The next few days became a blur for G.

Between getting Harry settled at St. Mungo's and arranging for operational psychologist and mind healer Nate Getz to counsel Harry, coordinating with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to ensure all the Death Eaters were properly identified, arrested and charged, and trading shifts with Sirius and Sam as Her Majesty's magical bodyguard, G's time was fairly well accounted for. He could only be thankful that Hetty was handling the press so that he didn't have to.

So the summons, however nicely phrased it was, from Albus Dumbledore came as a very unwelcome intrusion into G's duties.

Still, there was no need to start the meeting in a bad mood - even if he was fairly certain he'd end it in a bad mood. His meetings with Albus Dumbledore usually ended that way, after all.

So he apparated just outside the wards at Hogwarts - starting the meeting politely might help it stay civil a bit longer - and not long after found himself facing the gargoyle that guarded access to Dumbledore's office.

"G Callen to see the Headmaster at his invitation," G told it, and it obediently swung aside.

G found Dumbledore in his office, dressed in pale blue robes with bright orange phoenixes flying across them. Occasionally, one of the birds burst into flame and re-formed as a chick.

Ignoring the assault on his eyes, G said, "You asked for a meeting, Headmaster?"

"I wished to inquire after young Harry's health," Dumbledore said. "How is he?"

"Recovering," G said easily enough. "The healers want to keep him a few days, just to make sure there's no hidden damage beneath the effects of the Cruciatus."

Dumbledore blinked. "Is that common?"

"It's not uncommon," G said. "About one in nine cases. If it weren't for that, he'd already be discharged and impatient to get home."

"I'm very pleased to hear that," Dumbledore said. "And it leads rather neatly into one of the other matters I wished to discuss."

First sign of a bad mood in the making. "And what would that be?"

"Are you certain Harry should remain with you?" The question came without accusation, or at least the accusation was disguised as mere interest.

The apparent lack of accusation allowed G to answer civilly. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Dumbledore hesitated, apparently searching for words. Finally, he said, "Perhaps living with a murderer isn't the best environment for the boy to grow up in."

G's eyes narrowed and he called on all his undercover training to keep his anger from showing otherwise. "Two points. First, he's not a boy anymore. He's a young man, well on his way to adulthood. And second, I didn't murder anyone."

Dumbledore gave him a kindly look and spoke gently. "Dozens of bodies in a cemetery at Little Hangleton would seem to suggest otherwise."

G held back a snort. "Didn't you learn the difference between murder and killing during your long career? I admit to killing those men, but only after they attacked us. That's not murder in any legal sense."

"They could have repented and gone on to lead good lives."

"They've already had two chances to repent," G pointed out. "How many are they supposed to get?"

Dumbledore frowned. "Two?"

"Two," G repeated, wondering how the man could be so blissfully blind. "First, they could've refused Voldemort's call. Second, they could've surrendered when I ordered them to stand down. They chose their actions and suffered the consequences. "

"Those consequences mean they'll never have another chance to repent."

G blew out a breath. "You never answered my question. How many chances am I supposed to give them? More to the point, how many are you willing to let die in the meantime?"

"Forgiveness is strength," Dumbledore declared as though it were a Papal pronouncement. "It is a mark of the strong."

"And the living," G pointed out in as dry a tone as he could summon." The dead can't forgive. Or do much of anything else. I'd rather have Death Eaters dead than, say, children attending Hogwarts."

"Nonetheless, I believe it is in Harry's best interest to return to Britain - without you."

G had to admit being impressed by the man's genial façade, despite the stubborn streak beneath it. Still, he could be stubborn, too - especially when his family was involved. He smiled thinly. "You're too corrupt for me to even consider that."

Dumbledore's eyes widened in apparently honest shock. "You think I'm corrupt?"

"You think you're not?" G shot back. "Power tends to corrupt, as Lord Acton said, and you're a powerful man." Dumbledore appeared too shocked to speak, so G continued, "But it's not just you I meant - I meant the entire country. Or at least its magical ruling class - especially when it comes to Harry."

Dumbledore cleared his throat before saying, "I admit there have been a few problems, but surely you can't think anyone means to harm Harry?"

G had always heard, and usually believed, that there are no stupid questions besides the one you don't ask. Dumbledore's question tested that belief.

"I don't have to think it," G said as patiently as if he were talking to a small child. "I know it, because they already have - starting from when he was a baby."

Dumbledore started to speak, but G cut him off with a sharp gesture. "And I'm not even talking about the Death Eaters we just fought, or whoever entered Harry into a deadly tournament in the first place. I mean from the very day his parents died. Magical Britain - or certain people in power in Magical Britain, if you want to nitpick - stole the Potters' home in Godric's Hollow, the home that rightly belonged to Harry."

"It was felt that a memorial would be appropriate -"

"Felt by whom?" G asked. "And who decided that stealing from Harry was the way to fund it?"

Dumbledore frowned. "Stealing is a rather harsh term."

"Harsh, but accurate. You can call it eminent domain, if you want, but we had the Potters' estates audited. Neither the estate nor Harry himself received any compensation for that taking. They haven't received any percentage of whatever income might have been derived from that memorial - admission fees and the like - either. I'd call that corruption."

"I suppose that's one way of looking at it -"

G continued, not allowing the man wiggle room, "And then, far worse, the Potters' wills were never probated. Their express instructions for the guardianship of their son were ignored, and Harry was placed with people who abused him verbally and physically. I'd call that corruption - if not criminal child neglect."

Dumbledore's face flushed, though whether with shame or anger, G couldn't tell. "See here -"

"I'm not interested in your justifications, explanations, or excuses," G said. "You wanted to know why I think Magical Britain is corrupt, so I'm telling you. The worst offense, as far as I'm concerned, is that Harry was completely cut off from his birthright - not just the people who loved him and would have cared for him, but also the knowledge of the magical world itself and his place in it."

"Surely you see that his place is exactly why it was best that he grow up as normally as possible," Dumbledore said. "Rather than awash in fame and celebrity before he could even talk - for something that he wouldn't remember. That would be enough to turn anyone's head."

"That sets up a false dichotomy and begs the question, best for whom?" G pointed out. "But even if it were best for Harry, no one in Magical Britain had the legal right to do what they did after James and Lily Potter died. That speaks to corruption on a level I can barely imagine. No, Dumbledore - we will not let Harry live in Magical Britain."

"But -" Dumbledore protested, "the prophecy -"

The bad mood had arrived in full force, and G blew out a breath. "It has been fulfilled three times. How many more do you want?"

That appeared to set Dumbledore back on his heels, judging by the puzzled frown he wore now. "Three?"

The question made G pause and review what he knew. Then he said, "You have a point, it might just be twice, as no one knows what happened the night James and Lily Potter died. Besides that night, there was the incident during Harry's time here - when Voldemort possessed Quirrell and Harry defeated him, and last night in the cemetery."

Dumbledore sat forward in his chair. "That is true, all of it. But you must understand - Voldemort will return."

That caught G's attention. "You sound certain of that."

"Quite certain."

"How?" When Dumbledore didn't answer immediately G sighed. "You do realize that Her Majesty has plenary power in Magical Britain - and that Hetty is a friend of hers? Answer the question here, in private, or find yourself answering all kinds of questions in a public trial."

Dumbledore blinked, somewhat owlishly. "Trial? For what?"

"That corruption we were just talking about," G answered easily. "In your case, for your active participation in the events after the Potters died. Whatever the outcome of the trial, I'm certain the tabloid media will have the time of their lives reporting it."

Dumbledore paled and blurted, "Horcruxes."

That was the last thing G had expected him to say. "What?"

"Horcruxes. They're objects in which -"

"I know what they are. Why do you bring them up now?"

"I believe Voldemort made several of them."

Huh. Interesting. "How many?"

Dumbledore slumped back in his chair: "Five. Perhaps more, but at least five."

G blinked. Again. A third time. "You do realize that's impossible, right?"

"I assure you," Dumbledore said earnestly, "Voldemort is a powerful wizard, perfectly capable of creating a horcrux."

"Right," G said by way of agreement. "A horcrux. Singular. Not more than that. Or haven't you read John Dee's Principia Magicae?"

"In fact, I have. Dee said there's no limit to the number of horcruxes that could be made."

G smiled just a little. "He said there's no theoretical limit. But there is a practical limit, even if Dee left the determination of that to the theologians."

Dumbledore raised a sardonic eyebrow. "You think you know better than he did?"

"Not at all," G replied. "But my partner is a mathlete, and we discussed what the practical limit might be once, after we had to destroy one before … well, that part's classified. The point is - what happens when a horcrux is created?"

"Part of the creator's soul is sheared off and stored in an object."

"Leaving the creator with half a soul, and therefore only half as powerful as he had been before."

"That assumes the part that is sheared off is half," Dumbledore pointed out. "It could be less."

"Fair enough," G said, "but for the sake of argument, let's assume it's half. The creator decides to make another, so he splits his remaining half-soul in half, leaving him with a quarter of his original soul in his body, and a quarter in an object. Further horcruxes would mean an eighth of a soul, a sixteenth, and so on."

"Your point, Mr. Callen?" Dumbledore tried not to sound or look impatient, and G gave him credit for the effort.

"At some point, the size of the soul, either the sheared-off piece or the creator's remaining piece, is too small to do anything. I don't know exactly - maybe nobody does - but I'm fairly certain that a thirty-second of a soul isn't powerful enough to do much, even if it is somehow restored to a body."

Dumbledore waved that aside, instead giving G his most earnest look. "I believe he made Harry into a horcrux."

G couldn't help it. He laughed, and laughed, and laughed some more.

"Horcruxes are no laughing matter, Mr. Callen." Dumbledore packed a warehouse of offense and disappointment into those few words, which only made G want to laugh harder.

Finally, he sobered. "No, they're not. The idea that Harry is or was one, though - that's funny as hell."

"Not when the only way to remove it from him is to kill him," Dumbledore said gravely. "To destroy a horcrux, the object containing it must be destroyed, or nearly so."

"Harry's scar was not a horcrux," G told him. "It was a dark curse of some kind, yes, but not a horcrux."

"Can you be certain of that? He should be examined -"

G cut him off before he could suggest just who should examine Harry. "The healers and shamans who examined Harry in the States are certain. They're also certain that the exorcism cleansed Harry of whatever influence it might have had. And, really? That's probably the least persuasive argument you could've made, either for horcruxes or for Harry to live in Britain."

"You are interfering in matters you do not understand!" Dumbledore shouted, apparently at the end of his patience.

That was okay - G was at the end of his patience, too, and his bad mood was in full force and effect.

"And youare trying my patience," G snapped. "Rather than speculate about horcruxes Voldemort may or may not have made, rather than manipulate a child into fighting for people who've betrayed him at every turn, you'd be better served tightening the security here at Hogwarts. Or don't you care about the safety of any children?"

"Of course I care! How dare you insinuate otherwise?" Dumbledore looked highly offended, perhaps even on the edge of angry.

"A troll loose in the castle. Taking an ancient, priceless artifact that you knew would draw not only Voldemort's spirit but anyone else with an inclination toward immortality and putting it into a school full of children. Failing to secure the Goblet of Fire against underage entrants - not just Harry, mind you, but anybody clever enough to surpass your Age Line. Do I have to go on? Because I've barely scratched the surface."

"It was all for the greater good!"

"If that's what you have to tell yourself to sleep at night." G drew a breath. As much as he wanted to curse the man stupid, he was supposed to be the good guy in this melodrama.

Not to mention, he was supposed to be setting an example for Harry - who would be getting out of St. Mungo's today.

That last thought settled him, and he regarded the man before him steadily.

"My team and my family will be returning to the States. As Harry's guardian, and acting on Her Majesty's instructions, I am ordering you never to have contact with Harry Potter again until he is legally of age."

"You can't -!"

"I damned well can, and I am. If you want to speak to Harry, to see him, to interact with him in any way, you'll contact Hetty, Nell, or me. Is that clear?"

"Young man, I -"

"Is that clear, or will I be informing Her Majesty that you refused her order?" G allowed himself a grin. "I understand Fudge is being held in Azkaban at Her Majesty's pleasure. I'm sure he'd appreciate some company."

Dumbledore simply stared at him, almost slack-jawed. G wondered whether it was at the threat itself or just the fact that someone stood up to him. In either case, he turned toward the door. Harry would be chomping at the bit to get out of St. Mungo's, and then they had an errand to run.