Sorry for not updating in a long while!
I've started working and time became a huge issue...
Thank you for continuing to follow my story, and hope that y'all enjoy reading this update too :)
Chapter Twenty-Five: Confronting Fears
"Are you ready for this, Harry?" Severus looked at the young Elf in worry, "It is not going to be pretty; do you think you are fine with this?"
Harry was hesitant but determined. He extended his hand out for the potion vial in Severus' hand, "I am as prepared as I can be, Severus. Might as well get it over and done with…"
Severus frowned, moving the Skele-gro out of Harry's reach. His face made it clear that he was very unwilling to let Harry go through this – regrowing so many of his bones at once was bound to be extremely painful (not to mention they had to vanish those bones first), yet regrowing it in batches had a larger risk of them knitting back wrongly. "Maybe we need more preparation, Harry. You have no idea how difficult it might be…"
"Severus," Narcissa's cool voice interrupted him, "Harry is stronger than you think he is, he will endure through this."
"Narcissa, I do not think that Harry is incapable of handling this, it is just that…" Severus' brows were still tightly knit.
Narcissa gave him an understanding look, "You are just worried that this might bring your Chosen more pain than you would like. But Severus, as much as you would like to coddle and protect him, you will have to accept that there are times that you cannot shield him from everything; and there are times when pain or suffering is necessary."
It was the first time Harry had seen Severus look so… helpless. He had seen Severus showing insecurity a few times before, but it was the first time the spy had ever shown such abandoned emotions openly on his face. Harry couldn't help but to get out of the bed to pull Severus down into a tight embrace, "Arw'tyll, I am prepared to go through this because I know that you'll be supporting me whenever I need it. It will be painful, but your concern will give me comfort, Severus."
Severus buried his face in the crook of Harry's neck, breathing in Harry's unique scent and attempting to calm his nerves. "I- I feel bad that I am bringing this pain to you yet I cannot do anything to take the pain away… Harry, I-"
Harry held Severus' face up and stared at him, "What do you mean you're bringing this pain to me? You didn't do anything to cause me to have to regrow my bones!"
Narcissa coughed gently, "Severus brewed the Skele-gro, Harry, no matter what his rational mind might be telling him, his Daemon nature will assume that the pain is brought about by him."
Harry stared at Severus, no wonder the Shadow Daemon was feeling so doubtful and agitated ever since they decided on the day he was going to take the Skele-gro! He leaned forward to give Severus a gentle peck on his cheeks, "Severus… this is not your fault, I don't even know how to make you feel better…"
This felt the same as when Severus told him of his involvement in Voldemort's murder of the Potters – he understood that technically it wasn't Severus' fault, even if he had not told Voldemort of the prophecy, the Dark Lord would have found out elsewhere given his obsession over power and eternity; and the one who sold the Potters out was Pettigrew anyway. But no matter how hard he tried to reassure Severus, he continued to blame himself for Harry's loss.
Harry trailed his fingers along the side of Severus' face, "Please, Severus, you're not the only one who made this decision. Do you think I would just blindly do whatever you, Draco or Lucius asked of me? You told me yourself that I was too stubbornly wilful than a normal Chosen would be. You made the suggestion of Skele-gro, but I made the decision to take it. Don't beat yourself up over this, arw'tyll, I love you, and seeing you like this makes me feel so sad…"
Narcissa politely averted her gaze, turning around to pretend to look at the books on the shelves as Severus grabbed Harry tightly to ravish him with a passionate kiss. She tuned out other inappropriate sounds as her lips curled into a smile – she should start gathering some information about bonding rituals for Harry, she supposed, those three Slytherins don't seem inclined to draw out the Chase, neither did Harry appear resistant against their advances. But of course she'll make sure they stay within appropriate boundaries before Harry completes his schooling – it might be a good time to ask Harry for access to Grimmauld Place's Library these few days.
Severus brushed his fingers delicately across Harry's flushed cheeks, looking down at Harry with such a tender look that made Narcissa felt as though she was intruding on an extremely private moment as she sneaked a quick peek; but Harry had requested for her to be in the room even when his suitors took care of him – apparently he knew very well that once his suitors were consumed with their creature nature due to their protectiveness, she would be the only rational mind here.
"At least… we will wait until Lucius and Draco arrive," Severus murmured, unable to resist himself from giving Harry another kiss that made the Elf dazed and incoherent.
Lucius and Draco would be there to embrace Harry in their wings, their Veela magic entwined in those feathers would soothe their Chosen while their crooning and trilling will, hopefully, lure Harry into a peaceful slumber instead of enduring through the pain. Severus felt awful – he had given Harry more of those shadow crystals that he presented as his first Courting gift. Since his magic was unable to provide Harry as much comfort as the Veela can, he will have to sit aside to guard and watch as his Chosen went through this entirely horrible process.
As Severus withdrew his hand from Harry's shoulders, he felt a soft touch lingering on the back of his hand, tentative but insistent. He looked at Harry, immediately understanding the steady gaze – that he had to try to relieve his self-imposed burden. Sighing softly, he caressed Harry's face and neck, his eyes mapping the contours of Harry's features as he took in the love and concern in those emerald orbs greedily.
Harry covered the pale fingers with his own hand, and shut his eyes in a peaceful bliss of being surrounded by his suitor's aura. Narcissa kept her back towards them, respecting their private little moment. There were times that she envied the bond growing between Harry and his three suitors – especially those when they could share their thoughts without even the need for words; the peacefulness that almost seemed ironic to the fever of the Chase.
The strong burst of burning affection glowing from the presence of the two Veela alerted Harry to the arrival of the Malfoys before they opened the door. Lucius strode –almost glided– towards Harry and laid his hand on the back of Harry's neck, his voice a near-croon, "We would have returned earlier but your friends were very worried, love."
Harry smiled at them, "So you've managed to escape the inquisition?"
"Longbottom took care of them; we have to take care of you," Draco was already in full Veela mode, his feathers quivering in the light and his voice rose to a thrill.
Lucius stared down at Harry adoringly, cooing softly, "Will you let us take care of you, Harry?"
They had explained everything to him before this, although Harry was still a little apprehensive about them using the allure on him – he still haven't gotten over the fear of exposing his vulnerability and being at complete mercy of another – they had assured him that being a Chosen meant that he wouldn't be affected by the allure as others would. The allure was meant to soothe and calm their Chosen, to manipulate other beings so as to better defend their Chosen. While others will fall into a hopelessly lovesick mood, desperate to please the Veela; the Chosen would only feel a lulling sense of warmth and affection.
Even though the allure was a natural instinct when their Chosen is in pain or suffering, they didn't want to wrap Harry up in layers of allure only to have him turn furious and disappointed in their selfish –albeit well-meaning and instinctual– actions. Harry had agreed to this earlier, but Lucius just wanted to be sure.
Harry nodded.
Lucius' wings burst forth from his back and a pleased croon rumbled from the back of his throat. It was more than satisfying that Harry decided to seek comfort from their wings, especially when their Chosen was a little too independent for their instincts to run wild, even after the declaration (but well the merit of the declaration was that it allowed everyone to know that Harry was theirs).
They hovered around the bed as Harry settled himself atop blankets that he took from the three Slytherins' wardrobes. Harry took one look at Severus and turned towards Narcissa, apparently deciding that the Shadow Daemon shouldn't be the one responsible for vanishing his bones – Severus had enough guilt from brewing the Skele-gro already.
Narcissa nodded solemnly but warned them nonetheless, "Boys," – a darting gaze at Lucius and Severus told them loud and clear that they were included – "Do try to be reasonable with this, and do not gut my heart out for vanishing Harry's bones, or any other spells that I need to cast on him. The poor darling will suffer enough without trying to stop me from killing you in self-defence."
Harry groaned at the awkward feeling of bones vanishing and the flimsiness of certain body parts lacking some of their bones. Okay, this is way weirder than his Second Year, not to mention the numb ache coming from limbs that are lacking skeletal support for the muscles.
Severus carefully fed the Skele-gro to Harry, watching intently for any signs of excessive discomfort.
Harry gave them a comforting smile, "I don't think it's that bad… oh." A grimace flashed across his features as the Skele-gro finally started to function. Harry tried hard not to squirm as the nibbling pain spread slowly across his body, a deep ache throbbing in what seemed like every part of his body, slowing increasing as it piled upon each other. He corrected himself silently, this was not that bad, it was real bad.
Narcissa conjured slim bands to secure Harry's limbs to the bed, making sure that he did not jostle around the parts where the bones were growing. Lucius, turning feral at the moment Harry showed signs of discomfort, glared at her and screeched.
"Calm down, Lucius, I am making sure that Harry does not need to go through this again," Narcissa gave him a blank stare in return, not backing down an inch.
Just as Lucius tried to decide between suffocating her or mutilating her, Harry called his name. In a split second, Lucius pounced onto the bed, careful to avoid knocking into Harry, but making sure that his body and wings shielded Harry from every angle. He crouched low and caressed Harry with his claws –deadly only to others but his Chosen and his kin– crooning gently to his Chosen.
Harry just smiled at him, and at Draco who was climbing onto the bed as well, sighing contentedly at the melodious voice coming from both of them. He managed to keep quiet at first, but as the pain slowly built up he couldn't help a whimper from escaping his lips. He thought the initial aches were worse enough, why didn't anyone tell him that growing several bones together felt less like ant-bites, and more like burning from the inside?
Lucius' warbled a concerned thrill, his pupils already a golden slit. Harry stared at him for a moment, then Draco, and finally nodded, "… use the allure."
The two Veela exchanged a look and released their allure in controlled bursts, allowing Harry to bathe in mild waves of allure, taking care not to overwhelm him with the calming aura. Harry almost forgot the pain when the allure washed over him, but Lucius and Draco continued to watch him carefully, yet didn't dare to touch him because this bones-regrowing business was a delicate process.
They knew that it would be difficult, their instincts screaming to them to hold Harry in their arms and cocoon him in their thick wings, their sensibility –whatever left of it under the circumstances anyway– telling them that they should not touch Harry and jerk any part of him that has yet to recover. Their constant crooning was a compensation for being unable to cradle Harry securely in their claws, and Harry certainly didn't seem to object to their fussing over him.
Severus released a breath he hadn't been aware he's been holding since Harry's first groan of pain. It was a relief that Harry had Veela suitors to ease this process, he wouldn't want to think what Harry would have felt like if he had to go through this without help. Severus' own wings burst through the back of his robes as he crouched low in the shadows beside the bed, his eyesight and hearing sharpened as he stayed on guard for any possible intruders. Even with the knowledge that Narcissa was a friendly party and wanted nothing else but to help Harry, he kept her in the corner of his view, unwilling to chance anything when his Chosen was in such a vulnerable state.
Narcissa started moving towards the chair set at the side of the bed but was stopped dead in her tracks when twin growls came from the bed, and shadows dancing wildly in front of her daring her to take another step forward. She looked at the three men completely overtaken by their nature and sighed inaudibly. Admitting defeat, she raised both her hands to show them she meant no harm, and cautiously took a few steps backwards to the couch placed near the door.
This is going to be a long night.
"Professor Dumbledore," Harry knocked on the door to the Headmaster's office, tensing until he heard the old wizard's voice through the door, allowing him to enter the room.
It took him a tremendous amount of effort to persuade the three Slytherins to let him talk to Professor Dumbledore alone – Lucius had immediately reverted to his Veela form when he heard this, and nearly smothered Harry with his wings and crooning; while Draco hadn't transformed, his fierce screech at the mention of the word Dumbledore was enough to let Harry know how he felt about the aged wizard; and although Severus appeared to be the calmest of all, Harry would be a fool to ignore the shadows dancing furiously behind the frowning Daemon.
Narcissa reasoned with him that his three suitors have yet to get over the surge of protectiveness from the Skele-gro incident, and given the fact that the Headmaster had hurt him before, they were bound to react very harshly. Even so, Harry still found their guard instincts a little too much; he had already endured an entire week of coddling from them after his bones recovered – for Merlin's sake, he nearly thought he was crippled with the way they insisted on doing everything for him!
He needed to talk to the Headmaster alone, he didn't want his suitors there to see his reactions if the Headmaster said something that he didn't like, and there were things that perhaps Professor Dumbledore would be reluctant to divulge if any of them were present. So after a lot of cuddling, hugging and kissing, together with numerous promises of dinners together (Harry thought it was more appropriate to call it "feeding sessions" seeing how they tried to get Harry to eat from their forks and plates rather than his own), they finally agreed, albeit insisting that he bring along a communication orb fashioned by Severus, so that they can be alerted immediately if anything goes wrong.
Harry appeared to be calm but only Merlin knows what kinds of emotions was running through his heart at the moment – he was afraid, he had no idea what other shocking information may come out of the Headmaster's mouth; and he was still angry, at the fact that Professor Dumbledore had wanted to sacrifice him; at the same time he was sad, that the wizard who had protected him and gave him advice still kept things from him… So many emotions were meshed together when he thought about it.
Harry pushed open the door and found the Headmaster sitting at his desk, the twinkle normally in his eyes surprisingly dimmed. He gestured for Harry to take a seat in front of him, and poured a cup of tea. "Good evening, Harry. Would you care for a Sherbet Lemon?"
Harry shook his head; he couldn't understand the Headmaster's obsession with the muggle sweet. "Good evening, Professor Dumbledore. I suppose Severus told you that I wanted to see you?"
Dumbledore smiled gently, "Ah yes, your suitor was quite adamant that I 'clean up my act' and remember my promise of open disclosure."
"Yes," Harry took a sip of tea, "I would like to know everything if that's possible."
Dumbledore was silent for a moment, and then he sighed, "Of course, Harry. I should have told you everything long before… but I cared more for your happiness than your knowing the truth, more for your peace of mind than my plan… I kept thinking, you were still young, and should not be burdened by Voldemort's dark secrets… but I forgot. I forgot that you have been facing him all along, and I was delusional to think that I could keep you from all this."
"I lost my childhood alongside my parents," Harry frowned, "I might be young, Professor, but I am not naïve."
"Yes," Dumbledore agreed. "I should have realized that sooner. I will uphold my promise this time… There is so much to be told, where would you like me to start?"
"Perhaps it's best if we started from where all this begin… When my parents knew that Voldemort was after them, why didn't they retreat into the Potter Manor? I'm sure the Manor's defences would be stronger than a Fidelius Charm?" This was one of the things that Harry found most unusual when he went through the story of his scar from Voldemort with the Founders.
"The Potter Manor?" Dumbledore looked at him quizzically, "James mentioned that the Potter family never kept their family mansion readily active, he said that the wards have not been renewed for a few generations and he couldn't do it himself, since your grandfather Charlus Potter –the Head of the Potter family back then– was out of the country at that time. The blood wards could have been a better choice if it had been well-maintained, but the Potters gradually moved away from the wizarding traditions as they grew closer to the muggle culture."
Harry was stunned, "But surely – surely they could have seen that it was essential to have family defences! Especially when Voldemort was out and about!"
Dumbledore sighed, "Charlus and his own father had not lived in the Manor for the entirety of their lives, Harry, they were strong supporters for the cause for muggleborns integrating into the Wizarding World, opting to stay in other family estates that were less tied to the notions of blood purity and lineage. I asked James to contact his father, to rebuild the Manor's defences, hopefully leaving it as our stronghold if worse comes to worse but he refused, quite vehemently I might add."
"You mean- Dad he- he refused?" Harry was baffled. When he first claimed the Manor, he did have to repair its defences with the aid of the Goblins, but he thought it was simply an effect of the Potters suffering from violent deaths and no one living in the Manor.
"James was a young, confident, and successful Auror, Harry. He saw no need to rely on ancient homes to defend his own family; he had never seen the advantages of doing so, seeing that his best friends had not needed it –Sirius even ran away from it– so he refused. Not to mention that with so few of us in the wizarding community still owning a family manor, James could only associate the keeping up of ancient family homes with pureblood supremacy."
"Why didn't you insist on it, Professor! Surely you knew that it would be the best option to keep us all safe and alive!" Harry nearly spilled his tea in his exclamation, gripping the handles of his chair hard to stop himself from lunging at the Headmaster.
Dumbledore kept quiet for a second, then lowered his head ashamedly, "I admit I was hopeful, hopeful we could eliminate his forces before he heard word about the prophecy, hopeful that Tom might realise that this was the wrong way to go about changing the wizarding world – I was optimistic. Too optimistic.
"Godric's Hollow was where my family home resided once. Perhaps it was purely sentimental, I thought that it would have been the best place for James and Lily to hide with you, if the cottage was placed under a Fidelius Charm, with a well-chosen secret keeper. Sirius would rather die than to give the Potters away, I believed that they were truly safe there. I had not placed too much emphasis on family ward defences back then. Even though I have heard of rumours of ancient family magic, I have never practiced any, since my father was not from a wealthy family, and my mother a muggleborn."
Harry blinked. "Your family stayed at Godric's Hollow?"
Dumbledore nodded, "After my father was sentenced to Azkaban for attacking muggles, my mother wanted our family to have a fresh start, as much as we could have with our broken family. You see, my sister Ariana's mind and magic became very erratic following that attack from a group of muggles; my brother Aberforth loved her dearly, and became angry and disappointed in my… youthful endeavours; my mother, proud and dignified as she was, sought to isolate herself from everyone else and present our little family as complete as it can be."
Harry raised a brow, he could sense that there was a lot more to the story than those measly lines. "Can you tell me about your family? I haven't heard much about it."
Dumbledore obviously knew that too, and he continued with his family story. "I resented the situation so much back then. When I attended Hogwarts, people around me gossiped about my father being a muggle-hater, and were so convinced that I was one as well. When we were back home, the neighbours talked about the way my mother kept Ariana hidden from sight, believing that she was a squib that my mother was ashamed of. There was so much talk about me, us, our family, and nothing good came out of it. Thus I buried myself in my studies, I excelled in every area I could get books on, I wanted to prove to everyone around me that I was not my father, and I was nothing like my family.
"But do not misunderstand me. I loved them. I loved my parents, I loved my brother and my sister, but I was selfish. I was young and so full of myself, I thought myself more intelligent than others, capable of greater things than anyone could have imagined. The more I could achieve for myself, the less likely others would associate me with the misdeeds that they believed committed by my family. So when my mother died, and I was left the responsibility of a damaged sister and a wayward brother, I returned to my village in anger and bitterness. Trapped and wasted, I thought! And then, of course, he came.
"Gellert- Gellert Grindelwald. I had never met a soul with talents and beliefs so similar to mine, we connected almost immediately. I was fascinated with his idea of wizarding domination, something that would allow me to exercise my brilliance and skills. Finally, I thought! The perfect chance to prove myself! I held no thought for the consequences, I only wanted to be recognised, I wanted to do something powerful and admirable, instead of being trapped with family duties.
"but did I know, in my heart of hearts, what Gellert Grindelwald was? I think I did, but I closed my eyes. I told myself to believe, that we were kindred of souls. We would spend hours discussing our plans, how we could exert wizarding domination, how we should rule over the muggles for their own good… until Aberforth showed up.
"He blamed me for neglecting to care for Ariana, that I could never realise all my great plans because I had to bring her in tow. Grindelwald grew angry at his outburst and attacked him, I was shocked and tried to defend my brother, but I did not want to harm my friend either. Ariana tried to intervene but in the chaos of our fight, one of our spells killed her instead. Aberforth was devastated, and Grindelwald fled. My brother blamed me for my sister's death, and I blamed him. We never knew which of us, in that last, horrific fight, had actually cast the curse that killed my sister... I dreaded beyond all things the knowledge that it had been I who brought about her death, not merely through my arrogance and stupidity, but that I actually struck the blow that snuffed out her life.
"That thought alone forced me to face my errors. What I have done wrong, and how I have failed my family in the blind pursuit for fame and escape. How it could have been even worse." How easily my brother could have been wounded, or killed in that same fight, out of my foolishness and selfishness.
Dumbledore stared deeply into his tea in front of him, and silence ensued for a long moment. Harry dared not disturb him, he knew this recounting of the past probably took a toll on the Headmaster. The sense of baring one's soul and ugly past is more than intimidating, it took great courage, and often left a mess of scars in place – one of the reasons he couldn't bring himself to tell his suitors about the Dursleys yet.
The Headmaster took a long sip before he continued, "I had proven, as a very young man, that power was my weakness and temptation. So I took up the job as Transfiguration Professor in Hogwarts. I was safer at Hogwarts. I think I was a good teacher. The stories about my concern for students and love for teaching leading me to refuse the post of Minister for Magic were largely untrue. The truth was that I was fearful, fearful of myself, what I might become if I failed to resist the temptation of power – insane? Cruel? Ruthless? Sometimes I wonder, am I much different from Lord Voldemort, in the way we sought for power?"
Harry couldn't help from interjecting, as much as he was unhappy with some of the Headmaster's decisions, he was not a bad person. "You felt guilty of it, Professor. Remorse was never Voldemort's strong suit. You told me once, that it was our choices, which showed what we truly are. You chose to resist power, Voldemort chose to pursue. And you took on different paths, one to rule, the other to help."
"Perhaps," Dumbledore gave him a small, sad smile. "When Grindelwald rose to power, I tried to delay facing him. He used to be my friend, but after that horrid fight, we had never met again. They say he feared me, and perhaps he did, but less, I think, than I feared him... I feared that he knew which one of us really killed Ariana; I think he knew it, I think he knew what frightened me. So the battle was withheld for a while, but we faced each other in duel nonetheless; the result of which you are already aware of, I am sure."
Harry nodded, and finally asked the question that had been bothering him all along. "On the night that Voldemort attacked my parents… why did you send me to the Dursleys? Aunt Petunia hated magic more than anything else, she wouldn't have treated me well."
Dumbledore closed his eyes tiredly, "Another one of my larger mistakes, Harry. I knew Petunia would not have liked it, but you are her nephew, I believed that even if she did not treat you well, she would take you in and your mother's protection would have continued – you would be alive. Such magic that was borne out of your mother's love and sacrifice was rare, and extremely powerful; Voldemort and his followers would not be able to lay a finger on you as long as you still had your mother's sacrifice. Much better than risking your life in any wizarding family that might be vulnerable to Death Eater attacks, or have malicious intents themselves – we couldn't be sure, in that whole chaos, who were involved and who were not. Now I see that keeping you alive was the bare minimum, I should have done so much more."
Harry's smile took on a bitter taste, "They hated me. Uncle Vernon smacked me when something went wrong, Aunt Petunia gave me scraps of food only when I was really starving, and they ignored me most of the time. I didn't understand at first, but now I know – they were trying to punish the magic out of me, make me 'normal'."
"I am sorry, Harry, I really am. At that time, the only thing I could think of, was to keep you alive. After the chaos in the wizarding world dwindled down to controllable measures, I was supposed to check on you, but I had failed to keep your godfather out of Azkaban –the Ministry was quick in closing the case, and we had no solid evidence to prove his innocence than his own memories, neither were there any records to show that Peter was an animagus– and Remus would never have be allowed to take custody of you. You had no one from your close family to take care of you.
"And I, I have failed all of them who placed their faith in me. I was bestowed power and trust, to lead when we fought against Voldemort, and yet again, I have failed in that endeavour. I felt a complete failure, I felt so guilty, too guilty that I once again ran away. I deluded myself into thinking that you will be alive, well and safe, and I would see you again when you were eleven, and then I will try my best to guide you and help you with all your needs.
"And then when I saw you on your first day to Hogwarts, I was surprised. You looked small, smaller than the other First Years, curious but excessively cautious, unlike even the other muggleborns who were filled with nothing but innocent curiosity. At that moment, I was reminded of someone else."
Harry understood immediately the connection, "Tom Riddle."
"Yes," Dumbledore sighed. "When Tom Riddle first arrived at Hogwarts, he too was curious, but he was very wary of the people and things around him. He was so eager to learn, yet so eager to exert his power and presence in the classroom and in his House. Both of you have less than pleasant childhood experiences, both of you have powerful magical talents, and both of you have undeniable charisma. The similarities were unnerving. When I saw that wary look in your eyes, I was horrified that I had made a terrible mistake. So I watched you. Though at the same time, you reminded me of James and Lily, both bright, pure souls, both people whom I dearly loved as family but have failed, and I wanted to give you all I could. I felt conflicted.
"And then when you and young Ron found the Mirror of Erised. When I knew that you saw your parents smiling and waving back at you, the family that you have never known, my blood ran cold. I did not tell you the truth when you asked me what I saw when I looked into the Mirror – I see my parents, my sister and brother, all safe and happy, the complete family we never had… Do you understand what I feared?"
Harry's eyes widened as he made the connection, "You were afraid that I might be like you."
"Yes," Dumbledore emptied his cup in a swallow, "You had fame, you had talent, with enough time and training, power was just an inch away. Will you become consumed with the idea of power? Will your experience with your family implore you to desire a chance to prove your worth and intelligence? Will you end up like me, and make all the wrong choices? Or worse, would you end up like Lord Voldemort, who knows nothing but power and chaos? I could not stop myself from thinking… that was when I started gathering information about the Horcruxes as well."
"Thus that plan," Harry's tone was flat.
"Indeed. I thought that was the best course of action," Dumbledore leaned back wearily, his head tilted back as he stared at the ceiling. "Did Severus tell you of his conversation with me after I told you about your scar?"
Harry shook his head. He had no idea that the Shadow Daemon paid the Headmaster a visit before he said that he wanted a meeting with Professor Dumbledore.
"He asked if I had only kept you alive just so that you can die at the right moment…" Dumbledore gave a weak laugh, "It was difficult. The more I tried to convince myself that you needed to die for the greater good, the more I find the arguments flawed. I felt disgusted at myself, I have truly became a heartless old man who thought it was necessary to sacrifice an innocent child to defeat Voldemort. I am still the monster I warned myself not to be."
Harry frowned, he wanted to disagree but the Headmaster went on.
"Severus had always been sharp, and he deduced quite accurately that I feared of you going Dark, like Voldemort. What he did not know, was that the thought of you becoming like me scared me more. When he accused me of choosing this course of action out of fear, I panicked – I wanted to defend myself, but I could no longer belie my true intentions behind the plan. I could no longer hide myself from the cowardly monster I am."
Harry looked at Dumbledore sadly, all he could see now was a frail old wizard, burdened by his past, drowning in his guilt, trying and failing to fight his demons. He was struggling alone, where none could see his suffering, and taking all the blame unto himself. He was the Headmaster of Hogwarts, the Supreme Mugwump, a Grand Sorcerer, but above all, he was a lonely old man; he had followers and subordinates, but he didn't have companions and mentors. The wizard in front of Harry was no hero, no villain, but simply a man withering from the inside.
He had lost his family, and his only remaining kin estranged. He was a protector to many, but who was there to protect him?
"Professor, you are no more a monster than I am. You fear many things, as any normal person does. You have made mistakes, but so does everyone. I fear a great deal of things – losing Severus, Lucius or Draco, losing my friends, baring my secrets, facing Voldemort, dying… and I've made plenty of mistakes – getting Sirius killed, risking my friends' lives, putting the Order in danger… My parents died because of me. If you are a monster, Professor, then what am I?"
Dumbledore stared at him for a moment, and smiled gently, "No, you are one of the best people I have ever known, my boy; we are nothing alike."
Harry could only shake his head, "Did you ever ask the Sorting Hat what he saw in me? It said I had a thirst to prove myself, that Slytherin would have helped me to greatness."
Dumbledore looked surprised. He turned to ask the Hat sitting quietly on the top of the shelf, "Is that true?"
"I stand by my judgment, Mister Potter, you would have done well in Slytherin. Not that you have done any less in Gryffindor. Your mind is a… rather complicated one," The brim of the Hat opened wide, reinstating its decision.
Harry gave it a mischievous smile, "I think I appreciate that judgment better now, but I'm still a Gryffindor." Meeting the Founders' portrait had helped eliminated plenty of misunderstandings of the four Houses.
"Of course, Mister Potter, I believe you would have done well in any of the Houses," The Hat acknowledged solemnly, and then murmured softly, too soft for both of them to hear its words, "…rarely would a true heir fail to recognise all the strengths."
"I see," Dumbledore looked thoughtful, "I wonder how you would have turned out if you were indeed sorted into Slytherin…"
"My choices would have remained unchanged, sir. After all, I am still the same person whether I went into Gryffindor or Slytherin. It's all about our choices, isn't it?" Harry grinned. Casting a Tempus charm, Harry realised that it was about time his suitors came charging to check on his safety. "I guess I'll have to take my leave now, Professor, I'd hate to see your office door knocked down by overprotective Slytherins. I'll come back to talk again tomorrow, if that's okay?"
"Of course, Harry, of course," Dumbledore was quite surprised by the offer, he had expected Harry to be angry at him, yell at him or unleash his magic in rage, but not this – not understanding and a sense of kinship. "My door is always open for you."
"Good night, Professor Dumbledore," Harry stopped just as he was leaving the room, "Perhaps you would feel better if you had someone to share your secrets with, sir. I know that you did not tell me all this to have my forgiveness –I don't even know if I'll ever be able to forgive your decision for me to die–, merely to confess your guilt. I might not forgive you at all, but Professor, I do not hate you. You are still the mentor who taught me much of what I needed to know; who gave me the protection I needed when I was still a baby. Deep down, I know, we are the same."
Both of them were so much alike – they had killed even though they had not meant to, their hearts weighed with grieve mistakes, guilt, shame and fear; the only difference was that he had others whom he trusted his secrets with and sought for comfort, but the Headmaster had no one, not even his family.
But he should have someone.
I don't know whether you'll understand my take on Dumbledore's role in this case - he's not the ultimate evil guy. He has his fears, his priorities and his judgment would be clouded by his own experiences and opinions. If Harry didn't have such a hardy personality, or the luck he's had so far, or even his friends and companions to support him, Dumbledore's decision may have even turned out to be the best choice - who knows? In some alternate universe, maybe Harry didn't manage to hold up against the problem and... well, you get what I mean *wink*
So see you in the next update! (Please don't ask me when it'll be)
Love, YUU