He was angry. He was so, so angry. He wanted answers. He wasn't some naughty little kid that they could just pat on the end and send to bed, telling him that everything was fine and that he needn't worry. He'd defeated Voldemort four times for Merlin's sake! What more could they want?
Harry looked over the banaster at the Order member's bellow. He was waiting... waiting... for him... and there he is. Albus Dumbledore exited the basement kitchen and began making his way to the door, nodding and smiling plesantly as some members said goodbye to him.
But the Headmaster's leave would soon be delaied.
Hand's curcled into determind fist's, Harry dashed down the stairs, ignoring Ron and Hermione's startled call's, and he pushed passed Order members, ignoring their shocked cries of "Harry!"/"Potter!"
"Dumbledore!" Harry shouted. The Headmaster froze, halfway down the hall. And, very slowly, he turned around to look at Harry, who stopped just a few feet away from him.
"Yes, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, smiling at Harry's left shoulder.
"We need to talk." Harry said, his anger flaring as the old man refused to meet his gaze.
"I'm sorry, Harry, but I'm afraid I cannot chat. I've some rather important things I need to-"
"I want answer's." Harry cut him off, his glare becoming yet more heated, "And I want them now."
"Harry-"
"Don't "Harry" me!" the boy snapped, his nails digging into his palm. Some of the Order members behind him began making portest's, but most were to shocked to say anything. Harry ignored them.
"I want the answers that I deserve." He said, trying to keep his anger at bay. For now.
"And you will get them. Just not right now." Dumbledore said and he suddenly looked a thousand years older. Yet he still didn't meet his gaze.
"Look me in the eye!" Harry said, his anger once again flaring. "Look me in the eye when you talk to me!"
"Potter- !"
"Shut the fuck up, Snape!" Harry yelled, not looking behind him. He knew the Potion's Master had just been frozen in shock. He took advantage of this.
"I want the answers." Harry said, his voice cold and quiet. "And you know that if I don't get them, somone's going to die."
"Harry!" Mrs. Weasley's voice said and Harry pictured, in his minds eye, her marching over to him, face red with rage and a scolding on the tip of her tounge.
"Your not my mum!" Harry snapped, still looking at Dumbledore, "And you've got no fucking idea what the hell I've been through!"
Mrs. Weasley gasped and Harry heard her spluttering in shock.
"Harry..."
The boy's breath nearly catched, but he refused to look behind him, keeping his eyes firmly on Dumbledore, refusing to look over his shoulder at the dissapointed look that was sure to be on his godfather's face.
"Well?" Harry said, "Are you going to tell me or is someone going to die?"
Dumbledore didn't answer. Didn't meet his eyes.
"Do you trust me, Harry?" Dumbledore asked after a long moment, still staring at Harry's shoulder.
Harry stared at him for a moment and felt another flare of anger when the Headmaster still refused to meet his eyes.
"No." And even as he said it, he knew it was true.
There were some shocked gasp's from behind him, but Harry did not look. He remained staring at the one he'd once, long ago, trusted.
"I see." Dumbledore said, the twinkle gone from his blue eyes. "Well... I'll be seeing you, Harry."
He turned and walked out the door, Harry and the Order staring at his retreating form, before the polished wood concealed him.
Harry stood there for a moment. Before he turned on his heel and stalked passed the gapping Order members, catching the gaping Mrs. Weasley and the surprised Sirius out of the corner of his eye, and up the stairs.
"Harry," Ron said, when the boy was level with him on the stairs, his mouth hanging open. "Is that true?"
Harry stared at the redhead for a moment, "Yes. It's true." He marched passed the teen's and into his and Ron's bedroom.
Sighing, Harry looked down at his hands, which he now realized where throbbing, blood pouring out of the cresent shaped cuts that his nails had made.
"Did you hear that?" Molly spat, shaking in her rage. "How could he say such a thing? To Dumbledore! And in front of the entire Order!" she slammed a pot of peeled potatoe's onto the counter, slopping water onto it's surface.
Sirius sighed, slumping in his seat at the table. Never before had he seen his godson so inraged...
"Well... Harry does deserve answers." Arthur said, looking uncomfortable as his wife turned to glare at him, "Well, think about it! He's already faced and defeated You-Know-Who on more than one occasion! He saw him rise and kill a fellow student! You-Know-Who killed his parents! Can you really blame the boy?"
Molly sighed, slumping against the counter, "All in all, Arthur... but you saw the way he acted tonight."
"Yes, it was very disrespectful." Remus sighed, running a hand over his lined face, "But we should have expected this, really..."
"We should really tell them what's happening." Tonks said, looking over at the stairs of the kitchen.
"No!" Molly snapped, "Their children! They shouldn't be worring about things like war!"
"Molly..." Sirius said, gazing at the mother tiredly, "You know as well as me that they'll be involved in this war a lot more than any of us in this room."
Harry sighed, rolling in the Extendable Ear.
He tucked it into his pocket and went back to his and Ron's room, where he flopped down onto his bed.
"That was a long trip to the loo." Ron commented, raising his eyebrows at his friend. Hermione looked up from her book.
"I wasn't in the loo." Harry admitted, "We're more involved with this war than I thought." He pulled out the Extendable Ear and showed Ron and Hermione.
Hermione sighed and flipped her book shut, leaning against Ron's bed. "I'm sick of this..."
"We all are." Harry said, unconciously gently rubbing the throbbing cresent cuts on his palms.
"I wish we could just... leave." Ron said, after a moment. "Like, leave the Wizarding World."
Hermione and Harry looked up to stare at him, causing the boy to flush. "I know, it's stupid-"
"No." Hermione said. She shot to her feet, the book falling to the floor with a thud. "It's not... why don't we leave?"
"What?" Harry asked, staring at his friend in shock.
"Leave the Wizarding World. Obviously, the Order doesn't want us to have anything to do with the war... so why should we?"
Harry looked from his two friends, mouth agap. He swallowed. "Ya... why not?"
Practice shot for the Quidditch League FanFiction Competition
This will not be continued, but if anyone else want's to continue it on their own, you have my full promission.
