Disclaimer- perhaps it's time for another one of these. I don't own Harry Potter. If I did, I would be JK Rowling, and I'm not. Furthermore, I don't think JK spends her free time writing fan fiction, which probably wouldn't be fan fiction anyway since she wrote the works it would be based upon.

Chapter 11

Veritas et Aequitas

It wasn't until Sunday that Harry finally came out of his room. He had been trying to cope with Friday night's events, and, thus, had stayed in for an entire day. It was fortunate that most of the school didn't know he had even been in Hogwarts. And the ones that had seen him in the Great Hall had no idea he had stayed. It certainly was nice to have some privacy.

Though, Ginny and Neville knew where Harry was. He had found them and shown them his new room after McGonagall had left that night. Therefore, they did miss his absence and subsequently tried to talk to him. Not knowing the password, the statue of Circe that guarded his room wouldn't let them inside. Harry then had to ignore the constant calls on the two-way mirror and the fireplace, and even the owls they had sent from the other side of the castle.

The room itself was not much different from his back at Grimmauld Place. The passageway from the statue led into a large study area that connected to his bedroom and private bathroom. He had made immediate use of the study room, spreading out books he had been using over all the tables and set the Pensieve in one corner. He was glad that no one else would be able to enter and he wouldn't have to hide everything.

Eventually, though, he needed to get out of the room and outside the castle. Still wanting some peace, he decided to sit under a tree at the edge of the lake, now going over events from earlier that morning.

When Snape's owl had come the other night, Harry immediately tossed his letter into the fire. He hadn't cared what the man had to say at that moment, and it didn't matter anyway as Harry was still planning to pay him a visit. He made that visit Sunday morning.

Harry hadn't even allowed Snape to say anything before he began shouting at the man. He was absolutely livid that his informant had failed in informing Harry of the upcoming attacks and costing more lives. Snape, on the other hand, merely waited for Harry's verbal tirade to finish before he explained, as calmly as possible.

"Would you sit down and shut up, Potter? And use your head for once?" Snape hissed. "First of all, you should know that I was only aware of the attack on Hogsmeade. However, I would not have told you of the others, had I known."

Harry was about to demand why, but Snape answered his question before it could be asked. "Because, Potter, the second you knew, you would have undoubtedly gone and told everyone."

"Sorry, I guess I have this thing about letting people die needlessly," Harry said scathingly.

"I though I told you to use your head," Snape said. "The Dark Lord now knows I'm in contact with you. If all of his attacks are foiled by the Ministry or the Order, he's going to know exactly how."

"So you can allow people to die in order for you to maintain your position?" Harry shot.

"You can't save everyone, Potter. People are going to die. The sooner you get used to that, the easier it will be."

"Sorry, Snape," Harry replied coldly, "but that's one thing I'll never get used to."

"And that is why I didn't tell you," Snape said smoothly. "If I tell you of every attack, then you will attempt to foil them and surely get me killed. If I could trust you not to act on every one, then perhaps some of them could be stopped."

"What do you mean?"

"The Dark Lord knows that his plans will not work perfectly. He knows things will go wrong from time to time," Snape explained. "While he does not allow mistakes from his Death Eaters, he knows that outside forces will come into play. Using that, it's possible to prevent some of his attacks."

Harry pondered this for several minutes. Snape watched him, merely happy that Harry had calmed down and that he was no longer pinned up against the wall with a wand at his throat.

"Fine," Harry finally said. "If you can inform me of certain attacks beforehand, I'll tell McGonagall and have her choose which ones can be stopped. I'm not about to decide who I think should live and who should die."

"Very well."

Harry then asked him about something Snape had mentioned a few minutes ago. "You said Voldemort knows you're helping me? So he's going along with it?"

Snape glared at the use of Voldemort's name, but nodded. "Yes, I told him about our 'arrangement'," he said. "He demanded I find out as much as I can, and he has withdrawn me from the more dangerous missions."

"Good. What else can you tell me?" Harry asked.

"What do you want to know?"

"Well," Harry thought, "why hasn't he been more active recently? I figured with Dumbledore gone, he wouldn't hesitate, but apart from the other night he hasn't really done anything."

"He has reason to be more cautious," Snape told him.

"Like what? Dumbledore is the only one he was said to fear, and he's gone," Harry said. "What else would he be afraid of?"

"You."

Harry blinked at the other man, certain he had misheard. "Yeah, right," he scoffed. "Voldemort is afraid of me…"

"Of course he hasn't said it, but some of us can tell," Snape said, straight-faced.

Harry, though, didn't buy it. "You're kidding right?" he asked, grinning and shaking his head. "You're mad." He didn't know what Snape was playing at, but it certainly wasn't constructive. The idea of Voldemort being afraid of anyone, let alone afraid of Harry, was ridiculous.

"I assure you, Potter, I am not joking," said an increasingly agitated Snape.

Harry continued to look at him in disbelief. "All right, perhaps you could explain. Why on earth would the 'greatest dark lord in history' be afraid of me?"

"I thought that would be obvious," Snape said simply. Harry merely looked at him blankly. Sighing in annoyance, he said, "Didn't I tell you to use your head?"

Harry continued staring at Snape, expectantly now. After several moments, he said, "I'm waiting."

Growling in aggravation, he said, "Because, Potter, you're the Boy-Who-Lived." He spat the last words as if he couldn't get them out fast enough. "Everyone the Dark Lord has decided to kill is dead. Except for you."

Still frowning, Harry asked, "So this is because of what happened when he tried to fulfill the prophesy?"

"Not exactly. You have faced him more times than when you were one," Snape grudgingly explained. "You have, as the late Headmaster explained it, escaped him four times so far. Something not even your parents had done."

"So he's afraid of me because I keep running away from him?"

"Because you keep evading him and staying alive," Snape corrected him. "Not only that, but with all those close to you he has killed, it hasn't broken you."

"I will admit I have that annoying habit of not dying, but what do you mean 'broken'?" Harry asked.

"Think about it Potter," Snape answered. "Think of how many of your friends and family he has killed or ordered killed. And after all that, you haven't experienced the overwhelming sorrow and grief like he expects. You haven't given up. In fact, it has made you stronger." Snape paused to think for a second. "In will and resolve," he continued. "Your desire to defeat him has grown each time."

Snape certainly did have a point. With all of Voldemort's attacks, whether he knew the victims or not, it just made Harry work harder and harder to get to the point where he could bring Voldemort down. Harry mulled over Snape's words for several minutes.

"So," he finally said, thinking back to something Snape had just told him, "is the prophesy also part of it?"

"I would assume so," Snape said, stroking his chin. "He still hasn't heard its full contents and, thus, believes there is a secret to beating you. I would assume he believes that he's in danger of the same outcome as when he first tried to kill you."

"Hmmm… I guess that gives me an advantage. Tell me," Harry said, "how did you find out all of this?"

"Because I am not as dense as you would like to believe," Snape sneered. "You are already aware of my means for acquiring information."

"So, what, you read Voldemort's mind? I thought he was too skilled for that," Harry said.

"First of all," Snape told him with an air of forced patience, "I believe I previously explained how Legilimency is far more complex than the foolish Muggle notion of 'mind-reading'." After sneering again at Harry, he went on, "But yes, the Dark Lord is too skilled at Occlumency for me to directly search through his mind. But someone with a higher understanding of the art is able to get information by more than just a person's thoughts."

"Such as?"

Snape sighed in aggravation, but answered, "Many things. Inflection in the voice, facial expression, body language… all of these betray a person's true feelings."

"Ok," Harry went on, "but why would he not mask his emotions from you?"

"Because, Potter," Snape answered, "unlike you, the Dark Lord isn't aware of my training in such matters. He doesn't believe anyone is so keen as to detect such small signals."

"All right, I guess I can buy that," Harry said thoughtfully. "So Voldemort's afraid of me. I'll have to find a way to use that to my advantage."

"Don't get carried away, Potter," Snape told him. "Just because he's wary of what might happen doesn't mean he will hold back."

……………

Harry sighed and sat back against his tree. He supposed he shouldn't remain mad at Snape for what happened. Despite the clouds surrounding his true intentions and his past treatment of Harry, he had actually been helpful over the past few days. Something Harry would not have expected in his wildest dreams.

He sat there for the longest time thinking about where Snape's true loyalties lied and what should be his next course of action. It was several hours before someone finally found him. Harry was firing conjured stones from his wand and sending them skipping across the surface of the lake when he heard someone approaching.

"Why are you doing that?" a familiar voice asked from right beside him.

Harry smiled to himself and answered, "It's something Muggles do when they're thinking."

"Oh."

Harry heard the figure start to walk away. "Have a seat, Ron. You're not interrupting me," he said.

Harry looked up at Ron, who looked very uncomfortable and was shifting his weight from side to side nervously. He paused for some time, trying to find the words.

"Look, Harry," he finally spoke up, "I just wanted to come down and tell you something. Then I'll leave you alone."

Harry assumed it was what Ginny had told him the other night. He looked up at Ron expectantly.

"Yeah… well, uh… about what happened over the summer," Ron said, not able to look at Harry. "I just… I wanted to say I'm sorry."

Harry opened his mouth to say something, but Ron stopped him. "No, let me finish. I figure I owe you an explanation. Just… it was right around when Hermione and I started dating. She was so upset, and, well… you know how I can be sometimes."

"Now that you mention it…" Harry said dryly.

"Right," Ron swallowed. He went on, "I knew I shouldn't have blamed you, but she did and I wanted to comfort her. As usual, I blew things out of proportion and lost my head."

Harry nodded at him. He then asked, "And the part about me wanting to 'steal her from you'?"

"Yeah, that," said Ron, looking down again. "I just get so jealous and overprotective. I guess it comes from growing up poor. A few days after it happened, I realised how horrible what I said was and how big a prat I had been."

Harry sighed. "I hope you know that I would gladly trade lives with any of the students here. I'd give up all my money and fame for a chance to lead a normal life like you."

"Another thing I wish I hadn't said," Ron told him. "I mean, the fame and gold looks good on the outside, but you've got plenty of problems that I wouldn't want to have to deal with."

"Thanks Ron," Harry said sarcastically. "But I'm glad you truly feel that way. I wouldn't wish for anyone to have what I have. I mean, the price I paid for the gold in my vault was knowing my parents. And godfather."

"Right," Ron said. "That was all I wanted to tell you. Whether you forgive me or not, I just wanted you to know that I didn't mean what I said. And I don't blame you for what happened."

Ron turned to leave, but Harry stopped him again. "You don't need my forgiveness. I understand why you did what you did and that you didn't mean it. I was mostly worried about you."

Ron cocked his head to the side. "What do you mean?"

"Peter."

"Come again?" Ron asked, looking more confused.

"Pettigrew. You know, Wormtail," Harry explained. "It's like I was telling Remus, he was always jealous of my dad and Sirius. In the end, I think that's why he turned to Voldemort. I don't want that to happen to you."

Ron wore an affronted look. "Hey, mate, I may lose my head at times, but when I put things in perspective, I've got it pretty good. I'd never betray you like that coward did."

"I know," Harry said quietly. "I just worry at times. But now I know not to."

"Good," Ron said. "I don't ever want to be compared to that piece of filth."

Harry looked up at his best friend. "I wish you had told me about all this sooner. I know I needed to work on my own, but it would have been nice to be able to talk to you."

"I had wanted to mate," Ron said animatedly. "I tried owling you but never got a reply. No one even knew where you were."

Harry chuckled. "I guess I did go a little overboard with the security." He shook his head and leaned back against the tree. "Would you sit down already?"

Ron looked shocked for a moment, but finally walked over to Harry and sat next to him under the tree. The sun started to set, painting a beautiful picture across the surface of the lake.

"You do blame yourself about what happened, don't you?" Ron asked, breaking the silence.

Harry knew what he meant. "Well, it was my fault. So of course I do. And so does Hermione."

"You don't know that," Ron replied. "You need to go and talk to her."

"That's probably not a good idea yet," Harry said, shaking his head. "I ran into her in Hogsmeade the other night. She… well, she didn't seem ready to talk to me."

"Maybe I can talk to her for you," Ron suggested. "Though, she's been more distant since we broke up."

"What exactly happened there?" asked Harry, unable to contain his curiosity.

"Oh, man," Ron said shaking his head. "That girl is mad. I mean… well, you know how she can get. Our whole relationship was one big row after another."

"I'm sorry," Harry told him truthfully.

Ron clapped him on the shoulder and said, "No worries mate. We're much better as friends anyway. Makes it easier for us to argue all the time." He grinned at Harry, and the added, "but don't let that put you off. If you want her, she's all yours."

"Uh… thanks for the offer, but that's all right," Harry said.

Ron frowned at him. "Really? Don't you fancy her?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know," he answered honestly. "Ever since the wedding, I had been looking at her differently. But I don't know what it meant."

"And you haven't figured it out yet?" Ron asked. He seemed thoroughly confused.

"Haven't even tried," said Harry. "Ever since… since her parents were killed, I pushed those thoughts out of my mind. I wasn't going to let something like that happen again. Even taught myself Occlumency."

"Really?" Ron asked, surprised. "But you always had so much trouble with it. And you learned it on your own?"

Harry nodded. "This time I had a legitimate reason. Back in our fifth year, Dumbledore never told me why he wanted me to learn. If I knew it would have saved Sirius' life, I'd have worked as hard as I could."

Ron looked thoughtfully at this. After a minute or so, he spoke up, asking a question Harry wasn't prepared for. "So, all this stuff with Hermione… I thought you fancied Ginny."

"I do," Harry answered reflexively. He hadn't really thought about his relationship with Ginny a lot. He honestly didn't know how he felt. "And I don't." He sighed deeply. "I don't really know, Ron. And this isn't really the time to think about it."

"I guess you're right," Ron said. "Just, after you two started dating, I thought you would always stay together. And after last June, I thought you would eventually get back together."

"Who knows?" Harry said, shrugging his shoulders. "If we can get rid of Voldemort, there'll be plenty of time for that."

Ron started chuckling, and said, "And you'll need all the time you can get, mate. You've already got the heart of every girl in Britain… take out You-Know-Who and you'll be fighting them off from all over the world."

"Prat," Harry said, punching his friend in the arm. "You must have been talking to Tonks."

Still smiling, Ron raised his eyebrow and asked, "When did you see Tonks?"

"The other night," answered Harry. "She came with the other Aurors."

"Oh, right."

Despite his efforts, Harry's thoughts turned back to Friday night. Images flashed through his mind, superimposed on the tranquil scene of the lake and sunset. Ron must have sensed his discomfort and remained silent. They stayed that way for several minutes as Harry tried to clear his mind, not wanting to relive what happened with Dolohov for several lifetimes.

"Why is it always Halloween?" Harry finally spoke. Ron looked at him questioningly, so Harry explained, "All this stuff: my parents dying, that stupid troll, Nick's Deathday party, a murderer loose in the castle… and now this." He nodded his head toward Hogsmeade. "Worst that happens in the Muggle world is you get eggs thrown at your house."

"Really?" Ron asked, looking rather interested.

Harry laughed at this. "You really should have taken Muggle Studies, you know."

"Why bother when I've got you and Hermione around?" Ron said jokingly.

Harry continued to smile. He was immensely enjoying the conversation with Ron, and very relieved to have his best friend back. For the past few months, he had been completely alone, with no one to turn to when he needed advice or help. But now that he was back at Hogwarts, with things with Ron patched up and an immense wealth of knowledge and history at his fingertips, he actually felt the pressure lift off of him. For the first time, he felt that eliminating the Horcruxes was an achievable goal.

As if sensing Harry's thoughts, Ron asked, "You all right, Harry? You got all quiet and serious."

"I'm fine Ron. Just thinking," Harry said. "I guess with Dumbledore gone, things are so different. Things can get overwhelming at times."

Ron nodded in agreement. "I know just what you mean. Things here have been pretty crazy. Nothing with You-Know-Who and all that," Ron went on when he saw Harry's questioning look, "Just school stuff. McGonagall couldn't find anyone to teach Transfiguration, so she's doing that as well as her Headmistress duties. And Slughorn was forced to stay another year. Plus, the new Defense professor is also our new Head."

Harry hadn't heard anything about the new professor and asked Ron about it. "You'll meet him tomorrow, assuming you're going to classes," Ron told him. "He's not too bad. He knows his stuff all right, and he's taught quite a bit before coming here. He's definitely the best Defense professor we've had."

"That's good," said Harry. Talking about how different things were without Dumbledore had actually given Harry an idea. He really could use the old man's wisdom at the moment, and he decided to give the portrait another try. "Listen Ron, I just thought of something I need to do. But thanks for coming and talking to me."

They both stood up and brushed themselves off, and Ron said, "Don't mention it. Just so long as you're not still mad with me."

"Of course not," Harry told him. "I'm just glad you're not mad at me." Ron wasn't one to openly discuss his feelings, and for that matter, neither was Harry. So they just left it at that.

"So I'll see you in the common room later?" Ron asked him.

"Er… Well, I'm not staying in our dorm right now," Harry told him. Ron looked quite confused, and Harry went on, "See, with all the stuff I'm working on, I've got a bunch of things lying around that most people shouldn't see. So McGonagall put me in that private chamber on the sixth floor."

Ron looked rather disappointed in hearing this. Harry could understand that perfectly. He had just got his best friend back and now had to tell him why he would only see him in classes and meals.

"It's probably only temporary though," Harry explained. "I don't think I'd really be comfortable around everyone yet. Maybe in a few weeks when things have settled down, I can move back and just use this room for my other work."

They started walking back up to the castle, and Ron seemed to cheer up a bit. Their conversation was about trivial things: the Quidditch team, schoolwork, who was dating who, and various other happenings. When they got to the Entrance Hall, Harry told him, "Come down to my room later and I'll catch you up on everything I've been doing."

"Sure thing Harry," Ron said and headed off in the direction of Gryffindor Tower. He waved back before disappearing around a corner, and Harry smiled to himself, feeling an enormous pressure lifted off his shoulders. Things were close to being back to normal. Or, at least, as normal as they could get when you were Harry Potter.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

A few minutes later, Harry found himself standing in front of the large door to the Headmistresses office. He held the metal griffin and knocked sharply several times. The next second, the door swung open silently and Harry stepped in.

McGonagall was sitting at her desk, wearing her usual robes of red, and looking over several small stacks of parchment. She looked up when Harry entered and said, "Good evening, Mr. Potter." Taking off her glasses and setting them on the desk, she sat back and asked, "What can I do for you tonight?"

"Good evening Professor. Sorry to bother you, but I was hoping I could talk to someone," Harry said, gesturing to the portraits above her head. "If you don't mind, of course."

"Not at all," she said dismissively. "In fact, I was just about to head down for dinner." McGonagall stood up and came around from behind her desk. "Take as much time as you need."

Harry thanked her politely and watched as she left the office and headed down the spiral staircase. Once she was gone, Harry sat down in one of the chairs facing the desk and looked up at Dumbledore's frame. It was empty. Harry sighed in frustration and considered leaving. But he didn't want to come back and bother McGonagall again, so he tried to get his old Headmaster to come back.

"Dumbledore!" he called out. Harry waited for a moment, but nothing happened. Harry tried again, this time louder than before. A split-second later, he watched as the figure of Albus Dumbledore slid into his frame. He looked confused at first, but as soon as he saw Harry, his face softened and he smiled.

"Ah, Harry! I was hoping you would come and visit me some time," Dumbledore said casually, as if he were sitting in the chair across from Harry and not in a painting hanging on the wall.

"Hello Professor," Harry said. He then paused for a moment, not really knowing how to start a conversation with a portrait. "How are you doing?" seemed like as good a place as any.

"An interesting question actually," Dumbledore said pensively. "I don't think I can say how the true Albus Dumbledore is doing, though I expect he is enjoying himself, wherever he is. I can tell you that this form of him is doing well."

Harry smiled at his words, but then fell silent. He had wanted nothing more than to have a conversation with Dumbledore ever since he had died. But to be honest, now that he had the opportunity, he had no idea what to say.

"Harry?" the portrait asked after several moments of his silence.

Harry looked up, shaken from his thoughts. "Sorry, sir. This is kind of weird for me. I guess I'm not really sure how to talk to you."

Dumbledore nodded in understanding. "If it helps you for now, think of me as the real Albus Dumbledore. What would you say to him?"

Harry chuckled at the question. "So, so many things. I think the problem is what you said. I keep thinking of you as the Dumbledore I knew and I have to force myself to remember that you're not. Do you know everything the real Dumbledore knew?"

"For the most part," the portrait said. "My purpose in this form is to impart my wisdom on the current Headmaster or Headmistress. So it would make sense that I retain all the knowledge and experiences from the life of Albus Dumbledore."

Harry was happy to hear this. "What was the last thing you remember?"

"Hmmm," the portrait thought. "I remember being outside… seeing the Dark Mark… I was feeling very weak. And then I closed my eyes, and I was here."

"That was right before you died," Harry told him.

"Ah yes, you were there with me. Tell me, who was the one that killed me?" Dumbledore asked.

"Snape."

"Of course, the Vow," Dumbledore said. "Good. Listen Harry, I can't speak for the real Dumbledore, but I want to apologise for some of my actions."

"Don't worry about it," Harry told him, not eager to relive some of the things he had already come to terms with.

However, Dumbledore went on as if he didn't hear Harry. "I wish I had been more forward with you with some things. I expect my death was something of a shock to you. I just hope you didn't do anything rash in regards to Severus."

"No, I've made my peace with that," said Harry.

"Good. I also wish I had spent more time helping the world learn to live without me," Dumbledore went on gravely. "I've been watching Minerva, and things aren't going well. I hadn't realised people were so dependent on me. I hope I didn't hurt you too much in that regard."

Harry sighed and thought back to the beginning of his summer. "It did at first, but I got by."

"I apologise," Dumbledore told him sadly. "I certainly didn't wish for things to turn out this way, but I knew when my end was near and I should have prepared you for it. The last year when we worked together to discover the Horcruxes was among the best of my very long life. Working with you and watching you grow gave me confidence that you truly would defeat Voldemort." Harry merely nodded at this. "As the years went on, I regarded you less as a student and more as a son. And a friend. I have no doubts that you will vanquish Voldemort."

"Thank you sir," Harry said softly. Even though it was a portrait talking to him, he was truly touched at the words the real Dumbledore surely would have said. Of course, that also made him think of something else the real Dumbledore had said. And something he had been thinking about earlier.

"Professor, why did you trust Snape?" he asked.

Dumbledore looked surprised by the question. "I'm afraid I can't answer that. That was something between Severus and me. Or rather, between Severus and Albus Dumbledore. If he should confide in you, so be it. But for now, I must keep his secrets."

Harry sighed at the answer he got. He wondered how a painting could have such high morals. Perhaps he would have to wait for another day to know. As if he could ever get Snape to open up to him.

Harry loosened up a bit and started talking more easily with his old Headmaster. They started out discussing the current state of the country and Voldemort's increasing influence and spread of terror. Then they moved on to discussing the Horcruxes in depth. Dumbledore listened as Harry described what he had discovered so far, and his ideas on what he was currently looking for. Dumbledore praised him for the progress he had made and agreed with his next plans. Harry was thankful that he seemed to be taking the right course of action.

"How did you do it sir?" Harry asked thoughtfully after a long pause. He took a sip of his tea and set it back on the desk before looking up at the portrait. When the sun had set completely and the lamps in the office lit, McGonagall had sent up a tray of tea and biscuits, knowing Harry had yet to eat dinner.

"Do what, Harry?" Dumbledore asked back.

"Defeat Grindelwald," answered Harry. "I've read some books of history from that time but all they ever say is that you were the one that ended him. From the sound of it, you had a much easier time of it than I'm having now."

Dumbledore seemed to consider his words for several moments. "Well it certainly wasn't easy," he started. "Though, forgive me for saying this, but I daresay getting rid of Voldemort will prove much more difficult. But you must remember that they are two very different wizards."

"How so sir?"

"Their motives, for one," said Dumbledore. "Grindelwald wanted to rule the world. He believed in force through numbers, and that was his main weapon. He saw his individual minions as expendable as long as they could overwhelm his enemy. It took many witches and wizards, and resources, to battle him."

Harry pondered over this for a minute. "And what about Voldemort?"

"Voldemort merely wants to rule the magical world and purge all those he sees unfit to be a part of it. Voldemort is what Muggles would call a terrorist. What he lacks in numbers, he makes up for in threats," explained Dumbledore. "His weapon is fear. With his frequent attacks, he has convinced the population that anyone could be his next victim and it could come at any time. No one feels safe and he has forced hundreds into hiding."

"So how many Death Eaters do you think he has?" Harry asked.

"Hard to say," thought Dumbledore. "I would guess around four or five dozen at the very most." At the look of disbelief on Harry's face, he went on, "You see, despite what you may have seen through his eyes, Voldemort values the life of each one of his servants. He knows everything about them, knows what they are capable of. He does not recruit inept wizards purely for the purpose of manpower. Nor does he send his Death Eaters out without knowing everything about their mission, or unless he is absolutely sure that they are more than able to handle whatever may happen."

"And everything he's done, it's all been possible because everyone fears him?"

"Is it so hard to believe? The majority of us won't even speak his name. Think about it Harry," Dumbledore said. "Voldemort is only one man. He isn't strong enough alone to conquer all of wizardkind. He uses fear on everyone. Even his Death Eaters."

Dumbledore paused for a moment and sat back in his chair. He seemed to be thinking of how he wanted to word something.

"Think for a moment," he finally said, "what would happen if all of Voldemort's servants deserted him at once, or turned against him. He couldn't possibly defeat them all, could he?"

"But they couldn't beat him either," Harry countered.

"Ah, yes… a good thought. You and I both know that Voldemort cannot yet be truly killed. But," he went on, "You and I also know that his body can be destroyed. He could of course return again, but until that time, we would be rid of him. And remember that the Death Eaters don't know of his Horcruxes. So what is stopping them from turning on him?"

"Uhhh… because they're afraid of him?" Harry answered simply.

"Correct, Harry, but not quite enough. Now imagine what would happen if just one Death Eater turned on him."

"He would be killed," said Harry.

"With even more fear being instilled in the remaining servants," Dumbledore nodded. "And what if one Death Eater told another to help him turn on Voldemort? It is possible that he may go along, but then there would still only be two, which is well within Voldemort's abilities. Of course, it is much more likely that the second would still be too afraid and quickly inform his master of the deserter's intentions, lest someone find out."

"I think I understand now," Harry said. "They could all defeat Voldemort if they combined their powers, but no one has enough guts to suggest it."

"Precisely," Dumbledore told him. "And therein lies Voldemort's strength. This fight isn't a war in the traditional sense, with two armies battling, chipping away at each other until one side surrenders or is destroyed. Voldemort is too smart for that. He doesn't tolerate loss of life on his end. He uses outside people to get whatever he needs, places spies anywhere that has information he wants, and never lets the populace get too calm and relaxed."

"Because if they relax and start thinking rationally," Harry interrupted, "They will understand that they can stand up to Voldemort and fight back." He finally understood why the wizarding world did hardly anything to fight back.

"Exactly," Dumbledore told him, looking very pleased. "With Grindelwald, it was easier. One army against another, fighting until one gives in. With Voldemort though, you don't know who is your friend and who is your enemy. Anyone could be a spy and it is very difficult to place your trust in anyone. Though the Ministry tries to fight back, it is ineffective. They don't have the manpower to keep up with every move Voldemort makes, and the population in turn loses their trust in them and becomes more apathetic."

Harry thought about his words. It certainly didn't make the idea of defeating Voldemort seem any easier. Once he managed to find and destroy all of the Horcruxes, he would still have to find a way to get the world to stand up for itself. He then thought about Dumbledore fighting Grindelwald and some of the things his old Headmaster must have done.

Dumbledore looked down and noticed Harry getting lost in his own thoughts. "Harry? Is something wrong?"

Harry looked up at him. Now matter how much he tried to avoid it, he couldn't stop his thoughts from returning to Halloween night. Perhaps he could talk to Dumbledore about it. It wasn't the real Dumbledore so he couldn't really worry about being judged or punished. And with his wealth of knowledge, the old man could probably relate.

Harry took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He then asked, barely above a whisper, "Sir, have you ever used an Unforgivable?"

Dumbledore's face was expressionless for a moment, but looked down at Harry consolingly. "Still thinking about Bellatrix, are you?"

Harry was confused at first, until it registered what Dumbledore was asking. "What? I… oh, that," he stuttered, remembering what had happened with Bellatrix in the Ministry a year and a half ago. But then… "Wait, how did you hear about that?"

"Severus," answered Dumbledore.

Harry gaped at him, trying to work that one out. Perhaps Bellatrix informed Voldemort after it happened, who told the rest of his followers as ammunition for their taunts. Or a way to blackmail him. "Git," he muttered under his breath.

"Do you mean there was another instance?" Dumbledore asked tentatively. Harry looked up at him, but quickly aimed his gaze back down at the floor. "You can tell me Harry."

Harry nodded. Still looking at the ground, he said, "It was the other night. During the attack. Dolohov was about to kill Hermione. And I… I… I didn't have any other option." He quickly looked up at Dumbledore, begging for some kind of comfort. Getting things out in the open certainly wasn't making things easier. He had done his best to avoid any thought on the matter, and now… he felt cold. He felt a dirtiness that wouldn't wash away. He felt disgusted with himself and terrified at what might happen if anyone found out. He was sick to his stomach with shame and guilt as he tried to justify himself for taking the life of another.

But is their justification? he thought. Did I do all that I could? Wasn't there some other way of resolving the situation? The feeling of sickness spread from his stomach to his entire body. All he could see in his mind was the grinning face of Antonin Dolohov. The man he had killed. Sure, Dolohov had killed countless witches and wizards, but that didn't necessarily make right what Harry did. Did it? Dolohov was a danger to everyone, including my friends. But is that enough for him to need to die?

"Harry?" Dumbledore asked softly.

"I killed him," Harry whispered. Those three simple words were the hardest he had ever had to say in his life. He couldn't bear to look up and see Dumbledore's reaction. He held his gaze with the floor and ignored the stinging in the corners of his eyes.

Dumbledore didn't sigh or leave in disgust. He didn't yell or tell Harry what a horrible person he was. He merely said, "Please… tell me what happened. If you can."

A silence hung heavily in the room. If any of the other portraits were awake or listening in, they knew that it was definitely not the right time to chime in. Harry remained still for several minutes as he attempted to explain. He opened his mouth a dozen times, but no words came out.

Eventually, Harry found his speech and told Dumbledore everything. How he had dueled with Dolohov, how Hermione appeared, how Dolohov used his shield charm, everything. When he was done, he cradled his head in his hands and waited for Dumbledore to say something.

"Harry," he said, "do you think what you did was wrong?"

Finally, Harry raised his head and looked up at the portrait. Surprisingly, to him, Dumbledore's face was expressionless. Harry expected it to be filled with disgust and reprimand. Especially after the completely obvious question he had just asked. "Of course it was wrong," he nearly shouted. "Another man has died by my hand."

"Harry, listen to me," Dumbledore said calmly. "From what you told me, about your physical state, your need to make a quick decision, your need to protect the life of your friend, the shield he used… I am familiar with it and you were correct in believing there is only one spell able to penetrate it. Taking all these things into account, I believe you only had one option."

Harry's expression softened a little, and Dumbledore continued. "I know this must be difficult for you, to deal with and to talk about. But you shouldn't be too hard on yourself." He raised his hand as soon as Harry opened his mouth to disagree. "Many people before you have done the same thing for the same reasons. It doesn't make you a bad person, or a murderer. It actually speaks for your character, to do such an extreme act, make such a self-sacrifice, in order to save a friend. I think that Miss Granger would agree. However controversial you see your decision, you saved her life."

"But," Harry spoke up, "but what if I discover something different I could have done?"

"It's possible. In fact, I highly doubt that you won't," Dumbledore told him. At the look on Harry's face, he continued, "There is a Muggle saying that hindsight is twenty-twenty. Having been to a Muggle eye doctor, I'm sure you can understand the logic behind it. With enough time to look back on them, we can see all of our decisions quite clearly. You may realixe something you could have done differently or some way you could have ended the duel more quickly. Years from now, you may come across a new spell that would have stopped Dolohov without killing him. But you must remember that at the time it happened, in your state of mind, you only had one option before you."

Harry nodded in understanding. "Have you ever done it sir?" he asked, looking up again.

"That, I cannot tell you," Dumbledore said solemnly. "Perhaps that bit of information was left out of this incarnation of Albus Dumbledore. But as for you, you cannot let this consume you. I've known wizards who could never come to grips with taking another's life and wasted away from the guilt or drank themselves to death." He paused momentarily, and then asked, "Harry, do you know what makes the Unforgivable Curses unforgivable?"

Harry shook his head, saying, "We never learned that much about them. Just what they're used for."

Dumbledore explained, "It isn't because of what they can do. It is because of the emotion needed to fuel them. To want utter control of a person's body and mind, to want to make someone feel excruciating pain until the beg you to stop, to hate someone so much that you want them to die… These are why they are so horrible." He stopped for a moment to let this information sink in. "I'm wondering, what were you feeling the two times you used them?"

Harry felt this might make it easier to discuss, and answered, "Well, with Bellatrix, it was right after she… killed Sirius. I wanted her to feel the same pain she had caused me. But it didn't work. She said righteous anger wouldn't hurt her for long."

"Of course," nodded Dumbledore. "You wanted her to feel the sorrow and grief you felt, you didn't want to physically hurt her. Please, go on."

"Well," Harry continued, "With Dolohov, I felt a lot of hate, but I don't know if it was all for him. I hated the situation, and hated the fact that I only had one option to save my friend."

Dumbledore nodded again. "This is very interesting. By definition, your use of the spell shouldn't have worked at all. I'll have to think about this. But for now, I believe the Headmistress requires her office again, so we'll have to end our discussion."

"Right," Harry said, checking his watch. He needed to get back soon if he wanted to have time to talk to Ron. "Thank you for helping me sort some things out."

"Of course Harry. Come back any time you want," Dumbledore told him as he stood up. "And don't forget what I told you."

"I won't," Harry said as he started walking out, and then muttered as an afterthought, "though I'm not expecting to get much sleep for a while."

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

It was much later during that sleepless night that Harry found himself striding quickly down an unfamiliar street in a small town just outside London. He had cast a silencing charm on his shoes to make sure his footsteps couldn't be heard on the rough stone, allowing him to quickly sneak up on anyone. Despite the fact that he had his Invisibility Cloak wrapped tightly around him, he was constantly looking in all directions to make sure no one was around. As he came to the next intersection, he looked up at the street sign to make sure he was close.

Before leaving Snape's house earlier that day, he was informed of a minor mission that Harry might have an interest in stopping and gave Harry all the details. The two Death Eaters he was tracking were on their way to the house of a Muggle-born student, most likely intent on killing the parents. Harry didn't know the motives, but the Death Eaters were both fairly important, so something was obviously done to anger Voldemort.

Harry didn't really care what they were up to, because he didn't need extra incentive to go after these targets. When he spotted the house in question, he slowed down and crept closer, forgetting that he couldn't be seen or heard. Both of the Death Eaters were standing on the front porch, ready to enter. Harry dropped down behind the hedges lining the walkway and snuck closer to the house. He figured the best way to handle this was to wait for the Death Eaters to sneak inside and then ambush them before they could hurt anyone. He didn't know if things would go smoothly and didn't want to make a lot of noise out in the open where he could be seen.

Harry reached the house and tried to make sense of the whispers he heard from both men. He couldn't understand what was being said, but did hear when one of them used an Unlocking charm on the door. Harry was instantly on his feet and deftly leaped over the hedge as soon as both men entered the house.

Using he agility from years of Quidditch training, he dashed up the steps and skidded silently through the door before one of the Death Eaters closed it behind them. "What was that?" the Death Eater at the door whispered, to which the other replied, "That was you being too slow. Come on, let's finish this."

The first Death Eater started to climb the stairs and the one at the door made to follow, but Harry drew his wand and silently placed a Stunner in his back. The man fell to the ground with a thump. The first man said, "Quit fooling around, you'll wake them," while turning around.

As soon as he saw the body on the ground, he drew his wand, checked the angle from which his partner was attacked, and yelled, "Stupefy!"

Fortunately, Harry had already moved and the beam of red light hit the wall several feet behind them. Before the first Death Eater could fire again, Harry Stunned him as well, causing him to keel over and crash down several stairs.

Harry heard noises upstairs and a light flickered on. He pulled off his Invisibility Cloak, but kept on his other hooded cloak so that he couldn't be identified. Not long after, a husband and wife cautiously came down the stairs, the former brandishing a cricket bat and the latter holding a telephone. When they saw the two bodies on the floor, the wife started to dial for the police.

"Don't," Harry whispered forcefully. He hadn't been seen by the couple until then, and the husband raised the bat and took a step forward. Harry raised his wand and told them, "I'm not going to hurt you."

"Who are you?" the husband asked, gripping his weapon tighter.

"I'm a friend of your son's," Harry told them, and the wife gasped. "These men were sent here to kidnap or kill you. Don't worry about the police, magic has been done here and there is no witch or wizard of age in this area so the Ministry will be here soon."

Harry walked over to the two Death Eaters lying next to one another and decided to use the Barrier Charm he had learned recently. With his wand, he traced a circle on the ground around them while the couple looked on in fascination. Then, he raised his wand toward the ceiling while muttering, "Obsaeptum," bringing a glowing white hemisphere of magical energy up to surround them.

"Don't worry," Harry told them, "Even if they wake up, they won't be able to get out of there. And the Ministry can remove the barrier when they get here."

"Why did they come here?" the husband asked, finally lowering his bat.

"They were sent by Lord Voldemort, for reasons I don't know. Voldemort hates Muggles as well as Muggle-born witches and wizards. That could be his only cause for targeting you," said Harry. "Whatever the case, you're not safe here anymore. The Ministry will be able to protect you though. And they should show up any second now, so I must go." Harry started toward the door, but the husband called him back.

"I… thank you," he said, offering his hand to Harry.

Harry shook it and nodded at both of them before he left the house and Disapparated. The couple ran outside after him but he was already gone.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

A/N- ok, so I'm really sorry this took so long. I don't really have a good excuse, I just kind of got away from fan fiction for a while. But a few weeks ago I started reading some again, which in turn made me want to write. I'm pretty mad at myself because when I started this, I promised myself I wasn't gonna be one of those authors that writes half of a story and abandons it, or goes half a year between updates (btw this one was just under 5 months :o) ) But I fully intend on finishing this. I started it because I had some ideas and wanted to see if I could make a good story out of them. I'm not going to be presumptuous or egotistical and think that people were waiting for me to update, but if that was the case, I apologize and thank you for being patient with me. On a side note, I really, really, hate the title of my story and I would be open to suggestions if you have one. I actually hate several things about the story, but most of them fit in fine and can't really be changed.