Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
A/N: Dumbledore is a very intriguing character. Do be polite in the comments.
Horcruxes, Harry thought, as he lay in bed, almost asleep. Voldemort had created Horcruxes.
He shivered as he recalled the diary Tom Riddle – charismatic, persuasive, and batshit insane. Would each one of them be like that?
Something about what Professor Dumbledore had said niggled at him, "It is Voldemort's fault that you were able to see into his thoughts, his ambitions, that you even understand the snakelike language…"
There was something about that he couldn't put his finger on.
He recalled, suddenly, feeling cold all over, the question he'd asked in second year, "Voldemort put a bit of himself in me?"
What had Professor Dumbledore said before that? He frowned, heartbeat suddenly loud in his ears, as he recalled vaguely, "You can speak Parsletongue, Harry, because Voldemort – the last remaining descendant of Salazar Slytherin – can speak Parsletongue. Unless, I'm mistaken, he transferred some of his powers to you the night he gave you that scar."
No- no- it couldn't be- could it?
He remembered seeing through the snake's eyes when Mr. Weasley was attacked, remembered feeling sure it was him who was doing it, the flashes of anger, the want to hurt Professor Dumbledore –
He pushed the blanket away from him, the room suddenly suffocating in contrast with the ice now spreading through him.
Taking a look at Ron snoring, he slipped his wand out from underneath his pillow and snuck down to the common room, as quietly as possible. Looking at the fireplace made his chest tighten, he wished he could talk to Sirius.
He pushed the common room door open, to a grumbling Fat Lady who muttered a disgruntled comment, and sped towards Dumbledore's office, hoping he was still awake.
'Toffee eclairs" he muttered, clenching and unclenching his fists, his heart racing within him as the gargoyle leapt aside and he thudded up the staircase, feeling a pang of guilt at waking the professor if he was asleep.
It seemed he wasn't.
An extremely tired 'Enter" was the only answer he got, as he knocked quietly.
"Harry?" Professor Dumbledore said, sounding rather surprised but mostly exhausted.
"Sir –" Harry began, now horribly unsure.
Dumbledore's eyes seemed to sharpen slightly as he surveyed him over half-moon glasses, "What is it, Harry?" he asked quietly.
He was a legilimens, Harry remembered.
And then spoke, his heart in his throat, as he swallowed, "I'm –" his lips were dry, "I'm a horcrux, I think."
Dumbledore stared at him for what seemed like a very long time then slumped, his eyes steady, then, sad, and finally let out a soft, "Oh, Harry,"
It was all the confirmation he needed.
Professor Dumbledore looked away for a second, and back at him, and spoke quietly, the words tinged with apology and grief, "I have searched relentlessly for ways to remove a horcrux from a living being without killing them, I have pored over books, debated dubious theories with those whom I could, and yet, have found no other way -"
Harry didn't, couldn't move.
"And," Dumbledore added, head bowed, sounding like he'd rather say anything else, "Voldemort himself must do it"
"Neither can live while the other survives" Harry quoted woodenly.
"Yes," said Dumbledore, sounding older than he ever had, his mouth forming a straight line.
"I'm going to have to die." he stated, quietly. This prospect of unavoidable, early death, somehow wasn't as horrifying as it should have been - maybe he'd almost died too many times. (He'd be with Sirius)
"I already knew I probably would die, Professor – but this – this is certain, isn't it?"
"Yes,"
Fawkes gave a quiet quavery cry, and came to rest on his shoulder. "'Lo Fawkes" he greeted softly, stroking the phoenix's feathers.
"I'm –"
"Don't." Harry said, more sharply than intended; Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Luna, Neville – all of the DA, Remus, the Weasleys, coming to mind, "I can die, I can die to make the world a Voldemort less place."
"You should not have to" Dumbledore said, eyebrows lowered, a steady current of true rage laced in that quiet statement.
And you should have searched more, Harry wanted to retort; but, if Dumbledore hadn't found out, there was no way anyone else could.
He had to look away – Dumbledore's eyes were suspiciously shiny, and he'd gently dabbed at them with a kerchief.
"Would you ever have told me, Professor?" he asked, hesitantly, unsure of why he was even asking; he would have died regardless, but not knowing that he had no choice but to, and making the choice himself were two different things.
"I would have, Harry. But I had hoped I could spare you that knowledge for as long as I could… Forgive an old man's blind love Harry, but I could not tell you that I was condemning you to certain death, with almost no hope of survival when you were already under numerous other burdens, when you had already survived so much. I had rather hoped, you would not surmise it so soon, but… ah - may I ask how…"
It didn't sit quite right with him still, as he made his way through how he'd figured it out.
"Ah" said Dumbledore sombrely, when he was done.
Harry couldn't quite speak, he continued to stroke Fawkes.
They sat in silence, he did not know for how long, before Fawkes began to sing softly – a quiet, thrumming, soulful song, that suddenly had tears spring to his eyes.
"I ask too much of you, Harry" Professor Dumbledore said softly, pinching the bridge of his nose, "And I must apologise..."
"Professor?" Harry asked, furrowing his brows, as Dumbledore raised his wand.
"Obliviate"
"Professor?" Harry murmured, wondering why Professor Dumbledore looked strained, his memory was foggy. Had he slept here after their talk earlier?
"I'm afraid you'd dozed on the desk, when I had – ah- slipped out to relieve myself, and took a rather roundabout route back to the office. My memory isn't quite what it is…" said Dumbledore quietly, "I think you had best head out now, it grows late."
Harry looked at the clock - blimey had it been that long - he nodded, gave him a smile, and set back to Gryffindor tower.
Why had Professor Dumbledore's expression been so terribly sad though?
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