard. Much better to retreat into a permanent cocoon of Gryffindorism, surrounded always by doting fans. And now that he's a grown-up, he can MAKE Gryffindor win if he says so! So there!

"The second is the Birdbath of Doom. What was Albus sniveling about after drinking Tom’s potion, if he wasn’t feeling remorse or something like it?"
Harry is so full of shit as to the explanation he gives for the potion. Kreacher saw "horrible things" and cried for his Mistress Black. There's no indication whatsoever that whatever Albus saw had ANYTHING to do with Ariana, Gellert, or Aberforth. He cried and screamed, he blathered nonsense in his delirium, and Harry's explanation is crazier than any fan essay. For all we know, he was screaming for the invisible tormentors not to harm his trophies.

That's funny enough that I'm halfway tempted to adopt it... ;)

"Can anyone else find any irreducible attestations to virtue in his behavior, or conversely, unarguable evidence of his villainy?"
Leaving a presumably-magical child for ten years with magic-haters.

Full stop.

That's interesting, because, I believe, one definition of evil is weakness. It's not a positive quality in itself, rather, it's lack of integrity and the absence of good. And I'd say those things do define Albus Dumbledore, even more than they define Tom Riddle. Both are weak, I think, but Dumbledore is more so.

That said, there are some villains who are driven by recognizable human emotions like anger, envy, pride and fear. Villains like these seem more capable of redemption than those who, on some basic level, simply aren't there. Albus Dumbledore may well be one of the latter - a hollow man. C.S. Lewis called them men without chests.

It's interesting that you bring that up because this past summer I watched an anime featuring a villain who, as you say, just wasn't all there. And he was easily the scariest villain in a series with some pretty terrifying people. He could go through the day with a beautiful boyish smile on his face and at the same time plot to wipe out most of humanity and strangle a man to death with his bare hands for crossing him. What made him interesting was trying to figure out how and why he wasn't all there and to what extent he wasn't all there (it's implied, though never spelled out, that he'd gone numb from post-traumatic stress).

Edited 2014-11-16 11:50 (UTC)

"Harry is so full of shit as to the explanation he gives for the potion. Kreacher saw "horrible things" and cried for his Mistress Black. There's no indication whatsoever that whatever Albus saw had ANYTHING to do with Ariana, Gellert, or Aberforth. He cried and screamed, he blathered nonsense in his delirium, and Harry's explanation is crazier than any fan essay. For all we know, he was screaming for the invisible tormentors not to harm his trophies."

Tell me about it. Before the last book came out, my parents (who are not Snapefen by any means) theorized that Dumbledore in that scene had been forced to adopt the persona of Snape begging Voldemort to spare the lives of Lily and her family.

If Dumbledore was a genius, he should be able to foresee the outcome of his potential actions, and therefore for me, he is a villain.
If he was not a genius, I can find an excuse for him.
So the argumentation for me is, was Dumbledore a genius (or was he intelligent enough to be able to foresee the possible events), or was he not?

Because I see the main problem in this: if there is only one school, if the whole population depends on having passed some type of exam and you can pass it only at that school, and if a Headmaster allows one quarter of school children to be ostracized (like Slytherins were under Dumbledore), the emerging of a Dark Lord is only a matter of time.
Psychopats like Tom Riddle happen. It's the functional society what stops them - or allows them to rise.
And as I see it - a Minister is dealing with the present time, but future is in the hands of a Headmaster. He is, who shapes the school where the future productive generation is taught how the world works.

Edited 2014-11-15 15:31 (UTC)

Intelligence has many dimensions. Some can be a genius is science (or magic) and at the same time a simpleton where it comes to human affairs. And wizarding society seems to appreciate the former kind of intelligence and just assumes that it implies the latter too. Not sure how that can happen when both Hufflepuffs and Slytherins are socially aware. But then both are ill-considered in Dumbledore's Hogwarts (we don't know what their relative status was in earlier times, but I doubt the ostracizing of Slytherins started much earlier because there would be no smart Slytherins around by now if so).

You're right. Then the question is: was Dumbledore able to foresee the outcome of his actions?
Not everything, of course; only things like "If I'll do/allow this, it can cause roughly that".

Because there is one thing I don't understand about Dumbledore. He is repeating a few mistakes all along, starting with Gellert and Ariana. Is it because of his stupidity, or is it an intention?
(EDIT: He covers it by stating that he is benign enough to give second chances, or just by not speaking about it. In fact, his second chances are no second chances - for the good people. He is giving second chances to the villains only - and to be better villains the second time only. The rest is smoke and mirrors.)

True about the Slytherins - I don't see the ostracizing as going for too long, either.

Edited 2014-11-15 16:55 (UTC)

I would say that at the very least, it is unlikely that they were ostracized when Phineas Nigeleus was Headmaster. However, he died in 1925, which is at least 15years before Tom entered Hogwarts.

Truthfully, I did not get the feeling that Slytherins were particularly ostracized during Tom's time at Hogwarts. He was apparently a favorite of many teachers and only Albus 'suspected' anything was wrong about him. He sounds as if he was popular (unless he or his crowd apparently secretly 'picked' on you - don't know the extent, whether it was worse than the Marauders or not). However, I find it interesting that Albus was suspicious of Tom's gang, but didn't apparently disapprove of James'.

Anyways, I would say the Slytherins became more overtly separated from the rest of the school during/after Tom's time at Hogwarts. Albus was probably treating them differently, but not the rest of the staff. Certainly Dippet seemed to like Tom.

"However, I find it interesting that Albus was suspicious of Tom's gang, but didn't apparently disapprove of James'."
Tom's was far more successful, I think. The analogue would be *ironically - or not so much so?* Dumbledore's Army. James's gang was basically 'the Twins 0.5, but with two hangers-on'.

You're right. Then the question is: was Dumbledore able to foresee the outcome of his actions?
Not everything, of course; only things like "If I'll do/allow this, it can cause roughly that".

I think there was no accident there was a chess game in the first book. One defining characteristic of a chess game is that the players do better if they see several moves ahead. Even though it doesn't seem to come up much after book 1, it's an image that fans keep bringing up. I think we're supposed to look at the series in that light.

True about the Slytherins - I don't see the ostracizing as going for too long, either.

When Snape talked to Lily about the Hogwarts houses, he said Slytherin was the one for (iirc) the smart people (or something along those lines.) He didn't seem to have much contact with the WW, but he got that idea from somewhere. It could have been Eileen, or it could have been Eileen and her parents, if the Princes weren't killed off like so many other parents and grandparents in the series. It's likely that Slytherin was seen as being a house of canny business acumen, rather than raw (and, therefore, evil) ambition before DD's time as headmaster.

In that case, Dumbledore is as bad as Voldemort (or whoever is the other across the chessboard) for me, because you just don't play chess with sentient beings for entertrainment if you want to stay good in my world.

Yes, Slytherin as a complement to Ravenclaw for the scholarly, and Gryffindor together with Hufflepuff for those who prefer physical actions, that could be the intention and it makes sense like this.
1/4 of children inherently good and 1/4 inherently bad from age 11 to the end of their lives doesn't make sense. :-)

I love coming up with classifications for the Houses. My first pairing of Houses was the one you pointed out: Slytherin and Ravenclaw are the “head” Houses—Houses of the intellect—while Gryffindor and Hufflepuff are the “heart” Houses—Houses of the emotions. Then I cross-matched them: Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff are rule-followers while Slytherin and Gryffindor are rule-breakers. I think it was Terri who pointed out to me that one can also pair Ravenclaw with Gryffindor as individualists, and Hufflepuff with Slytherin as community-thinkers. With Hufflepuff it’s friendship and loyalty; with Slytherin it’s networking and trading favors. In other words, Hufflepuff is a family and Slytherin is a political party (while Ravenclaw is a research academy and Gryffindor is a band of adventurers. Your fellow-Ravenclaw will debate your theories and check your facts, and your fellow-Gryffindor will watch your back and rescue you when you’re beaten, but each is out for his own intellectual/heroic glory.)

Therefore according to the Gospel of JKR, emotional, rule-breaking individualists are the Epitome of Good, and intellectual, rule-breaking networkers are EVIL EVIL EVIL.

Edited 2014-11-19 20:01 (UTC)

Yes! I love these classifications, too.
And I love to write (and read) stories where the plot cannot go on *without* all four Houses cooperating. Because you need all four not to omiss something. Ravenclaw will find the core of the problem and (hundreds of possible) solution(s). Gryffindor will be first to try to do it. Slytherin will make it possible and will arrange things so that they will not be disturbed or killed when doing it, and Hufflepuff will provide all the materiál needed including transportation and fuel. :-D Can't omiss any, can you?

Why, unless continuing to pursue that shared dream had become impossible to reconcile with his own image of himself as a decent (ish) man?
I think it's precisely that.
That DD have always seen himself as a good man. Yes, he wanted to rule, but that would be for best of all! Any sacrifices that had to be made, while regrettable, would be for greater good. He was just so much smarter and more powerful then anybody that it would be only natural for him to be the one to make all decisions.
Still, he would be a benevolent, White / Light wizard and in time all shall love him. (and despair)

And he was able to believe all that ... until he or his grand plans killed his sister.
At my more cynical (which is most of the time) I think that what truly hit him wasn't so much loss, grief and gilt over his sister death but the loss of his ability to see himself as perfect.
While I doubt his ability to truly feel and understand what makes people good, I don't doubt he was aware that good people don't kill their little sisters.
And that that was what made him change.

In essence; I think he was very very similar to Tom. But that the main difference was that Tom didn't care about people seeing him as evil, nor did he even believe in good / evil. He just wanted all kinds of power and cared nothing as to how will he get it.
While DD wanted to be loved and seen as good. To go down in history as the next Merlin. And a great force for Good.

He even wanted to be able to see himself as good. So, just pretending to be good and ensuring you get good PR wouldn't be enough.
He had to mind the letter (if not the spirit) of those laws that determine is somebody good.

I even think that, in time, he came to like the mental image of himself as a sadder, wiser man atoning and sacrificing (others) for past mistakes (that naturally, were mostly the fault of somebody else).

When I was first reading the last book I even expected to see Ariana's portrait or some other memento. Something that JKR will show us as a proof that DD was suffering over the past and as something that he was keeping to remind him of it and of prices of power.
We did get a portrait but Albus wasn't the one dwelling on the past.

So, yeah. It all looks very much like DD only caring about the way he see himself.

What was Albus sniveling about after drinking Tom’s potion, if he wasn’t feeling remorse or something like it?
Eh, if there are potions that can induce "love" or feelings that look like love?
Why not a potion that forces remorse or something like it? I even imagine that ingesting something like that would be much harder to somebody who never felt true remorse before. To a psychopath that would be a torture worth sniveling about.

Good question.
I don't see DD as a full psychopath (such as Tom) but I do think he was very self-deluded, devoid of empathy, narcissistic, incapable of admitting (even to himself) to any wrongdoing or guilt, in love with his own myth and not even close to being as smart as he though he was.

He probably had many grand plans before meeting Gellert but I can't say were any of those world dominance ones.
Not that I think that Grindelwald was the one to blame for everything. I'm absolutely not buying "the love made him blind/evil" drivel Jo and fans are forking on us.
Hell, I'm not even sure that DD actually was in love with Grindelwald.
I buy him being in lust, happy to find a "intellectual equal", and fascinated with everything Gellert was talking about.
But mostly I think he was "in love" with the plans they were making and the idea of Grindelwald.

By "idea of Grindelwald" I'm talking of the way "should have been Ravenclaw but sorted himself into Gryffindor" Albus must have seen Gellert.
He was much closer to a true Gryffindor. Brave, disregarded rules so much he got kicked out of school, ready to take the world by storm. All those things "wait and see" Albus lacked.
I wonder just how much projection did DD do. And how much of himself (or idealized Gryffindor version of himself) did he see in Gellert?

I wonder what Albus would have done if his mother had lived (longer), so that when Gellert came to Godric's Hollow Albus would have been off with Elphias? What kind of career did he envision for himself?
I tend to think he would be rather Tom-like, but with more self-delusions. Go into politics, raise a militia if that didn't work out, and ultimately end up declaring himself a ~~Dark~~ LIGHT Lord and attempting to take over England because the fuddy-duddy society wouldn't listen to his brilliant ideas. (Even if the title of Light Lord doesn't exist in the HP universe, he'd probably invent it. Delusion springs eternal.)

Gellert knew what he wanted and didn't have to dress it up in delusions of it being 'for so-and-so's own good'. I think Albus rather received a bad shock from looking into a more honest, more bold mirror of his true self.

And, no matter what House he landed in (after all, you can always bargain with the Hat), Albus always was a coward.

"I think it's precisely that.
That DD have always seen himself as a good man. Yes, he wanted to rule, but that would be for best of all! Any sacrifices that had to be made, while regrettable, would be for greater good. He was just so much smarter and more powerful then anybody that it would be only natural for him to be the one to make all decisions.
Still, he would be a benevolent, White / Light wizard and in time all shall love him. (and despair)....

In essence; I think he was very very similar to Tom. But that the main difference was that Tom didn't care about people seeing him as evil, nor did he even believe in good / evil. He just wanted all kinds of power and cared nothing as to how will he get it.
While DD wanted to be loved and seen as good. To go down in history as the next Merlin. And a great force for Good."

I agree completely. Dumbledore definitely seems like the type who would THINK he was good--bearing in mind that this in and of itself does not MAKE him even remotely good.

Like, in my Abridged series I keep joking about how the heroes are totally different from the bad guys because they do one insignificant little thing different from them in a scheme that's otherwise virtually identical. Only that's what Dumbledore really believes.

Even if he shook off Gellert only in disgust for Gellert's having abandoned him to the mess of hushing up their mutual murder, why abandon his grandiose dreams if he hadn’t had a change of heart—and therefore, a heart to change?

How do you know he did abandon his dreams? We have no record of what Scummywhore was doing between 1898 (when he loved and lost Gellert) and 1937 (when he met Tom at the orphanage). That leaves almost forty years in which he could have been running around, pursuing his dreams of being a dictator. Even if you allow 5-10 years for him to have been teaching at Hogwarts before he met Tom (because a novice teacher probably wouldn’t have been sent on home visits), that still leaves 29-34 years for him to have pursued his political ambitions before realizing he would never become a big shot and resigning himself to teaching snotty-nosed brats.

Come to think of it, that makes another thing he has in common with Severus. I’ll bet one big reason Albus loved tormenting Severus with Severus’s powerlessness and professional frustration was because of the self-hate Albus felt about not achieving his own dreams, and being stuck in that dumb school instead of luxuriating in a Versailles-type palace suitable for a world ruler of his (imagined) greatness.

Think of Albus’ grandiose dreams as being like those of millions of other young politicians and performers. In any profession, but especially politics and show business, there are a few people who are fabulously successful, some who are pretty successful, more who are moderately successful, and countless numbers of wannabe failures. And in both of those professions, talent and hard work don’t always pay off. A lot of success is luck, as in having charisma, or being in the right place at the right time with the right product/message.

You’re American. Think of all the wannabe Presidents who run for the Democratic and Republican nominations every election cycle. Yet only one person on each side gets the nomination, and only one of those becomes President. There have been hundreds of those wannabes over our lifetimes, but nobody remembers the names of any but a few of the more recent ones.

Albus could have been like those people, traveling around the country, getting his message out, maybe even leaving Britain to get a wider audience, but just never happening upon that one, serendipitous combination of luck, message, timing, and personality that were necessary to take him from a wannabe to a huge success.

Remember that totalitarian dictators take over in times of great turmoil and stress. When a country is falling apart is when these vermin scurry out of their holes and overrun the government. Although Britain (and the other English-speaking countries, in case he traveled to them) had some bad times during Scummywhore’s lost years, they were never bad enough to lead to the kind of wholesale political and social collapse that would have allowed a dictator to take over. Even Gellert managed to fulfill his ambitions only by returning to Europe, probably Germany, and biding his time for decades. Fortunately for the world, Albus never got that lucky.

We know he did become a member of the Wizengamot at some point, and got involved in international wizarding politics. He did have a faction of followers, the ones who nominated him for Minister possible even before 1945 (if we are to believe what he tells Harry), definitely 3 times by circa 1960 when Tom interviewed with him.

But I don't think he wanted conventional politics. That was too mundane, required him to make the existing system work, and after a few years he'd be replaced. If he was into grandiose dreams he'd want to overturn the system entirely. But not by force. He wanted people to beg for him to save them and take over the show. Which almost happened in the 1040s, except Gellert did not attack Britain, so he was only asked to save Europe but wasn't given any dictator-for-life position in thanks.

1940s. Not 1040s.

I would also guess that for at least a few years of that time, Albus was working on a few things with Flamel. I rather doubt even Albus was so brilliant that Nicholas would collaborate on 'scientific' experiments regarding dragon's blood until after he had taught Albus a thing or two.

And I just don't see that sort of collaboration as one between alchemist and tranfigurator, so my guess is that was probably in the first decade of the 1900s - mostly because I'm sure it was all those school honors that got Albus the introduction. I cannot see Flamel being that interested in a politician.

Great comparisions.

Dumbledore is charming and says all the right things. But what does he do that shows he cares?

Yes, I think what he does, while it can't tell us everything he might think, at least points toward what is important enough to motivate him to act.

For instance: he might believe that giants are being unfairly pushed into too small a territory. But he makes no effort to speak out against stereotypes of giants or stealing giants' land or to have any communication whatsoever with the giant community until suddenly it looks like Voldemort might recruit them to his side. Then he hustles to put together a half-assed diplomatic mission in hopes of thwarting Voldemort's efforts. (Gee, might have been a good idea to do that during the years Voldemort was out of commission so that the giants would be solidly anti-Voldemort if he ever did return... long-term planning, what's that?)

He might believe werewolves are unfairly stigmatized, and that they ought to be supported with medication to alleviate their symptoms and safe and secure places to stay during transformation. He does exactly nothing for the cause of werewolves in general. He does allow young Remus Lupin into Hogwarts--in 1971, right when Voldemort's rise is getting serious and is presumably out recruiting dark creatures to his side. Let the werewolf kid come to Hogwarts and develop loyalty to the generous Dumbledore instead! After graduation, Lupin can go hang for all Dumbledore cares--until the summer Sirius Black escapes and suddenly he's just the man for that job opening. (Where Dumbledore can keep an eye on him and see if Black tries to contact him, either as an ally or as a secondary target.) Then he's handy as a temporary hideout for Sirius, and then as a spy/recruiter.

Maybe he cares for the plight of mistreated house-elves and supports greater elf freedoms. He isn't averse to paying Dobby and letting Dobby back-talk him. (Though Dobby is very open about being extremely devoted to the Great Harry Potter. Having a fanboy/voluntary servant on hand to guard and aid his Chosen Sacrificial One until the right time sounds like a service worth paying for.) The Hogwarts elves appear to be generally well treated. On the other hand, we have no evidence that he ever attempted to research whether house-elf binding has been imposed by wizards, or at least twisted to their purposes, never mind counteracting that for the Hogwarts elves. He never says anything in public against abusing elves. His advice to Harry about Kreacher is practical war considerations--can't let him get free with valuable intelligence, and don't mistreat him because he might turn on you.

Muggles? Well, he's against harming them for sport, at least in theory. (Teaching them a lesson is totally different.) He thinks one can gain useful information from their newspapers sometimes. He isn't agitating for wizards to openly rule Muggles these days. He keeps Muggle Studies as a subject. He doesn't actually hang out with any Muggles, or consult them on issues that might affect them, or encourage wizards to get familiar with Muggle culture. He won't even deign to dress in ordinary Muggle clothing when he's trying to blend in (orphanage visit, plum velvet--come on, Mr. Crouch can manage to dress Muggle and he's a Pureblood!).

He at least claims to know a lot of what goes on at the school, and he allows rampant bullying for decades. He tells Tom back in 1937 that thieving is not tolerated at Hogwarts, and we know that Luna's roommates steal her stuff all year, every year in the 1990s, and that's one of the mildest, kindest examples. Under his guidance, his teachers find the idea of transfiguring students into animals and slamming them against stone floors mildly shocking but deserving of nothing more than a warning not to do it again.

He might be the one who disallowed whippings as punishment, however. That's something.

So... whatever he feels in his heart of hearts, what motivates Albus to do something is usually if it opposes Voldemort somehow. Magical species mistreated? That's a shame. Lemon drop? Voldemort might use this fact to recruit? Oops, maybe I should try talking to them first!

And DD probably doesn't understand why the Werewolvs and Giants don't jump at his offer. So what if I've never done anything for you before, don't you understand how great and caring I am?

I've just thought of something else: I'm going through OotP for purposes of abridging, and I realize that Dumbledore actually does appear to be aware and faintly sorry about the way wizards treat non-magicals (in some cases)--he is willing to give Dobby money if he asks for it, for example, and he recognizes that the wizards are pushing the giants to marginal areas and that the fountain in the MoM is wrong to show other creatures being happy that witches and wizards are in charge. So that, at least, suggests that he is aware of right and wrong, in a way that goes beyond simply knowing how to fake it. Of course, this in and of itself is not a testament of goodness--evil isn't a sliding scale in which everyone who does X is guaranteed to do A-W as well.

He does manage to identify some structural injustices in the ww and to look beyond the obvious explanations--e.g. that the giants are particularly violent right now because they're overcrowded, not just because they're "naturally savage." But as you say, just being aware doesn't automatically equal goodness. I think there's a tendency to feel that someone who avoids blatant prejudices like "well giants must just be awful then!" or "house-elves should be treated like dirt because they are dirt!" therefore is fair and empathetic, when sometimes they just have a more thorough intellectual understanding and more subtle, or at least different, prejudices. Possibly he recognizes that overcrowding of a species can lead to increased violence, and considers this a problem mainly because it could negatively impact wizards eventually, so wizards should not cause problems which will come back to bite them in the long term.

It also occurs to me that, for Gilderoy Lockhart to think that "harmony between magical and non-magical peoples" was something that would gain him popularity points, there must be some kind of... probably not an equal rights for all species faction, but at least a pro-tolerance-for-most faction or something in the ww even though we never see much of it. There might be people writing letters to the editor in the Prophet about the wretchedly old-fashioned and very much in poor taste statue in the Ministry. Dumbledore pays attention, and has cast in his lot with this side, but might be just quoting others' ideas rather than actually thinking these things up himself.

Whether he chose that side out of good motives or some sort of pragmatic purpose (like, he thinks it will win in the long run--certainly it doesn't take a genius to recognize that a decreasing number of inbred isolationist families might not actually be a good bet) is harder to judge.

We know he didn't entirely give up on immortality research. He just switched from a Hallows questing adventure to studying with Flamel and getting a pet phoenix. (And then if a Hallows happened to drop into his lap anyway, well...)

World domination is a lot messier and more work than it sounds like when you're just scheming with your buddy. The fight that killed Ariana might have demonstrated that. All he wanted was to convince his brother that he could too drag their sister around Europe like luggage and he couldn't even manage that without things blowing up in his face; world domination would probably be a never-ending nightmare of those dratted Other People not cooperating and getting blown up left and right. That would be super-frustrating and would really cut into his free time, you know? (Which isn't to say he couldn't have felt remorse about the incident and decided it was a bad path; it just isn't incontrovertible evidence that he did and there's a more cold-hearted possibility.) So, was the goal really worth the effort? Nah... Maybe he should try being vaguely influential in politics. Or shaping young minds, yes, that might be nice. Especially if he could get high enough in the administration not to have to bother with actually teaching anymore.

Who knows about the Birdbath of Doom. Maybe he had enough conscience to feel remorse once he had absolutely no choice, but not enough for it not to be nicely squashable when convenient for the rest of his life. Or maybe the effects are temporary. Or, as suggested, he had an antidote, or was faking it.

The big possibility I see is that he put a stop to whippings at Hogwarts. Now, iirc you thought of a thoroughly selfish reason for him to have done that, and another possibility is that with changing Muggle attitudes, he made some adjustments to avoid any problems from younger kids who might write home to their parents before they'd been thoroughly assimilated and complain about the barbaric treatment. Probably the parents wouldn't be able to do anything, but why make Muggle parents harder to handle than necessary--and more importantly, if a few tweaks can make it easier for the Muggleborn kids to feel comfortable and get sucked in early on, why not do that?

But it is at least possible that he had a genuine ethical objection to whipping children. Eventually, possibly over 10 years after becoming headmaster judging by Arthur's scars. But hey, sometimes it takes a while to reevaluate a practice which has been a common and expected part of one's life for over a century. He might deserve some credit here.

There is also the infamous Gleam of Triumph^TM when he realized that Harry might not have to die after all. Was that just about not even giving Voldemort the satisfaction (yet again!), or was he genuinely happy that Harry might live, either because he did kind of like the kid in particular or because he didn't like people to die in general or both?

On the negative side, if one can believe Pottermore, he suspected what Lockhart was up to with all the memory wiping, and offered him the DADA job specifically to bring his schemes to light somehow. Which means he deliberately invited a known callous mind-wiper into a position of authority over children. Was there really no other way to stop Lockhart? Surely a few anonymous tips to a certain yellow journalist would have sufficed? After a Skeeter expose, surely he could have pulled a few strings to get a proper investigation started? (Hey, if you have a corrupt media and a corrupt government, might as well make them work for a good cause for a change...) Seriously, if Ron's wand hadn't conveniently malfunctioned, Ron and the Chosen One would have been drooling in the closed ward at St. Mungo's, and then where would we be?

One doesn't have to go to Pottermore regarding Gilderoy. When Dumbles realizes Gilderoy lost his memory he says, "Impaled upon your own sword, Gilderoy!" It is canon that Dumbles knew Gilderoy was into memory Charms, the only question is how much. (And since there was nothing in the book to imply he actually used Memory Charms that year before going down to the Chamber the realization must have been based on his deeds prior to being hired.)

As for the Chosen One - a drooling Chosen One is even more convenient to set up to be killed by Tom.

He won his immortality in the end. If the headmaster portraits are as sensitive as we saw in DH... Well, he has no body, but - maybe this is the next adventure he was talking about? A life of a wise and respected advisor with access to lot of information - but without a body?

Oh! Another thought. What is Dumbledore like when no one is watching?

We only see this once, in PS/SS chapter 1. He pops into a dark street, thinking he's unobserved. Voldemort is gone--though Dumbledore knows he isn't dead, just presently weakened and bodiless. He's on that street because he's planning to leave a baby--an orphan because his parents, Dumbledore's young followers, have just been murdered--on a doorstep to be raised in what he admits later he knows will be dark, difficult circumstances.

He's twinkling.

Now, sure, plenty of wizards are celebrating. Even a temporary reprieve from Voldemort is a huge relief. But even if he had lots of happy moments earlier in the day, surely being on Privet Drive waiting for Hagrid and Harry would turn his mind toward more somber thoughts, like "this poor kid, stuck with people who will fear and possibly hate him," or, "his poor parents so young so tragic :-( ." But the twinkle doesn't dim in the slightest until McGonagall starts acting all concerned and asking about the murders like she might possibly be a little upset.

I don't know. Maybe Dumbledore does have the capacity for empathy and truly feeling right and wrong, but it's just... er, severely hampered? Doesn't kick in automatically, it's something he has to think about before it activates? Is really easily suppressed if he thinks his feelings are getting in the way of doing what he has decided is a brilliant plan? That might give him enough for some impulse toward wanting to think of himself as Good and liking to be lauded as Good, without being very, well, good at being good.

Maybe DD is better at theory than at practice. He and Gellert can rule the world, and no one, especially no one in his family, could possibly get hurt... until it happened. It looks good on paper but doesn't fly in real life. His naive dreams were knocked on their flabby buttocks and it hurt.

And, maybe that carries over to everything else. He compartmentalizes too well - he twinkles when it's inappropriate, because he didn't witness anything, so it's all theory, nothing concrete. He knows, intellectually, that the Potters are dead and their son is going to live with people who resent and fear his parents and their world, but it isn't proven, and besides, it's all for the greater good, so of course nothing can go wrong... until it does.

He refuses to, or is incapable of, seeing problems with his grandiose plans, until they happen. He's a master of self-delusion, and he never gets over it. He's constantly turning lemons into half-assed lemonade, scrambling to patch up messes of his own making, without admitting that he caused them in the first place. He will not see his own failings.

That might work. He is capable of, say, feeling bad about someone dying--but not unless he really stops and thinks about what it means, that this person is really and truly dead. It isn't quite real otherwise. Likewise, hypothetical suffering doesn't trigger any emotional response; he has to actually see it right in front of his face and make the effort to imagine how he would feel in that situation too. And if he isn't making an effort to imagine how some action might affect people, he just plain forgets that it might hurt someone.

So he can act quite callously, because most of the time he doesn't register the possibility that anyone feels differently about things than he does. And probably if he decides that feeling sympathy in some particular situation is counter-productive to the Greater Good, he can squash any such feelings easily should he actually manage to feel them. But he has just enough scraps of empathy and conscience to be affected by the Birdbath, and to prefer thinking of himself as a Good Person.

Hm. Now I'm going to have to review and see how well that fits. I do kind of like the idea that Dumbledore had the potential to be different from Tom, who was apparently "funny" since birth, but utterly failed to develop the bit of potential he had and so ended up being a more charming, socially acceptable version. (Probably with some help from the scarily messed up wizarding world, which seems bent on crushing the decency out of its youth...) It's boring if all the villains were just born that way.

Re-reading PS/SS chapter 1 with the "knave or fool" question in mind, this quote struck me differently than it ever has before:

"Yes," said Dumbledore. "He'll have that scar forever."
"Couldn't you do something about it, Dumbledore?"
"Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in handy."

Cut for quirky misdirection about his scar that maps the London Underground.

Even if he could "do something" about the scar, he wouldn't? At this point, Dumbledore at least strongly suspects that the scar is the entry wound/attachment point for a bit of Voldemort's soul. And he wouldn't "do something" about that? Because it's useful? Um.

Okay, maybe he means exactly what Minerva probably thinks he means: that even if he could erase the visible mark on Harry's face, he wouldn't. Because that wouldn't make a difference soul-wise anyway, and it might be useful in some innocuous fashion, say as a reminder to Harry someday that he'd survived one terrible thing and could again. Such a monumental misdirection would be perfectly in character.

But seriously, knowing what Dumbledore probably knows about that scar, it's really hard not to see a double meaning on re-reading. Even if he could go back in time and warn the Potters in time, so that Harry never got the scar, he wouldn't, because it might be useful? Or maybe, even if he could remove/kill the Voldiebit and leave Harry alone in his own soul right now, he wouldn't, because it might be useful?

Useful for what? The only "useful" function of that Horcrux at that point in time is keeping Voldemort alive-ish. If he thinks that Voldemort is mostly dead, anchored only by the soul-bit in Harry('s forehead), surely he would wish he could zap it out and make Voldemort all the way dead. Wouldn't he?

Unless he already suspects multiple Horcruxes, and thinks the Harrycrux will somehow be useful against them somehow. (Already planning for Scar-O-Vision?)

Or unless keeping Voldemort alive-ish, constantly threatening to return, is useful to Dumbledore.

Probably Rowling was just writing sloppily, and Dumbledore was getting mixed up with The Author. (It's useful because it advances the story!) But it sure allows for some unsettling Watsonian interpretation.

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Knave or Fool?

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Playing at remorse in the cave?

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Ostracized Slytherins

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