Titanium by waggishremarks
Summary: "I deserve to know." When Dumbledore reveals the secrets of Harry's past after the disastrous events of his first year, Harry's fate is sealed. At his own insistence, he disappears to be trained and protected without a word to anyone. Six years later, life forces him back into the halls of Hogwarts and into the lives of the friends he left behind. But the Harry they knew is gone. In his place is a cold, calculating, distant young man haunted by the decisions he made as an eleven-year-old boy.
A/N: This is a story that popped into my head today. It's one of those stories that wouldn't leave me alone until I started it. I've always wondered what would have happened if Dumbledore had just been honest with Harry and told him the truth in his first year - I understand that Dumbledore didn't want to rob Harry of his childhood, but he kind of did. By not telling Harry, he forced Harry to worry all the time about if Voldemort was going to come after him. In this story, Harry is pro-active about defeating Voldemort. The repercussions of that decision, however, is what this story is all about.
This is just the prologue. The following chapters will be much longer and have much more original content in them.
Enjoy.
[Italics taken from:
Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, American ed. p. 298 – 299 and Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, American ed. p. 839 and 844]
Harry lay there, lost for words. Dumbledore hummed a little and smiled at the ceiling.
"Sir?" said Harry. "I've been thinking … Sir – even if the Stone's gone, Vol-, I mean, You-Know-Who – "
"Call him Voldemort, Harry. Always use the proper name for things. Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself."
"Yes, sir. Well, Voldemort's going to try other ways of coming back, isn't he? I mean, he hasn't gone, has he?"
"No, Harry, he has not. He is still out there somewhere, perhaps looking for another body to share … not being truly alive, he cannot be killed. He left Quirrell to die; he shows just as little mercy to his followers as his enemies. Nevertheless, Harry, while you may only have delayed his returned to power, it will merely take someone else who is prepared to fight what seems a losing battle next time – and if he is delayed again, and again, why, he may never return to power."
Harry nodded, but stopped quickly, because it made his head hurt. Then he said, "Sir, there are some things I'd like to know, if you can tell me … things I want to know the truth about …"
"The truth." Dumbledore sighed. "It is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with great caution. However, I shall answer your questions unless I have a very good reason not to, in which case I beg you'll forgive me. I shall not, of course, lie."
"Well … Voldemort said that he only killed my mother because she tried to stop him from killing me. But why would he want to kill me in the first place?"
Dumbledore sighed very deeply this time.
"Alas, the first thing you ask me, I cannot tell you. Not today. Not now. You will know, one day … put it from your mind for now, Harry. When you are older, I know you hate to hear this … when you are ready, you will know."
Harry observed the sheets on his bed for a long moment, and then raised his eyes to Dumbledore's. "Hagrid told me," he began slowly, "that no one lived if Voldemort wanted him or her dead. But I did. And if he'd still out there, I don't think he'll stop until I'm out of his way." He swallowed. "I deserve to know."
Dumbledore fixed him with a calculating look. "You really wish to have a burden upon your shoulders that even grown men should not have? Your childhood will be gone – your innocence will be lost to you forever," he said in a very serious tone that took Harry by surprise.
But Harry nodded anyway, and Dumbledore sighed. "Then I shall tell you," he said sadly. "But I should have liked to have waited until you were older – to be sure that you could handle such news –" He shook himself. "But you have fought a man's fight – you are a man enough for this."
And so Albus Dumbledore settled back in his chair, straightened his golden half-moon glasses, and folded his hands across the place where his long white beard was tucked into his belt. "I shall start at the very beginning," he said. "You see, Voldemort tried to kill you when you were a child because of a prophecy made shortly before your birth …"
In the course of the next fifteen minutes, Harry Potter's life changed forever. What Dumbledore said was true – his childhood vanished. His innocence was taken from him. He would never laugh the way other children did again. He would never again see the world with the wide-eyed stare of a child. Instead, the world turned into a colder place, one where good and evil are not so well defined, and where the lines separating the two are blurred so much until there is the gray space between them.
"So," said Harry, dredging up the words from what felt like a deep well of despair inside him, "so does that mean that … that one of us has got to kill the other one … in the end?"
"Yes," said Dumbledore.
For a long time, neither of them spoke. Somewhere far beyond the hospital wing walls, Harry could hear the sound of voices, students heading down to the Great Hall for lunch, perhaps. It seemed impossible that there could be people in the world who still desire food, who laughed, who neither knew nor cared that he was now a marked man. People carried on with their daily lives, and he no longer could. They would be free to grow up how they pleased, be friends with who they wanted, laugh without worrying about the next moment.
"Professor," said Harry in a small voice, "I want to go away from Hogwarts."
Dumbledore looked startled at this. "Go away from Hogwarts?"
"Yes," said Harry in a firmer voice, and straightened his back. "I want to go away and start learning how to beat him. I don't want to wait for the next six years to start training for this. I want to start now."
There was a moment of silence, and then Dumbledore rose from his chair. "I think that is a very good idea."
"He's gone? What do you mean, he's gone?"
Albus Dumbledore sighed and resisted the urge to rub his eyes tiredly. "What I mean, Mr. Weasley, is that Harry has been removed from Hogwarts," he said calmly, gazing at Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger with a sad expression on his face. "Harry and I spoke and came to a decision together. He will not be returning to school."
"Then where is he?" Hermione asked at once, her hands twisting in her lap. "Is he hurt? Is he in danger?"
"He is in excellent health," Albus replied, steepling his fingers on the top of his desk. "He is not in any danger." He leaned forward slightly. "I'm sorry, Miss Granger – I cannot tell you anymore."
"Can't we write to him?" Ron pleaded, and his face looked so desperate that Albus almost gave in. Instead, he shook his head.
"I'm afraid owls will not be able to reach Harry where he's at. I imagine that he will be out of touch for a very long time …"
How long that would be, no one knew.
Halfway across the world, Harry Potter was being introduced to his new life. He rose at five every morning regardless of the day. He ran ten miles by six. He ate lots of protein and carbohydrates for breakfast. He lifted weights until nine. He studied hand-to-hand combat until lunch. He studied magical combat until five. He was given a break until dinner. He studied politics and advanced magic until eight. Then he went to sleep.
This was to be his days for the next six years of his life.
