Standard Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters-they belong, of course, to JK Rowling.
A/N I wrote this story soon after finishing book 7; it's just taken me a long time to post it online.
It's just a short one-shot; I felt there were some things that Harry should have asked Dumbledore in Kings Cross that he never did.
Please leave me a review to let me know what you thought, I appreciate constructive criticism.
Enjoy!
Harry Potter, the saviour of the modern Wizarding world who had cheated death more times than he cared to remember, as well as defeating the most evil wizard of all time just the day before; was scared. After everything he'd been through, Harry was scared to open the door to his old headmaster's office. He couldn't understand why it was so difficult to walk in and talk to the portrait of Dumbledore when just the day before he had done it so easily.
But at the time, he had just been desperate to see him, to show him that he had survived and that together they had beaten Voldemort-they had won. He had been so exhausted; he had been unable to think of anything else.
Now though, there were things he needed to know.
How could Dumbledore have said in Harry's fifth year that he was telling him "everything"? How long had Dumbledore known that Harry was a horcrux? But the truth was that as badly as he wanted to ask those questions, he was scared of the answers Dumbledore would give him.
"Does it have anything to do with the prophecy? Will it help me…survive?"
"It has a very great deal to do with the prophecy," Dumbledore replied as casually as if Harry had asked him about the next day's weather, "and I certainly hope that it will help you survive."
Harry remembered that conversation from almost two years previously as if it had only just happened. If he had genuinely cared for him, how could Dumbledore have looked him in the eye and said that to him when he knew Harry must die?
With a sudden decisiveness, Harry pushed open the office door; determined to know what had been going on in the man's head all these years. At the end of Harry's fifth year Dumbledore had filled him in on a lot of the story, whilst missing out a lot of rather important facts. Now Albus had no excuses to hold anything back from Harry, and he deserved answers.
Harry entered the familiar circular room, and was momentarily taken aback. For the first time in his memory all the portraits on the wall, save for one, were empty. Every last one of them was void of it's occupant except for the largest one directly behind the desk, in which there sat old man with long grey hair. He sat there silently, watching Harry approach the chair opposite the desk with his usual patience and calmness.
It was as though the old wizard in the portrait had been waiting there hours for Harry; knowing that he would want to talk to him privately for one last time.
For a long time both men sat there simply looking at each other; Dumbledore waiting patiently for the younger man to break the silence, whilst Harry was trying to figure out exactly what he wanted to say.
"I owe you a lot. I really do, and I know that. Without you, Voldemort would still be at large."
Dumbledore smiled sadly, the usual twinkle in his eyes absent. "You give me far too much credit."
Harry chose to ignore this, still not knowing exactly what he wanted to say, but certain he would get there in the end.
"Professor McGonagall told me before I came here that it was a bad idea to talk to you in the same way I would have done with the real Albus Dumbledore. She told me that it can stop people from moving on with their lives. I know you're just a portrait; you're not the real thing. But I need some more answers- answers only you can give me."
"It's true, my dear boy. I am not the real thing. But I have been expecting you to come, and believe it or not, I know some of the things you are thinking. I always tried never to lie to you, but I can admit now that I told you half-truths a lot of the time, and for that I can only ask you for your forgiveness."
"I know you had your reasons."
"Yes. Yes, I did. But it does not change the fact that I was forced to…manipulate you, or at least your situation, more than I can forgive myself for. But now, Harry, my reasons are no longer there, and I owe you answers to any questions you wish to ask."
Harry was silent for a few minutes, unable to look into the blue eyes he could feel piercing him.
"I had…a piece of Voldemort's soul inside of me. All along."
"Yes."
"And you knew it. How long did you know? How could you ever talk to me normally, knowing what was inside of me? Knowing what I would ultimately have to do?"
Despite the gravity of what he was saying, Harry was talking calmly; as though he was simply enquiring about a homework problem. This time it was Dumbledore who lowered his gaze, needing the time to find the right words. Eventually he spoke, and as he did Harry got the very strong impression that Dumbledore had both been dreading and longing to tell Harry everything.
"I told you in your fifth year, that when I saw the scar on your forehead for the first time, such a long time ago, that I guessed what it could mean. That it represented some form of a connection between you and Riddle.
"At this point, the idea that he had made you an accidental horcrux was just a passing notion, something I didn't really believe. I was naïve, Harry, a fool. The idea that a part of the soul of possibly the most evil wizard ever to live was inside that innocent baby was too horrible to even consider. I dismissed the idea, thinking that even if Voldemort had made a Horcrux, his soul would not be unstable enough for something like that to happen by accident. Bear in mind Harry, at this point I had not even considered the possibility that Voldemort had made more than one Horcrux. Even the most terrible wizards in history had only ever considered making one.
"Over the next few years, I spent a lot of time and effort collecting all those memories of Tom Riddle that I showed you last year, and trying to research other things that could have caused that scar on your forehead.
"And then you entered your first year at school here. Immediately I became more concerned about your scar. I knew that, even then, you could feel pain in it every now and then, and that should not have been possible. But still, the idea that your soul was harbouring part of Voldemort's was so terrible; I could not admit to myself that it was a possibility. I told you before, I know now that you were ready, even at that age to know about the prophecy. But I could not bring myself to do that to you, and I couldn't even consider discussing horcruxes with you. I hope you know, Harry that I was not lying to you about that. I really did care about you too much."
The blue eyes met the green again, and Harry said nothing; wanting to believe Dumbledore's words after all the doubts he'd had over the past year. After a moment, Dumbledore continued.
"Then at the end of your second year, you handed me that diary. I told you last year; that was when I realised Riddle must have made more than one Horcrux. You were a Parselmouth, and I know you felt an inexplicable familiarity with Tom Riddle. Everything was starting to make sense in the most horrific way possible. It was then, Harry, when you left McGonagall's office, that I thought it through and could only come to one conclusion. Voldemort had made multiple Horcruxes, and his soul had been so unstable that a part of it had attached itself onto you that fateful night.
"I could not even bring myself to tell you about the prophecy, so how could I manipulate you, and raise you "like a pig to the slaughter" as Severus so brutally worded it?
"You need to know, my dear boy, how terrible it was for the next few years, knowing what I did about you; that you would ultimately have to sacrifice yourself. You need to know how hard I worked for the next two years trying to find a way to destroy the portion of Riddle's soul inside of you without killing you in the process. Despite my efforts I found no such way; the only way to rid of a horcrux is to destroy its vessel.
"And then, two years later you described the way Voldemort returned to power. You told me that he had used your blood to do it; that your blood now ran in his veins. At that moment, I knew. I knew that Voldemort had inadvertently accomplished what I had so hopelessly been unable to do: He had found a way to save you."
Harry remembered then how, in that terrible night in his fourth year, he had seen a gleam of triumph in Dumbledore's eyes. He nodded, "I saw that moment. I saw you realise something. You looked triumphant for a split second, but it passed so quickly I thought I had imagined it."
Dumbledore sighed wearily again. "Yes. I knew then that you could survive. But I also knew that the path that lay ahead of you was dark and difficult, and that we had such a long way to go. I knew that the time would come that you would have to sacrifice yourself, without knowing that you had a chance to survive.
"I watched you closely the next year; saw how the dreadful connection between the two of you grew, now completely certain that my theory was correct. The connection between your minds had grown not only because Voldemort was at full power again, but because of the fact that he had used your blood in that potion.
"Telling you about the Horcruxes in your sixth year whilst knowing that there was one inside of you was harder than you can imagine. And then I had to let Severus believe that we had been protecting you just so that you could die at the right moment. I knew he would show you that memory, and you had to believe that you must die.
"Not many people could have done what you did. It's true that many people will sacrifice themselves for a loved one, as your mother did for you. But that normally happens quickly. They do it on instinct, without really thinking; what you had to do was infinitely harder. You are one of the only people brave enough to do something like that."
Harry shook his head, remembering the soul-consuming terror he had felt on that walk into the forest, believing it to be the end. "I wasn't brave. If you hadn't left me the resurrection stone, I don't think I would have been able to do it. I wouldn't have had the strength."
"Have you ever heard the muggle quotation Harry; 'Courage is not the absence of fear, but merely the judgement that there is something more important'? What you did then was the epitome of bravery and selflessness. I have told you before; I have long known that you are a much greater man than I."
Both men were lost in thought again for a few moments.
"Does that help you, Harry? I know I have treated you unfairly, and again I can only ask your forgiveness. But never believe for a second that it was easy for me; that I didn't care for you. It's cruel that I will not get the chance to know you know now you have defeated Riddle; now that I am not keeping any terrible secrets from you. I do not wish you to remember me in anger; for you to hate me."
"I don't hate you; I really don't. I won't deny that I have doubted you a few times over this last year; with how difficult you made everything. You've already explained that to me though. You were waiting for me at King's Cross."
Dumbledore raised his eyebrows, "Kings Cross?"
"Yes. That's where I went after Voldemort cast the killing curse at me. It was just a representation in my mind of course; I think I was somewhere in between this life and…well the next, I guess. And you were waiting for me there; I guess now you've moved on."
Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling again now. "Yes; after all, to the well-organised mind-"
"Death is but the next great adventure. I guess it's a shame Tom Riddle never figured that out. I've seen what's become of him now; at King's Cross, that part of his soul was there too." Harry shuddered remembering the pitiful creature he had seen there. "It was…awful."
"Yes, I can imagine it was. Perhaps, now that it's far too late, he truly realises what he has done."
"I gave him a chance, you know; to repent. I never believed he deserved it of course, but after I saw that creature at King's Cross, I had to give him the opportunity."
"Tom Riddle became far beyond our help a long time ago, Harry." Dumbledore sighed, "Don't expend any energy pitying him; he made his own choices."
"I know."
"You have your own life to worry about now. You have earned the right to be selfish for a while. You need to do something for yourself. Do you know what you want to do now?"
Harry smiled a little sadly, thinking of the people he had lost; the life without them that lay ahead, and looked away from Dumbledore. "Right now, I have a few more things to do. Kingsley's been named temporary Minister, and he needs my help with a few things. There's going to be a big memorial for everyone who died in both the first and second wars.
"Then, in the future I might still try to become an Auror; I can still do a lot of good. There's a lot I've learned these past years about weaknesses of the ministry and wizards- a lot needs changing, and I think I can help. I don't feel I deserve it, but I reckon the people will listen to me. To them, I think I'll always be the Boy-Who-Lived; the Chosen One. I need to get my NEWTs before I can do that though. I'll probably take a break next year; get my NEWTs and then decide for sure what I want to do."
He looked up again to see Dumbledore surveying him proudly. "The ministry would be lucky to have you with them. You have shown that you deal with leadership and responsibility much better than I ever could have done. The power will never go to your head."
Harry got to his feet once more.
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"For everything, I guess. I think McGonagall was right; it's not good for me to talk to you, it keeps you alive for me. I'm not sure I should again, at least not for a few years. At least I know for sure now that there's some form of life beyond this one, and that I will see you there, along with my parents and Sirius."
"Indeed; but not for a long time yet, I hope. If you ever do need help with anything, know that I am still here. Not as good as the real thing of course, but I hope I could still be of use to you at some point a few years down the line."
"I'm sure you will be; but right now it's not a good idea."
The man in the portrait got to his feet; and though it could have been his imagination, Harry thought he could see a glimmer of tears in those brilliant blue eyes.
"Goodbye for now then, Harry."
"Goodbye sir."