Dumbledore's Sorrow
Harry was so angry. If they had arrived a little earlier, perhaps they would've gotten the Stitch first. Fuck this, he thought. He wasn't going to go begging to Grindelwald for it.
He turned around, discovering Ibbott glowering at him
"They left this." Ibbott handed him a black calling card with a gold 'G' in the middle.
Harry had seen it before while recovering at Remus's. Sometimes James would bring home objects from Order sanctioned raids or missions conducted by Grindelwald. This card had been one of those things.
"Grindelwald was here?" Ron gawped.
"Just his men," Ibbott said, still eyeing Harry.
He didn't like the ex-Death Eater staring, like he was trying to figure out who he truly was.
"Why does he want that dagger?" Ron asked.
"If the Dark Lord wants it, perhaps Grindelwald wants to tempt him to retaliate," said Mr Ibbott. "He's been doing a lot of that lately."
Harry frowned. "This goes beyond that. He wants Harry Potter."
"I had worked with the boy a few times before."
"You were fairly high up in the Death Eater circle, weren't you?" Harry asked.
The wizard nodded. There was something about Mr Ibbott which made him believe that he hadn't been coerced into being a Death Eater, like many others were.
They all examined the area for clues, but Harry knew there was nothing to be found. It had been a quick operation to get the dagger and get out. He wondered if the battle in Dissumule Rue had occurred because of the Stitch, and if Grindelwald's men had followed them here. It unnerved him greatly, making him wonder if they were being watched right now.
"Weasley and dare I say, a Potter? What's going on here?" Ibbott asked slyly. "A month ago, Dumbledore wanted me to keep an eye out for a black, bizarre dagger on my travels. He said it would interest me, but if it's going to put us in even more danger…"
"We've told you everything you need to know," Ron snarled back.
But Mr Ibbott was not done yet. "You know, Henry, if that is even your real name, more than half of the Dark Lord's army are not dim-witted drones you may think they are. They are highly trained, intelligent killers."
"If that's true," Harry crossed his arms, "then I'm very surprised."
Ibbott chuckled. "All I'm saying is that you are hiding something. Two known enemies of the Dark Lord would not be sneaking around my house under invisibility cloaks, if you and your friend Lucy were not in disguises yourselves."
Ibbott's wife yelled for him.
"You should go back to your family. I'm sorry about what's happened here," Harry concluded.
"Come back with me. We'll find nothing here." The ex-Death Eater frowned. "I have to admit, when I had purchased the Stitch, I wondered what I had done."
"What did you feel?" asked Ron.
"Hell." Ibbott stopped walking and stretched out his hands, examining them briefly. "When I touched that dagger I lived and breathed it. Perhaps Dumbledore wanted to punish me." He laughed.
"We've got to go," Michael whispered. "He knows who we are. He might be planning to turn us in—"
"Boys have a little faith in me," Ibbott interrupted. "I was so high up, that bringing you to the Dark Lord would not save me. My wife would be killed, my children—if they're lucky—would be too. There is no mercy for traitors."
Mrs Ibbott hugged her husband. She was very thin and her blonde hair was lacklustre. From the state of them, Harry thought they weren't eating very well. He didn't think it was from a lack of money, as the Stitch would've been expensive.
Mrs Ibbott was introduced to them as she settled everyone in the living room. As they sat down, the oldest child, a girl of twelve, brought them tea. Harry watched the girl pour tea into chipped china, before taking a biscuit, and bolted off to a dark corner where her younger brothers sat. The Ibbotts took a cup each and drank. Luna was the first to do so in their group.
"We haven't poisoned the tea," Mrs Ibbott said.
Harry almost knocked the teacup out of her hands in fear, but stopped himself. He held his breath when Luna sipped it, and relaxed when no poisoning occurred.
"We're sorry about causing a mess here, but," started Luna, "we need to get going."
"Why exactly does the Dark Lord want that dagger?" he probed, as his wife handed back their wands.
Harry shook his head. "I'm sorry, but we can't tell you."
"Even though I belong to the Order?"
"Dumbledore didn't tell you."
"True, however…" Ibbott placed his cup back down on the coffee table rather sharply. "You invade my hiding spot in disguises, remove our protection, frightening my family, and then Grindelwald's men stole it. Don't you think I deserve an explanation? Mind you, if they hadn't stolen it, you were going to, weren't you?"
Harry thought he wasn't going to get anywhere lying and the wizard wasn't stupid. He nodded.
Mr Ibbott snorted in derision. "I had conditioned many—Dahlia was the last—come here, girl."
The girl who had brought them the tea stalked forward shyly, and Mr Ibbott placed his arm around her shoulders.
"A long time ago, I would've considered her a filthy half-blood to be trained. Now I consider her like my ward." He patted her hand and let her rush off into the corner again.
"She doesn't seem all okay," Michael said with narrowed eyes, watching Dahlia wring her hands. There was a look of sheer disgust on his face.
"Lorena, would you mind if I talk to our guests alone?"
"Come along children; let's clean up the mess in Daddy's favourite room." She gathered the children and retreated upstairs.
Mr Ibbott urged the girl on, after Dahlia looked at him with worry.
"She will never be all right while she's here, with me," said Mr Ibbott. "For a twelve year old she's already killed two Muggle-borns. After what I put her through, I owe it to her and her family that I return her."
"You want us to take her back to England?"
"Yes, to the Order. I know that Dahlia's parents are there now. I can't stop her nightmares, but I can give her a better chance in life than being stuck here, in hiding, with her Mentor."
"Why didn't you leave her before you went into hiding?" asked Harry.
"There was no time. When I was discovered as a traitor, Death Eaters surrounded my house. We had no Floo, and they would've followed us to the Order boundary. I had to fight them to escape. We were chased several times through Europe until they lost my trail. We need to move again as soon as you all go home."
"Why don't you return—?"
"Please take her, and take Gale and Owen with you. They deserve better too."
Ron gawked in shock. "All the kids?"
Harry stared at Mirror Ron. "It won't be too much trouble, I suppose." He had managed with Ashley and Tony alright.
Michael cleared his throat. "What was your position in Voldemort's army?"
There was a moment of silence, but Mr Ibbott stared at Harry. Did he know who he was?
"I was chief interrogator for Voldemort. I tortured people and I trained Death Eaters to torture. If I had succeeded with Dahlia, she would've followed in my footsteps. So would my sons eventually."
"Nice job," Ron mumbled.
Mr Ibbott entwined his fingers. "You can say I excelled at it. When I bored of all the magic, we turned to all sorts of Muggle torture—the ultimate humiliation a wizard could suffer.
"You were one of the Notorious Thirteen!" Michael pointed out. The boy tensed. "I remember seeing a picture of you, but you had a beard then."
Harry shivered when he realised he was sitting next to one of his Mirror's torturers. He had heard of other stories about the Thirteen, besides witnessing this Mirror's memories. They were the most violent, depraved Death Eaters. Voldemort's army were scared of them.
"It's funny, spells are invisible until they hit the body, but when a victim sees the magically modified Muggle device or the prospect of other violations, they break down."
"And did you stop?" Harry highly doubted so.
"Begging only made it worse… That said the last person I ever tortured was Harry Potter."
"Why had Harry been your last?"
"He took the longest to break." Mr Ibbott rubbed his chin in thought. "I've never seen anyone with such determination not to give in, even when we applied the Muggle techniques. And in moments when we were alone, he would have the guts to torment me in return. The games we played. I wondered who would win in the end."
From the corner of his eye, Harry saw Ron turning white as a ghost.
"I played with pain, with control, and he played with words. Who would break first? I began to look forward to our private meetings."
"Who did break first?" Harry felt a cold shiver run up his spine.
"The boy did, but not by my own hand. Though, if it had been me, would I be here now, in hiding? Would I be a traitor? I sometimes wonder…"
"Was it Voldemort who broke him?"
"I think so. The Dark Lord saw the boy in Bellatrix's home after she had hosted a feast. I saw it in the boy's eyes—he was shattered. He didn't fight back anymore after that night… I refused to torture him from then on."
"Merlin…" Ron whispered, shaking his head in his hands.
But Ibbott continued. "He didn't even make a sound—just stared at me, like he was made of stone." He shook his head. "Then when he faced the Cliff of Mercy, we knew he wanted to jump off. If he had, it would've been his last act of defiance. However, the Malfoy boy intervened with a quick acting spell, and urged to boy away from the cliff... It was my turning point."
"So Harry was the reason you changed sides?" asked Michael. He looked rather proud that his brother could do that.
"In a way," he nodded, "you can say that he did. I had been questioning my role for a while before Potter was involved. I had questioned the Dark Lord's ideals... But, I was a Hufflepuff you see, so loyalty is fundamental to me. I was also a coward, denying my doubts, telling myself that my master wasn't wrong.
Potter brought back all my doubt. I found myself thinking did I really want my children to harm another person? I started to feel shame. Did I want to harm Dahlia further? It is amazing how one moment can change your mentality, after I had, since a teenager, been infatuated by the power the Dark Lord offered."
Harry contemplated the evil he had done to others. He was a true Death Eater, yet like Agnes Cotter, had finally seen the errors of his ways.
"I was changing, but I kept my brewing discontent hidden. I continued to condition Dahlia, but now, I taught her, cared for her. Then I turned to Dumbledore last Christmas after I got sick of it. Working for Dumbledore, I began to oversee the interrogations, but not torture. I concentrated on gathering information about the victims. Well… that's my story."
"Mr Ibbott, thank you for telling us," Harry said. "We will take your children with us."
"But what will happen to you and your wife?" asked Luna.
Mrs Ibbott slowly moved back into the living room. Harry knew she had been listening. "We will move again and again, as we've done so for months now. But this time the children will be safe and we won't have to worry about them being taken and turned into slaves."
She placed a hand on her husband's shoulder as Mr Ibbott continued to stare at Harry. "Henry, who are you really?"
"I am Henry—"
"There aren't many Mages in the world, you know. And I saw you use your ability twice this evening."
Harry smiled. "Do you really want to risk your lives even more knowing who I am?"
Mrs Ibbott squeezed her husband's shoulder before he had a chance to respond.
"Your disguise doesn't hide the green eyes I know too well."
"If he is who you think is he, would you still be alive now?" Ron questioned.
"No. Potter wants us all dead," the ex-Death Eater chuckled to himself. "The Thirteen had each made their captives suffer inhumanly and barbarically. But what he went through was the worst I had ever seen a Conditioned suffer. But I guess I am wrong after all, about you, Henry."
Harry stared back. "I think, Mr Ibbott, that you are the only one of the Thirteen he doesn't want dead, although, if I was you, I'd keep a healthy distance from him."
Ron nodded. "Before we leave, did you tell Dumbledore that you had partly conditioned Harry?"
"Yes. He was shocked." Ibbott nodded. "I've seen plenty men cry by my hand, but never my old headmaster."
"Mum," Emily Miles said softly, her hands twitched, as though she wasn't sure whether to hug her mother or not.
Lily couldn't quite fathom that the girl, a Death Eater now, stood before them. Several reports told the Order that no Death Eater, apart from a select few controlling the Muggles, was allowed to leave Hogwarts without Voldemort's authorisation. Then Molly said that Emily had escaped, although Lily couldn't believe this.
Octavia, on the other hand, remained speechless.
During the war, Lily loved moments when family were reunited again. It was also heartbreaking. Her heart ached because she understood what it felt like to lose a child, and to fear for them.
Octavia was in shock and Lily was beginning to worry about her. Her eyes were wide and she was unresponsive to their questions. Emily, still dressed in her Death Eater robes, looked at her mother without a hit of feeling. But she knew the girl was hiding it inside. Lily gently steered Octavia into a seat, and Emily jumped in to help after a moment of hesitation.
"Is she alright?" the girl asked.
Lily nodded; at least she hoped so as the Healer grew paler by the second.
"Mum, please speak to me. It's me."
"Em-Emily? It can't be… you can't be real," Octavia spluttered. "Dumbledore said you'd kill us all."
The girl rubbed her mother's shoulder. That touch stirred the Healer into action. She grabbed her daughter and hugged her so tight, scared to lose her again.
Lily watched the girl stroke her mother's hair gently. Emily was quiet and hesitant. She would've been forced to torture, to kill for Voldemort. The things she would've witnessed made Lily shiver. This girl was a Death Eater now, capable of the most heinous crimes and proficient in the Dark Arts.
No, you mustn't think that, thought Lily, Severus would've protected the girl from all that. Still, with all that's happened, an anxious feeling enveloped her like a blanket.
"Why-why d-did you c-come back?" Octavia cried. She pulled back and gently caressed her daughter's cheek.
Emily fleetingly searched Lily's face, before focusing back on her mother. Lily then understood that there was an ulterior motive. Emily had never escaped Hogwarts. Lily felt for her wand just in case.
"I've only come for a short while. I need to return to Hogwarts. I wanted to see you and talk to Dumbledore."
Octavia cried harder, startling the girl.
Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Octavia, I don't want to make it any harder for you, just when you have been reunited with your daughter, but we need to chat with her alone. Time is of an essence, especially after all that's happened today in the Muggle realm."
Emily stood up, her hand still tight in her mother's grasp. "Mum, I'll be back, I promise, please let go."
Octavia sniffled. "You used to love being hugged. Could never get enough of it… you never wanted me to let go of your hand… Merlin, I miss your smile. You don't smile now, do you?"
Emily didn't respond to this statement. Her face was devoid of any expression as she walked out of the room.
Dumbledore followed her upstairs into one of the bedrooms. Lily hesitated but then chased after them, leaving Octavia to sob alone.
They entered Ginny's room. The Weasley girl was a little stunned when the Death Eater entered, demanding privacy. She had been listening to the wireless about the destruction of London and other areas by thousands of Death Eaters and Dementors. By dawn, a million alarms had gone off. First it was Voldemort's army placing control spells on the Muggles, and killing as many people in Authority. The Dementors attacked the cities, and then the Muggles under the Imperious Curse were inciting the panic and violence. It was too much for the Aurors to handle, and the Muggle forces had been attacked as well.
Ginny eyed Emily warily. Lily smiled at her as she left and closed the door.
"The Dark Lord's been busy this morning," said Emily casually as she switched off the wireless.
"What do you want to talk about?" Dumbledore queried.
Emily gazed out of the window where dozens of tents still stood. "This is a private conversation, Mrs Potter." The girl turned around. "Leave us."
Staring at the front door of Marie's little house with the others and now with a sniffling six year old Owen, a quiet Dale and Dahlia, Harry just wanted to get in, pack, and get out quickly. There was nothing else to be done in France.
Marie opened the door, her wrinkly mouth turning into a frown seeing at how deflated they all were.
The children were whisked into the kitchen to be fed a hearty meal by Marie. But Harry now noticed how flustered she was, and there was a look of terror on her face when she caught sight of Harry.
"Er, something wrong?" he questioned Luna.
Marie gripped Luna's elbow, steering her to the television in the living room. She pointed at it, frantically explaining what was happening.
Harry did a double take. London was in ruins, fires everywhere, looting was occurring and bodies littered the streets. Muggles were screaming, smashing shop windows, stealing and setting fire to cars. There was a large mob holding onto guns and sharp implements and a crucifix or other religious symbol in their other hand. Harry even saw someone carrying a long sword. Behind them, tens of green glittering Dark Marks were in the sky. They were all shouting in unison, that the end was coming. The scene cut to a church, where it was filled to the brim with praying people. The scene then quickly changed, showing other parts of the country in similar state.
"What happened?' said Harry in shock.
"Dementors and Death Eaters killed everyone in parliament house, and the army and all police invaded homes, killed a hundred thousand Muggles. The air force destroyed airports and train stations and electricity plants, while the Navy bombed ports and seaside towns. The royal family have gone into hiding abroad. No one is running the country. The Inferi are now involved now, infecting Muggles with their undead disease."
"Bloody hell," replied Ron.
There was a shaky camera scene of the Muggle army marching with the police, then with hundreds of Death Eaters behind them, cloaked and masked, marching in unison through a street in London. Then the cameraman was mysteriously brought down, the camera angled on the ground while dragon hide boots marched by. The Death Eaters bore silver shields, and quite strangely guns were slung over their shoulders.
"I bet you those guns are really their wands in disguise," Michael said.
A French news reporter was telling the nation about the English telecast interruption that had occurred earlier on, and it cut cross to that scene.
"Shhhh!" Ron waved at them.
The general, who looked as though he had been Imperioused was standing in front of a microphone. Harry noticed blood on his crisp white collar. Behind him, looking immaculate was Lucius Malfoy, Mulciber, Priscott, and Crouch Jr, pretending to be army or police officials.
"To the English people, the country is in a state of total control by a group we have dubbed, The Green Skulls. We ask that you all remain indoors. Lock your houses and do not set foot outside unless there are instructions to do so. If you are caught outside, you will be apprehended with force and killed… Instructions will come soon, so do not despair..."
Harry sat down in a state of disbelief. His mind was reeling, and he kept asking himself, is this what is to become of his own world?
"You know what's going to happen now?"
Harry tore his eyes away from the television screen, now showing dozens of faces of major political deaths.
"They're going to order the Muggles out in droves, separate the children from adults. They'll enslave the kids and but the adults under their control."
"You can't put millions of people under the Imperious Curse!"
"That'll be impossible, but they'll select a few to become leaders, and change their way of life, so that everyone will serve Voldemort. Voldemort will create a Muggle army to invade other countries, and they'll be the front line before the Death Eaters move in. Voldemort will eventually make the Wizarding world known and superior to the Muggles."
"How do you know all this?" Harry gasped.
"Dad told me."
"Yeah, so did mine," added Michael with a rigorous nod. "I can't believe it's actually happening."
"Scary," Luna said as she took off her disguise. "Marie just told me, France has issued a crisis alert to its people. There is a curfew now. Everyone is panicking because they know Voldemort will want to take over France next."
Harry rubbed his aching eyes, letting a tumble of brown hair cascade down. He did not take off his own disguise, afraid he would scare the children more than they already were. He could hear the youngest sniffling.
"I feel like this was a waste of time," Ron said. "Now with all this happening, we don't have time—"
"No it wasn't!" implored Michael. "We know Grindelwald has the dagger. We've just got to get it off him. And we're taking Dahlia back to her parents."
"Grindelwald is on our side." At least Harry still hoped he was. "So it won't be that hard getting it."
"Sod off," Michael said in shock. "There is no way he's with Dumbledore!"
Harry did not elaborate on what he knew. "Luna, will you come with us?"
She shook her head. "I will go back to the Order in a little bit once I convince Daddy."
Ron quickly Flooed back to the Burrow, telling his father they'd be coming and where they should meet.
"Keep your disguise Henry, I want you to come to Order HQ with me," Ron pleaded with a whisper; he looked quite frightened being in close distance to three children.
Harry felt rather nervous about this. "I don't know if I could—"
"Yes you can." Ron beseeched, clapping Harry on his shoulder. "Don't worry about it."
Harry was rather curious about what was happening in the Order, even though he was in a different universe. In a way, this whole mission had stimulated his curiosity and his sense of adventure again.
After a rather sad goodbye to Luna, and a load of 'thank yous' to Marie for looking after them, Harry, Ron, Michael and the Ibbott children Portkeyed just outside the town of Ottery St Catchpole. Harry hoped Luna would be alright and wished her well as he whirled around with the Portkey.
They hit solid ground, and after a moment of dizziness, Harry was glad to see Mirror Bill and Arthur Weasley waiting for them.
"Henry?" Mr Weasley asked, cocking his head.
"Er…" Harry nodded, and Mr Weasley beamed, shaking Harry's hand with fervour. "Welcome! Good to see you're finally in good health."
"Thank you, Mr Weasley," Harry smiled back. Mr Weasley looked exactly the same and so did Bill, except Bill had no scars on his face caused by Greyback.
"Now, since the Order is under the Fidelius Charm, you will need to read the address Dumbledore has written out."
"Quickly now, it's not safe here," Bill said worryingly, looking around. "We fought Death Eaters and Dementors here last night."
Harry soon realised that the little town, up the hill, was deserted. A few cars had been burnt or overturned, a few still with smoke hovering about them. Harry also saw several mutilated cows on the road.
"If we get caught—"
"We'll fight back," Mr Weasley added. "We aren't Muggles." He stopped by the curb to pick up a melted mobile phone. "Besides, we've killed a few Death Eaters last night, so they won't be returning for awhile."
"They'll just spy on us," said Ron.
"They can't find you though," Michael pointed out.
"True, but they know the Order is here somewhere."
Bill passed Harry a slip of parchment as they began walking to The Burrow, which was a five minute walk away. Harry knew the place so well, that even with the charm, he sensed where it was. He could feel its presence like a breath of a ghost.
As soon as he finished reciting the address he knew off by heart anyway, Harry looked up and saw his favourite place, besides Hogwarts, materialise out of thin air. He passed the parchment to the children so they too would see the house.
"How does it stand like that?" said Owen with awe, taking a moment to stop crying.
Harry saw the tents crowding the property in a haze of smoke and mist. Ron hadn't exaggerated when he told him about the hordes of Ministry refugees there.
There was a loud babble as they walked within and towards the house. Harry swelled with pride when he saw McGonagall teaching a bunch of children under a tree to transfigure a stone into a needle. Near a polka dot tent, Harry saw Flitwick demonstrating a perfect swish and flick movement. Some older children were delighted when James vanished a Boggart. Harry also saw Charlie showing two young women pictures of dragons he had reared in Romania, although the women looked more interested in Charlie than the dragons.
But mostly there was a sombre mood in the camp. There was plenty of whispering and pale faces. People were huddled in groups talking about the Muggle situation.
"Ron, take Henry and Michael inside. We'll take the children to be registered and seen by a Healer."
They waved goodbye to the children who looked rather frightened to be left in Mr Weasley and Bill's hands, but Harry knelt down and reassured them.
"There is nothing to be scared of here. It's the best place in the world. Everyone will look after you and your mum and dad will come back as soon as the war is over. Stay together, okay?"
Owen and Dale nodded sadly, but Harry could still see the fear in their eyes. Dahlia was shaking and Harry felt for her the most. Being uprooted several times wouldn't be good for her. He wondered how she would react after meeting her parents.
Ron tugged Harry to move, and he got up, reluctantly, turning away from the children. They started walking when Fred and George appeared from around the house, and then their faces lit up seeing their brother.
"Ron, you're still alive!" piped Fred. "Michael—you little shit-stirrer, your mother almost raised the dead when you disappeared."
"Shut up," Michael spat, his cheeks reddening.
"Well, is this who—?"
"We think it is?" finished George, staring at Harry like he was a rare exhibit at a zoo.
"Does everyone know who I am?"
"Nah, we found out rather by accident, didn't we, George?"
Harry highly doubted it was purely by accident, knowing the Weasley twins.
George winked, then whispered, "yeah and then Dumbledore told us to keep our fat traps shut." He shook Harry's hand, his eyes glowing. "We want to see you without your disguise though, and you have to tell us everything about your world."
"Yeah, and more importantly, if our Mirrors are just as handsome as we are."
Ron was about to steer Harry into the house when Fred pulled on his sleeve. "Hey wait, come see this, Har—"
"Henry," corrected Ron.
"Ah, yes, Henry, come and see what the Order is up to."
"What's going on?" asked Ron, curious himself.
"Dumbledore finally got the Goblins working with us, and since the Muggle world is up in smoke, we're rather desperate to get everyone on the same wavelength."
They gasped when they saw the entire paddock out the back filled with wizards, witches, Goblins, house elves and centaurs all training for battle. Harry saw spells bouncing off, or hitting their targets of potato sack scarecrows with Death Eater masks. The Centaurs were practicing with their bows and arrows, while the goblins were sharpening their goblin wrought weapons or spearing them through targets. House elves, many of them, Harry noticed they were heavily disfigured and missing limbs, were having fun with their own rudimentary magic. Harry was a little curious, even hoping to see Mirror Dobby. But he was nowhere to be found.
Even more strangely witnessed, Harry saw a group of ghosts, though he wondered what use they'd be in battle, other than to give living people a dose of hypothermia when they went through them.
He also saw Hagrid teaching people to ride hippogriffs, while a dozen gnomes watched on behind the bushes.
"Inter-species cooperation," Fred started, "I doubt I'd ever see this again in my lifetime. A lot of the Centaurs were killed, and the house elves at Hogwarts were slaughtered, except for a few who escaped in the beginning. Many had travelled from Europe to help."
"It's great," said Harry proudly, hoping that such fierce cooperation would be reciprocated in his world.
"We're going to win this war for sure now," Ron said. "But come on, we've got to get moving."
Harry didn't expect Molly Weasley to open the front door with an unhappy look on his face. "Where's Michael?"
"Hello to you too," the boy replied. Harry looked at him reproachfully.
"Your parents aren't pleased with you," Mrs Weasley said. "That was a very foolish thing you did!"
Michael brushed past her, before she started yelling.
"We didn't know he followed us," blurted Ron, as his mother pulled him into a bone-crushing hug.
"Alright, everyone come inside."
Mrs Weasley shut the door and instantly steered Harry into small dark room where she then switched on light. "Harry." She smiled, patting his cheek lightly. "How are you? I'm so happy to finally meet you."
"Thanks, Mrs Weasley," said Harry.
"Are you hungry?"
"Rather famished," answered Ron.
"You always are, Ron," Mrs Weasley chastised. "I'll whip up something nice for you, Harry. But before I do, Emily Miles wants to talk to you—"
"Hang on, Emily, the Death Eater?" asked Ron. Mrs Weasley nodded darkly.
If Emily was here, then Harry knew something was wrong. "Yes, of course."
It didn't take long for Lily to arrive appearing flustered and worried. She went straight for Michael first.
"YOU COULD'VE GOTTEN YOURSELF KILLED!"
Harry cringed. He could hear the anguish and fear in her voice.
"But I didn't!" Michael yelled back, backing himself against the wall.
"I'll be in the kitchen," Ron whispered to Harry, before he tiptoed past them.
"Don't you start, Michael, I don't want to hear it, and quite frankly, I'm so exhausted worrying about you that I can't look at you."
"You let Harry go on missions—"
"HE NEVER HAD A CHOICE!" Lily screamed.
"I WANT TO FIGHT!"
"He had the training—you don't Michael, not yet!"
Michael sped past Harry and banged the kitchen door shut.
"YOU'RE NOT READY TO FIGHT!" Lily was furious. "Oh blast it!" she snapped.
Harry looked around the dwelling, wondering with bated breath what Mirror Ginny was up to at that very moment, but he was unceremoniously snapped out of his thoughts when he caught sight of Lily staring at him, her cheeks still hot with anger.
Her grimace slowly turned into a small smile. "Sweetheart, did it go well? You can take that disguise off now. You're safe here."
"It didn't go well."
But she seemed too distracted to even question him about it.
"I got a message that Emily wanted to see me."
Lily and Harry found Emily sat rather stiffly on the couch. Her brown hair was in a thick plait, she looked at him without a blink.
"Harry, I need your help."
"Haven't I been doing lots of that already?" He crossed his arms.
"Snape's in danger. He'll be killed if I don't take Jessica Potter to Voldemort."
"No!" Lily gasped. "Oh my God! Emily, don't involve her."
"And you need my help, why?"
"I owe him my life. You have no idea what some of the Conditioned go through and, and he spared me from so much cruelty."
"I have a very good idea what happens to them," Harry replied. "Why do you need me?"
The witches stared at each other darkly.
"Emily, don't you dare ask him," Lily warned. "If you need someone, I'll do it."
"I knew you'd offer. But I you're not the right person for this mission," the Death Eater replied, choosing to gaze at Harry. "We, that is, Dumbledore and I, are hoping you'd fill Jessica's place."
"NO!" Lily said adamantly. "I won't allow this!"
Harry noticed his mouth was open in shock after several moments. He took a deep, steadying breath. "You want me to Polyjuice myself into Jessica and meet Voldemort?" There was a sort of surreal absurdity about this scenario which made him laugh out loud.
"He won't keep you at Hogwarts," Emily implored over his laughter and Lily's protests. "He just wants to speak with Jessica."
"Why me?" Harry asked. Searching for the Stitch was one thing, but this was walking straight into the dragon's fire.
"Yes, why him?" Lily pointed. "I'll do it, tell Dumbledore I'll take my daughter's place—!"
"Stay out of this, Lily," Harry said. He wasn't going to let his Mirror mother get involved.
"Because of your history with Voldemort. You know him better than any of us."
"Did Dumbledore put you up to this?"
"This is my plan," Emily interjected. "You have the experience to pull it off."
"Look, I have to think about this—"
"Harry, I'm sorry, but time is very important, and we need to know urgently—"
"At least give me a few minutes!" he snapped.
"Give him more than a few minutes, because I'm going to make Dumbledore rethink this. If he needs someone, I'll do it."
"NO! Both Emily and Harry yelled.
"Harry, I will not let Dumbledore play with your life again!"
When did he stop? he thought savagely. "She's asking me, not you."
Lily shook her head and rushed out of the room, no doubt to find Dumbledore. Emily soon left to give him some peace.
He realised why they didn't want to use Jessica. She was a damaged little girl, and it would put her through more harm to go through this. Also, since she may still be under the Imperious Curse, Voldemort could order her to do things.
On the other hand, Harry couldn't do it. He couldn't meet Mirror Voldemort, not when he was compiling every ounce of courage to fight his own.
Harry heard footsteps in the silence. "Would you mind shutting the door?"
"I do not mind."
It wasn't Lily who had responded, but Dumbledore. Harry scowled when the old wizard handed him a mug of tea. Harry did not even look up, just played with the mug, vaguely wondering what the tea dregs said about his fate now.
"I thought you'd be trying to help the Muggles."
"I was this morning. We moved the royal family to Denmark for the time being. Kingsley is in charge of the operation."
"So will the Wizarding world come out into the open?"
"Eventually, however, there is a lot of speculation in the Muggle community that these terrors are of a supernatural cause—demonic, and some are declaring the end of the world is near. So in a way that has shifted the focus away from our existence."
He hated to be on the street right now witnessing the carnage. "I don't think Voldemort and his army are any different to demons."
"Very true," Dumbledore agreed. "Harry, I will respect whatever decision you make, regarding this mission. I want Severus saved. After what I put you through, I cannot do it again. I cannot let my trusted friend suffer after all he's done for us."
Harry snorted. "You really think he won't be killed?"
"Not yet. He is still useful to Voldemort."
"Why can't you use someone else?"
"You know why. You see what he does, you feel what he feels. You know him. He will not harm Jessica. But I do want to know what he plans for her. And if she is put under the Imperious Curse, you will be able to fight it, whereas she cannot."
Harry so wanted to tell him the truth. He ached to.
Dumbledore peered at him above his spectacles. "I feel as though you are hiding something from me. But I also feel it is a secret that will endanger lives. Do not tell me."
Harry nodded, feeling instant relief.
"So you have met the Ibbotts?"
Harry looked up, hoping all was well with the children.
"We will reunite Dahlia with her parents before the hour is up. Mr Weasley has told me what had happened in France. I have also dispatched a Healer to help Mr Lovegood."
"Grindelwald—he wants Harry to get the Stitch."
"Harry, he wants you not your Mirror. He is fascinated by your presence and your growing power."
"What, so he'd be interested in talking with me in exchange for the Stitch?"
"Grindelwald wants to harness the Mage power. He wants to study a Mage and go through with its ancient rituals."
"He won't get anything useful from me, I still don't half the things Harry does."
The ancient rituals he had touched upon in the book Snape had given him involved meditation, blood, life, death and the invoking of the power of nature and even then, an unnatural Mage was inclined to die, not being able to control the rapid absorption of power. And when a Mage died without fulfilling a phase, it had catastrophic consequences.
"I think he's rather stupid to be thinking of becoming a Mage."
Dumbledore smiled benignly. "I suggest that you let someone else get the Stitch for you. I have asked Mr Weasley to do it, and he has accepted."
"Why not James?"
"I need James with me now, to plan for the battle. James and Remus and the Weasley twins know the secret passages at Hogwarts more than most."
"So the battle is going to be soon?"
"Oh yes," Dumbledore nodded. "Once Harry wakes, things will move very quickly."
"But sir, aren't you worried about Grindelwald wanting to takeover?"
"It was a risk from the beginning, but we have grown close over the last few months. He has changed, and after sixty years in prison, his power is not the same."
Harry mumbled, "yes, but after Voldemort is gone, what will he do?"
"He says he will disband his group and go into hiding, preferably to a tropical island where he can concentrate on his power. He has urged me to come along. It sounds tempting," Dumbledore replied. "We will see."
Harry couldn't help but think the Dumbledore will be bitterly disappointed.
"Sir, what do you know of Obsidian Stitch and what it does?"
"I am an old man, Harry, I know a lot of things and while I did know of the myths existing, I did not recognise the Stitch as being that particular dagger until you Mirror was in Azkaban. Nor did I have the time to investigate as you've witnessed in your Mirror's memories. However, you know a lot about it."
"I do. Also, I've guessed what Harry did to Voldemort… but I want to hear you say it. Why does he want the Stitch?"
"To heal his power," Dumbledore answered. "When a piece of soul is made into a Horcrux, what soul remains in the body is diluted, but the power and personality of the person is healed, although a little scarred, distorted. In Voldemort's case, the creation of his many Horcruxes had caused his appearance to change into what he is today."
"That doesn't explain why—"
"The creation of Horcruxes does not destroy your power. It is my belief, that Harry has been quite modest in his explanation in how he destroyed Voldemort's power. When Voldemort had created him into a Horcrux, Harry had done something to him, so that each time he made a Horcrux, his power could not be repaired."
"I just needed to hear you say it." He felt reassured now. "Sir, I would like to get a straight answer from you now. If you had known about Harry being conditioned, why didn't you help him?"
"I thought he was lost." Dumbledore sighed heavily. "When I found out, Harry had already been in Azkaban for months. He had totally changed from the boy I had known. I believed he was still up to fulfilling nefarious ideas. My memory is much better now. I am able to retain memories. I know that Harry is a Horcrux, had been conditioned and…and that I…" He fell silent.
"Betrayed him."
"You know," Dumbledore sat up straighter, "you can circumnavigate Taboo subjects with clues. If you are keeping a secret from me I am guessing it has something to do with one of Harry's brothers?"
"And maybe his sister."
Dumbledore closed his eyes. "Thank you, things are falling into place now. I think I may guess one of the reasons why Voldemort would like to see Jessica. The curse on her eyes, is it still active? I do not want to tempt fate testing her and trying to remove it."
"She'll die if you do anything." Harry felt as though even more weight was suddenly lifted from his chest. "That's how Harry controlled her to let me go—" Dumbledore raised his hand.
"Do not reveal too much."
Harry inhaled deeply. "If I don't help, who will you use?"
"Lily—"
"No way."
"She wants to wring my neck if I don't comply with her wishes, but she has three children that need her and James… James on the other hand does not agree with all we are doing to save Severus. He doesn't want you to do this. This is your choice Harry. You've come so far, and I know Voldemort will not harm you."
Harry shrugged. "I think Snape should be rescued."
Dumbledore bowed his head. "Harry, will you help us one last time?"
"I'm not—all right, Okay I will." Harry cringed, feeling regret already. "But this is the last thing I will ever do for this world. I want to go home straight after. Harry will takeover, he says he's going to wake very soon, days in fact."
"He will." Dumbledore smiled. "Thank you."
"You can thank me by showing me why he hates you."
With a great deal of hesitancy Dumbledore pulled out a vial from his pocket. It was a bottle with a silver strand of a memory within it. He waved his wand and a bowl with an ancient inscription of runes on its side, materialised with a pop.
Dumbledore sighed and swirled the contents of the Pensieve with his wand. He looked unsure and even ashamed, as he placed the memory in the bowl. "Please, you enter first."
Heart pounding, Harry did as instructed and plunged head first into the silver fluid, gently touching the ground of a disused manor house. He wobbled, almost falling, but Dumbledore caught him by the arm in time.
They walked through a dark house, where he noticed a long trail of blood on the floor, as though someone had been dragged. They followed the trail down the stairs until they were in a dungeon. Harry heard the echoing screams within, and knew instantly, that this wasn't the same dungeon his Mirror had been conditioned in. This dungeon was larger and filled with many prisoners.
The trail ended at a closed door. But this was Dumbledore's memory and he quickly went through the door as though he was a ghost. Harry followed.
Water was dripping around them and the rattling breath of a dying old man filled their ears. In front of them, Dumbledore lay chained, weak and wounded. He was curled in a heap of the finest robes. His leg was twisted at an odd angle, and judging by the pool of blood, his head wound was the most serious one.
Harry looked around and was startled to find Voldemort, wearing hooded robes, examining the Elder Wand. Bellatrix, MacNair and Lucius Malfoy stood either side of him. Malfoy was very pale. He did not look well at all.
"You fought well, Dumbledore, however, we were better."
"Against a thousand men... I had... no hope."
Voldemort strode forward and nudged Dumbledore's cheek with his boot. "Where are my belongings you stole?" he hissed. "I knew you were up to something. Where are they all?"
"I-I do not have them."
"LIAR!" Bellatrix screamed.
"My cup was once in the Lestranges vault until I had it moved recently. Only two of my trusted servants, besides Bellatrix, knew of its new location."
"Yes, besides me!" Bellatrix exclaimed, bashing her chest with a fist.
"You—you trust no one, Tom," Dumbledore gasped.
Voldemort sneered. "One of the two betrayed me and told you, hence the reason why you tried to steal it today at the Nox's house."
"The Nox's… a good family…"
"They are Mudblood lovers, and they deserved death," Voldemort hissed. "Dumbledore, the security they have around their property isn't as good and pure as you thought. It is Dark magic. Powerful and secretive."
Dumbledore smiled gruesomely, "I'm not as pure… good as you thought—"
"WHO TOLD YOU ABOUT THE CUP?" Bellatrix screeched.
"No one… no… did."
Voldemort circled the dying wizard. "You don't fool me."
"WHO TOLD YOU?"
A jet of white light struck Dumbledore, and he howled in pain.
"Please… please… don't know." He held up shaking hands, shielding his head.
"When I noticed that my priceless possessions were missing, I was furious. I wanted to interrogate as many as possible, but I decided to wait, to see."
"When… did you…you notice?"
"After I decided to check on my Death Eaters abroad, I visited two vampires who had kept something of mine, only I discovered two piles of ash and my possession missing. Then I checked for everything else. All were missing."
"Except for the cup…" Dumbledore stated.
"One of my servants is a traitor. I want to know who it is; otherwise you would never have taken the bait to my trap. Why would my treasures, my only possessions, be of interest to you? How long ago did you start stealing my things? Was this traitor doing your bidding by taking them?"
"I was... merely interested in the... in the properties of them."
"Why?" Voldemort's eyes flashed red.
"You know why."
"What have you done to them?"
"Why Tom, I... I destroyed them."
"No," Voldemort said, cocking his head to the left. "You're lying."
"How sure are…are you that the cup... you have… is the original?"
"YOU THINK YOU CAN PLAY GAMES WITH ME?" Lord Voldemort roared in anger, in terror.
He flashed his wand in the air and a white hot lash struck Dumbledore's face. He yelled in pain. The force of the spell hurled him against the wall metres away.
But then Dumbledore laughed, pain stretching along his lined face. "Destroyed…"
"My cup is safe. I keep it safe, on me."
Voldemort paced in front of Dumbledore. His hands trembled in fury as he signalled the Death Eaters. A door opened and two prisoners, a black-haired boy and a blonde one were pulled forward, bound in chains, and they were forced to kneel in front of them.
Dumbledore gasped in shock. "Don't…"
To Harry's right, the real Dumbledore shook his head in shame, his eyes squeezed shut, but a tear managed to escape.
The boys silently watched the injured headmaster as Voldemort quietly regarded them.
"You and I will discuss the whereabouts of my treasures soon, but first, who betrayed me, Dumbledore? Who is working for you? Draco Malfoy or… Harry Potter?"
Dumbledore shook his head and laughed, blood spluttered out of his mouth. "Neither, Tom, they are not… not under my command."
"Very well, very well… You've given me no choice. I could kill the both of them. But I would have wasted a wizard with good power. No, I will have to flay you slowly. Unless you tell me everything I need to know of course, and it will be over quickly."
Malfoy squirmed, bowing his head, but Harry saw him shaking. His Mirror knelt straight, though a hint of fear betrayed the steely expression on his face. His hands were stealthily moving behind his back.
"You were always a fool Tom… Always blinded…"
Voldemort laughed. "Well let me see straight and tell me who is a traitor is working for you!"
A tray covered in black leather hovered by MacNair side, and he revealed its instruments. Bellatrix waved her wand and Dumbledore was magically pulled straight; his arms held high, as though taught by an invisible rope to the ceiling, then proceeded to strip him bare.
Harry couldn't watch any longer. "Sir, please, I don't want to see this anymore."
"Wait Harry, just wait." Dumbledore squeezed his arm, holding him firm.
Macnair's flaying knife glinted bright white in the firelight as he walked past the prisoners. He rested the blade against Dumbledore's chest, letting a drop of blood christen the blade.
Neither of the boys spoke up. Harry noticed that his Mirror had closed his eyes, while Malfoy bit his lip so hard he was drawing blood now.
"No! Kill me… quickly!" Dumbledore's eyes were rolling back and forth now. He was shaking violently from cold and shock.
"Who betrayed me? And once you tell me where my things are, death will be painless."
Harry knew that he didn't fear dying. But the old wizard feared the horror and pain before it.
"Flaying is a barbaric ancient Muggle practice," Voldemort said as he circled Dumbledore's taut body. "They first need to tenderise the skin to make it easier to peel off. However, we don't have the time for that."
Bellatrix was beaming. "Keep his face intact, MacNair. It'll make it easier for the Order to recognise."
Dumbledore failed to give up the details.
"And do it slowly MacNair. I want him to feel every millimetre of it."
MacMair made a cut around the shoulder. Dumbledore didn't scream. That only started when MacNair did the next bit of the flaying process. Harry turned around; he was going to be sick now. He never ever wanted to hear anyone scream like that.
"STOP!" Dumbledore yelled through the agony. "STOOOOOPPPPPP!"
Voldemort leered. "Who then?" he purred.
"I'm so sorry… Harry… I'm so sorry…" Dumbledore cried.
"Potter…" Voldemort whispered in victory.
"IT'S NOT TRUE!" the Mirror yelled in defiance. "My Lord, he's lying!"
The Dark Lord was infuriated, but delighted. He turned to the Mirror with a cold smile on his lips. The boy was white as a ghost, but brave.
Harry wondered if Dumbledore had been in the right state of mind, if he would've given either boy up.
"As I suspected," Voldemort started. "There you see, Lucius, there is nothing more to fear. Your son is safe." He cackled, as Draco's chains slithered away.
Lucius grabbed his son by the scruff of the neck and pulled him to his side.
"Harry Potter…"
"My Lord?" the boy responded, hands now writhing in the chains binding them.
"I have watched you closely for a few years now. I have been intrigued and curious as I watched you develop. Your powers are growing, yes, oh how I've noticed... you would've been great! But it is time you parted from this world."
"Harry… It's time…" the injured Dumbledore stated, his head lolling back limply.
The boy looked away from his master. "But I haven't destroyed the last two." He said this with such bitterness.
"You—?" Voldemort drank in the words. "YOU DESTROYED THEM?" The horror in the Dark Lord's eyes was indescribable.
The Mirror smirked back, his green eyes cold now. "I've watched you too for a very long time, Master." He bowed, mocking him.
"It was you."
"You should've feared the prophecy a little more."
Voldemort stumbled back, panting. "You ruined me, Potter. WHERE ARE THEY?" he bellowed. Green sparks flew from his wand.
"My Lord, what do you mean he has ruined you?" Bellatrix trembled.
"SILENCE, BELLA."
"HARRY," Dumbledore yelled. "NOW!"
The boy's eyes flicked from Dumbledore to Voldemort. Both were yelling at him now.
"WHERE ARE THEY?"
"HARRY—DO IT NOW! He will be nothing—weak spirit. DO IT! He will not kill you."
The Death Eaters closed in. The only person who had backed himself against the wall was Draco Malfoy, wide-eyed and pale, shaking his head as though he could not believe what was happening
Suddenly, a white light engulfed the Death Eaters and Voldemort, and they were all thrown backwards, screaming in pain.
Mirror Harry jumped over the pile of squirming or still bodies. His chains which had once bound him flew off. He yanked at Dumbledore's arm as a silvery blue shield surrounded the both of them, barricading them from the green spells now hitting the barrier.
"You… you mastered it?" Dumbledore's eyes rolled back into his head. He was growing paler by the second. "You created… created spell… protects you… Avada—" He coughed more blood and shivered violently. Then he suddenly grabbed at the boy's robes. "I'm sorry."
"You shouldn't have said anything. You promised never to reveal us!" the Mirror said. "You said never to give myself up, regardless of the circumstances. It was going to be perfect."
"I… protected you, but you are now… Death Eater."
"Shhh, I'll get you out of here."
"I just wanted to see you complete… finish war."
Harry shook his head. "It's not going to happen tonight."
Voldemort continued to scream at them, firing more and more curses. The shield was beginning to weaken. The Mirror broke through the wards and Disapparated the both of them.
The memory swirled and changed. They were at Hogwarts, at the edge of the Forbidden Forest under a dark, misty sky. The Mirror, weakened from the amount of power he had used, ripped his outer Death Eater robe off and covered Dumbledore's body. He stumbled upright.
"Harry, leave… hide. Get as far away as possible," Dumbledore wheezed.
"Why did you go for the cup? It was almost over. I had a plan to take it. Draco thought I was stalling, but I knew it was a trap. I figured that the cup was close to Voldemort."
"I doubted you, Harry. So does Draco… I asked you… what was happening with the destruction… two Horcruxes… you never replied. I don't think… finished the plan anymore. Why did you not give me the locket?"
Then the Mirror understood. "You gave up on me a long time ago." He looked so betrayed now. "Here…"
He pulled something out of a magically hidden pocket. It was Slytherin's locket and he placed it within Dumbledore's hand.
"The reason I didn't destroy the locket was because the first one I found was a fake. The real one, I admit, intrigued me. Its power was fascinating. I had to have it, it was like an addiction. But I was going to destroy it tonight. I almost did, and… and…."
"You were summoned."
"As for not answering your questions about the cup and giving you updates on my plans: I was being watched day and night and my owls intercepted."
"Excuses—"
"Excuses?" The Mirror was furious. "You heard the Dark Lord! He knew what had happened to his Horcruxes months ago. Besides, I was finding your consistent messages annoying and I knew you doubted me."
"Har—" Dumbledore coughed. "You liked… the power. You never proved me otherwise."
"Do you realise what I've been through this whole year? I resisted as long as I could for you!"
"I told you… phase…"
"It's not just that! The things I did—I did for you and the stuff that happened to me as a consequence. It destroyed me!"
"You… destroyed yourself," Dumbledore said gravely.
The Mirror opened his mouth. Harry felt the boy's exhaustion, the immense hurt and betrayal, and the horror of his memories of Greyback. "You were supposed to help me through it. But I was alone the moment you asked me to become a Death Eater."
"Not true…"
"Just save your energy." Jaw clenched shut, he then he disappeared from site.
The memory dissolved and Harry and Dumbledore both found themselves back at the Burrow.
"A week after that, Harry had been caught. Draco Malfoy was giving him supplies, and Bellatrix followed him. Voldemort decided not to kill him as he saw greater use for him… He was given to Bellatrix and conditioned into a model Death Eater."
"Yes…"
"Usually one or two Death Eaters are involved, but in Harry's case, it was the Notorious Thirteen: The Lestranges, the Carrows, Ibbott, Greyback, Tom Nesbitt, Klaus Ebner, MacNair, Olive Dreadford, Bob Cadwallader, Vera and Julien Roux." Dumbledore shook his head. "They are the worst of the worst. Some are unhinged, sadistic, and that's why Voldemort likes them by his side. People are scared of them. Voldemort likes his servants to conform to his every whim, with his inner circle controlling them. So he entrusts these thirteen Death Eaters with the most stubborn of captives, spies, traitors, and to keep the peace in his army. The victims bodies would be strewn all over the country in pieces… desecrated, mutilated. It is horrific…"
"I've heard stories," gulped Harry.
"And the children they've conditioned are so broken, that they don't know who they are anymore. Many do not survive… The Pettigrew children learnt quickly that the only way they could escape Bellatrix's torture is to just do whatever she wanted them to."
Dumbledore covered his eyes with his shaking hands. "And to think that Harry at suffered in all their hands…"
"And then Harry was made into a Horcrux."
"Yes. He excelled spectacularly as a conditioned Death Eater and developed a healthy hate for me... and rightfully so."
Harry crumbled into a chair, letting every word sink in. "Malfoy?"
"Draco told me the location of the cup. Trap or not, the hunt had gone on for too long and I needed to step in and complete the search."
"Why didn't you give Malfoy up?"
"Even though inducted into Voldemort's circle, he had never had the willingness to torture and kill. There was always reluctance in him. He just didn't know how to escape from it all. I knew Harry would win him over, and that is partly one of the reasons why I wanted him to become a Death Eater: to help Draco. He willingly fights for us. I am proud of what he has achieved and how he has grown into a brave man."
"How did he tell you without getting himself caught? Wasn't he being watched?"
"He used a house elf, by the name of—"
"Dobby," Harry exhaled. He rubbed his aching temples.
"Yes and he forbade the elf to ever speak of it again. He was killed last year by Bellatrix."
"Are you proud of Harry now?"
Dumbledore opened and closed his mouth. "I… I gave him up believing he had switched sides, that he was harbouring the real Horcrux locket, and would use it to gain leverage over the Voldemort."
"Yeah, he was drawing himself in to the Dark side, but he still wanted to finish the war—"
"Harry was changing. He was starting to enjoy torturing Muggle-borns and was developing a healthy aptitude at abducting people. He did not care about defeating Voldemort. He was more interested in gaining more power."
"You do realise, some of it was part of the act? Do you know that he had resisted all he could for you? He never wanted to kill. But Bellatrix let Greyback rape him as punishment, and…"
"He welcomed the darkness with open arms." Dumbledore closed his eyes. "Harry don't look at me like that—"
"I never want to go through it again! A part of you dies when they... Harry thought the same and it terrified him, and bit by bit Bellatrix won."
"I'm so sorry…"
"Your apologies won't change what happened to us! All I can say is that Harry knew he did wrong as he was being conditioned. He admitted to enjoying being a Death Eater. After that, he wanted to fight, but the phase, Greyback and the Horcruxes was warping him."
"I tried to help him—"
"He is so broken. You knew this would happen from the beginning, didn't you?"
"Yes... But I tried..." Dumbledore's resolve broke down. He started to sob. "I tried to steer him in the right direction."
"Sir?" Harry asked, hesitating when the wizard did not reply.
"I gave him up." He covered his eyes. "It… It was the hardest thing I ever had to do… and I regret it more than anything I've ever done, besides you. In my injured state, I was frightened of the pain… I wanted the war to finish… but I know I should've died suffering. I hate myself and what I've become and what I've forced people to endure great sufferings to get the ending I want."
Harry didn't know what to say. Here was a wizard, one of the greatest wizards in history, showing his pain, his sins, and his vulnerability. Dumbledore was a shattered soul as well, but in a different way. The decades of war had made him into a scheming man, who was in denial about the damage he had inflicted, just as long as the war ended.
"I feel so much shame and guilt. So many grave mistakes… I tried to help him, but he pulled further away from me. I gave up and thought him lost." Dumbledore inhaled sharply. "Then you…"
"Sir—"
"But you have to understand, the emotions I was going through then… if Harry, my protégé, a man who I had groomed into a Mage had turned into a Dark menace that would create another war—a new terror—then my shame would be nothing to the hell I would've had to endure. He almost did. You know he would've turned into a Dark Lord, if he was allowed to continue on uninterrupted. He saw the error of his ways too late—too late!"
He thought about his Mirror framing him so he could go to prison. The Mirror would've escaped with the children to recover and build his power, leaving Harry to deal with his problems. But the Mirror's confinement and the possession of Voldemort's soul in him had skewed his mind, fracturing it almost.
However, as he closed his eyes and imagined the boy looking at the Muggle woman's blood on his hands in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, in his heart, Harry knew his Mirror would've risen to become a Dark Lord, even if he hadn't become a Horcrux.