[Text of a drafted speech composed by Albus Dumbledore, to be addressed to the Department of Mysteries on 31.7.91. The date holds the dual significance of H.J. Potter’s 11th birthday and the eve of the NeXTSTEP WorldWideWeb browser’s public release, both matters of high interest to the DoM. The speech, long rumoured within the wizarding intelligence community, has been alluded to in various Ministry documents but has never been released in full until now, reconstructed from Pensieve memories dated 28.7.91 – 31.7.91. Whether or not the speech was actually delivered may never be known; its contents undoubtedly spread within the Department and, according to testimony from current and former DMLE and DoM personnel, are widely quoted within the British Ministry to this day.]
A new danger is upon us. Wizards we may be, but magic does not belong to us alone. Muggle mages with knowledge far surpassing our own have unlocked secrets smaller than we can perceive and plumbed depths farther than we can imagine. They have split the atom; they have travelled to the moon; they have solved the mysteries of blood, of thought, of flight. And now, in what we might call a fortress in the Swiss Alps, they have discovered the power of information.
Imagine: without even a wave of the wand, access to all the world’s knowledge. Texts, photographs, memories – perhaps one day, riches, fame, and death. A wizard 50 years ago – a muggle yes, but a wizard all the same – said upon viewing the first atomic explosion, ‘I am become death, the destroyer of worlds.’ Perhaps he had. But now, tomorrow, his descendents bring that power to every being on earth, united in their universally spun, and mutually entangled, web.
There are those in this Department who believe that our own technology can save us, that our Ministry’s artifice can control our community by means of our superior magical innovations. But control can only go so far. To preserve our world, we must preserve our culture. And when our culture is threatened by weapons beyond our control, so must we weaponize that culture. Weaponize it – in order to save it.
This is the myth we tell ourselves: ten years ago this October, this Department witnessed the birth of our greatest hope. The Boy Who Lived, the destroyer of death, the infant who out-duelled the most dangerous evil our world has ever seen. As many of you know, this boy’s victory was not complete. That evil lives on. This very office, every day, contemplates the secrets of its vitality. And so, we wait for the day when we must, once again, defeat it.
But we – those of us here today – we know this to be a myth. This, then, is our truth: Lord Voldemort is a mere shadow of the evil that faces not only our world, but all of humankind. Far greater threats than magic face the wizarding community – and perhaps it is not magic alone that can save it. But nevertheless, we must hold onto this faith. Magic is might. Magic is the greatest force that this universe contains. And magic alone can defeat magic.
The Boy Who Lived, the son of James and Lily Potter, today turns 11. Tomorrow, the World Wide Web will be released upon the world. It is our responsibility to turn our eyes away from the snares of this Web, gazing only upon the brilliance of this child, the child who will once again defeat the forces of darkness. Because magic alone threatens us, and magic alone will save us. This is the new myth, a myth that must become truth. No muggle can save us, no muggle can destroy us. No muggle can even tempt us. Magic – magic alone – unites us, and magic alone defines us.
This Department will raise this Potter child to become a soldier against death. We will train him in wizardry, in bravery, and in the ancient powers of love and light. We will expose him to the horrors of darkness, and we will blind him with the belief that he, and he alone, can defeat that darkness. What’s more, we will teach our community – Britain, yes, but the entire wizarding world – that this boy’s truth belongs to all of us. When Voldemort returns – and yes, he will return – this boy will meet him, wand in hand, chin held high, scar ablaze. He will meet death – and he will be victorious.
In the coming years, the human race will crumble under the cornerstones of its apotheosis. But the wizarding race – those men who have long since become death, and who have nevertheless refused to turn away from its blinding light – will once again bend our necks heavenward. We will not be met with darkness. We will prevail.
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THE PENSIEVE PAPERS 