Waiting for Maxima

Albus Dumbledore was tired of losing, tired of death and of blood and carnage. He had been fighting for so long, there had to be another way through, a way that would preserve the light, it was all he had left-the fight for the good. Sure, there had been darkness before, those corrupted by the power, the ability magic gave. Yet none had come so sudden and with such force as Tom Riddle. It was as if one day he was a mere student, a charms protégé and the next, bodies lay mangled and strewn in his wake. In response, he had created his own weapon; a girl just as powerful, just as frightening growing just out of the focus of the public eye- his own instrument of light. She would guide the magical community through, she had to. He had sacrificed so much for her mere existence in his moment of time. He had done things, that even she, would never forgive him for.