Disclaimer Still don't own Harry Potter, If I did I'd buy myself a much better wheelchair
He stepped out of the fire into a round office with a bunch of odd mechanisms and little gadgets, all of which were either whirring or emitting puffs of smoke. Dominating the room was a heavy solid wooden desk. On the back wall, behind the headmaster's desk were many portraits, many of them having the appearance of sleep. An odd choice to be painted in such a position, Harry thought.
"I think that walking through the fire to end up in a completely new location, maybe my least favourite way to travel, so far," Harry said as he sat in the proffered seat.
"You have to admit it is convenient, though," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling with hidden merriment.
He let a long breath, seemingly steeling himself for what was to come
"What happened to you?" the man said, almost pleadingly.
"What do you mean?" Harry asked, his eyes lighting upon a perch whereon sat a bird, its fiery red plumage clashing with the more stately brown and muted blue of the office
"I mean what happened in those intervening years between disappearing, and coming back," Dumbledore said. Sitting in his high backed throne throne like chair looking down at harry over his half moon spectacles
Picking up an odd bauble from off the headmaster's desk, he bagan mindlessly fidgeting with it. Casting his mind back as far back as he could remember, Harry began, "Keeping in mind all of this could be wrong, I vaguely remember a green light enveloping me, then crying as I was seemingly transported, then seeing a blue sky above me, and being cradled by some unknown woman."
"My life was fairly uneventful, I would like to think up until about age eight when I was selected to become a mech pilot for the Makavian military. The first few years were mainly classroom instruction and basic mech piloting skills. It wasn't till I was twelve, that I was allowed to do anything more dangerous than run around the training yard. But I was good enough that I became an army regular at thirteen, and then began serving Makavia, the two-year active duty contract as payment for both training and mech. Upon the completion of my two-year active duty tour, I quit to become a mercenary."
"Why?"
"A couple of reasons actually," Harry said as he started to relax. "For one, the pay was a lot better, and second, I saw behind the curtain, and I did not like it."
Dumbledore leaned forward, curious.
"Why not?"
"For one, they're growing soft. Makavia boasts about having the strongest army, and while that might be true in the technical sense of the word, they had lost their drive to win. The politicians and leaders of Makavia aren't willing to do what was necessary. They live fat and happy lives, far away from any front, and they think that the military budget would be better spent elsewhere."
Dumbledore could sense the anger rolling off the man in waves.
"I take it you don't agree?"
"Real diplomacy only works when you have the power to back up any threat you might make, from simple sanctions to all-out destruction," Harry said animatedly.
"Surely you don't advocate for complete destruction, do you? Dumbledore said, consternation showing across his lined face. Feeling the need to correct this boy. He began fiddling with the file he had on his desk, mindlessly opening and closing it,
"It depends," Harry said matter-of-factly, "I've been studying some of your world's history books. I came across this one man, Adolph Hitler, who hated Jewish people. He blamed all of your world's ills on them, it got so bad that he killed 6 million, of a single religious group in five years?"
Dumbledore nodded, curious as to where this was going.
"Or in my world, a man who is not unlike this Lord Voldemort, was convinced of his superiority. He was the leader of a cult called The Church of the Awakened Ones. They would conquer towns and kill the elderly and infirm. Then the working-age men were sent to the mines, while the women were taken as pleasure slaves for Okern's high command. The only people that were 'saved' were those who joined the cult. Many people were spared as mere acolytes in the church, forced to be little better than slaves. Now tell me do you think that rhetoric and ideology should exist? Or should we eradicate any such true believers?" Harry let his chair slam back into position, the thud muted by the many tapestries in the room.
"They are like cancer. If we allow but one cancer cell to remain, it will return with a vengeance. To be able to see the body politic of cancer, we must eradicate all traces of this noxious ideology."
Dumbledore looked thoughtful. Still fiddling with the paperwork on his desk
"Do you suggest we, like the Gestapo of Nazi Germany, arrest people for merely thinking that which we as a society deem unclean? That opens a door that seems to me to lead to a very difficult place. For whom declares things unclean? The populous? Those in charge? Quis custodiet ipsos custodes? Who watches the watchers, Harry, Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?"
"In the late eighteenth century, France decided they were done with the monarchy. The king at the time, Louis XVI, was about as ineffectual of a leader as it was possible to be. While the peasants were starving, the king was throwing lavish parties. It was said that his wife Marie Antoinette was so out of touch that when told that her subjects couldn't find bread, her response was 'Let them eat cake.' Now, I doubt the veracity of such a claim, but I think it illustrates my point quite nicely." Dumbledore explained.
"The French people, it could be argued, were justified in their anger. The problem arose when they started executing anyone they even thought was harbouring monarchist sympathies. At the height of it, there were seventeen thousand killed in ten months. In the end, the leader of that revolution was beheaded for going mad with power. That is where extreme treatment gets you, killing innocent people for merely disagreeing with you. It does not make for a very effective judicial system." the old man finished.
Harry frowned, pausing for a while to consider his answer. Dumbledore looked content to wait while Harry formulated a response.
"You yourself has seen where the lax policing gets you, you could have weakened lord Voldemort to the point that when he came back he was naught but a footnote in the hie history books, but instead you did nothing, allowing his ideology to spread unimpeded, while you sat there, twiddling your thumbs convinced you were in the right!" Harry was angry now, "You're so worried about 'who will watch the watchers', that you neglect to have watchers in the first place! The fact that you're even worried about that, proves you are a better choice than the death eaters, but you're so damned scared of taking the reins of power that you let the horse run rampant,, civil rights mean nothing if they're trampled underfoot by the mob."
"Tell me, Harry, do you enjoy war?" Dumbledore asked, changing the subject.
Harry was confused at the seemingly tonal whiplash that had just happened "excuse me"
"Do you enjoy war, do you enjoy killing?" Dumbledore said again, slowly, as if speaking to a small child,
"No, of course not, no soldier does" Harry said still confused where this was going, a sword, not unlike his own sat in a display case, pristine in it's cleanliness, Harry could appreciate a clean blade, he himself was meticulous in keeping his own equipment spotless, but there was a huge difference between a well cared for blade, and a blade that is spotless for decoration
"Then why fight?"
"Because I dispise being a slave even more" was harry's simple reply
"Freedom is never more than a generation away from extinction, and make no mistake Headmaster, I've met men like this Lord Voldemort, if they win, they will enslave us. Maybe not physically, but believe me when I say, it will be even worse than you can imagine." he expounded after a few moments of silence where only the crackle of the fireplace could be heard. Harry watched as sparks popped from the roing mass of fire, little sparks of defiance leaping from the body, hoping that it would be the start of a new inferno.
"Why do you kill, Harry?" came dubledore's voice, a kindly old grandfather, faux concern masking the barb of judgment.
Somehow Harry knew this question was coming "I kill to protect those who cannot" the words venom in his mouth, "I kill so sanctimonious pacifists can sleep well at night, I kill so that good can triumph."
"Why you Harry, why send a mere child to do a job no man should have to do" dumbledore said, sadly, fiddling with his wand.
"I have not been a child since I killed a man at thirteen." Harry. "There are times I wished that I could have lived my life differently, but that was not the fate dealt to me by the gods, and there is no sense in complaining about it now. I can only trudge along, looking ever forward. .Where I come from one does not have the luxury of childhood. Tell me, headmaster, how many people lost their lives, hoch any millions of galleons were wasted because you wanted to 'protect' people from the horrors of war, how many people did you let walk free all in the name of mercy?"
"What makes you think I've done any of that?" Dumbledore asked defensively
"A couple of reasons, first off in that meeting, when I mentioned soul jars, eben those who knew what they were were surprised at their existence, why not share that intelligence?"
"It's too danger-" Dumbledore began
Harry held up his hand to stop, "I'm not finished, in the battle in the department of mysteries, I saw a lot of spells that while looked painful, did nothing to put any of your opponents out of commission for any appreciable length of time, you see in a war without magic wounding a person may even be better then killing them outright because it ties up more man power, but in war where someone just waves a stick and fixes all but the most heinous of wounds, killing your opponent is the only way to guarantee that you're not just putting the problem off till later, where you have fewer men, because your opponent doesn't have the same qualms about killing as you do.
They sat in silence each digesting what the other had said. Finally, Dumbledore spoke up.
"If you permit me, Harry," Dumbledore said, leaning back into the large ornate chair sitting behind the desk, "I would ask a more personal question of you."
Noting how Dumbledore had nothing to say in his defense, Harry sighed inwardly, this was going to be even harder than he had first anticipated.
Harry nodded in assent, still relaxed.
"Why are you so intent on keeping everyone at arm's length? Why do you rebuff so many people who love you and just want to get to know you?"
"Because they don't want to get to know me. Half of them wish to know Harry Potter. They wish for a child, the same boy they lost sixteen years ago. They don't wish to see the man I've become, the warrior I am. The other half only sees a possible way to defeat Voldemort, with no risk to themselves. They see an unfeeling weapon simply someone they can point towards their enemy and say go. They love only the memory of me. They have not accepted that in the intervening years between being ripped from this place and my return, I became something abhorrent in their eyes, something that they will say someone else will take up the mantle, but not me nor my loved ones. I became a warrior, and I became a man much quicker than you all wish, but I am who I am and refuse to feel bad for it."
"Thank you," Harry said, letting the chair he had tilted fall back to all four legs.
"I have but one more question for you," Dumbledore said much more genially than before.
"Harry, would you consider auditing the winter term this coming year?"
Harry thought about it for a moment. It could be enlightening, to see how others his age were living. And it would give him the ability to get to know his siblings.
"On two conditions" he replied "I'm allowed to bring my mech. And if anyone starts anything with me I will finish it. I will not antagonise anyone nor give them a valid reason to harm me or mine, but I will not brook any umbrage against me or mine, and finally if, and this is a big one, I agree to come, you would do well to remind any teacher that I am a guest here and will not suffer any punishment. If they have a problem with me, they will talk to me in private and we will discuss my actions. If we are unable to come to a satisfactory arrangement we will come to you, and I will abide by your ruling. I am an adult and expect to be treated as one, in return I will act in such a manner as is expected by one of my station."
"I will allow you to bring your mech, but you will not use it in these walls;" Dumbledore refuted. "As for the rest of your demands, if you are found to have been the instigator of an altercation you will answer me."
"Counter offer on the first point. I will not use my mech unless in defence of this school."
"Agreed," Dumbledore said.
He went to his desk and shifted some papers around until he found what he was looking for. He handed Harry a sheet of parchment and said, "This is the standard list of items needed for attendance at Hogwarts. Just ask the proprietor at Flourish and Blotts to swap out the first-year books for the sixth-year books."
Harry walked towards the fireplace to return to Potter Manor.
His mother was the only person still in the room when Harry returned., seated on a comfortable-looking couch, she looked up, and he was again surprised at seeing his own eyes reflected. She said nothing, just merely standing, there looking at him, waiting for him to say something, giving him some space.
"Where is everyone else?" he asked, this was the first time when not out in the barn or asleep he wasn't surrounded by people.
"They all left after you left with Dumbledore. Moody sent them all home, saying that you needed some space, and to let you be and that as far as he knew you'd still be here tomorrow. I live here, he can't kick me out of my own house."
"And James?"
"If he didn't show up to work today that would cause too many questions that no one wanted to answer. If I had to guess, he's investigating what exactly happened at Malfoy Manor." Lily grew more serious. "Harry, I don't know what you went through, and I doubt I ever will. Seeing your scars hurt me to my very soul. I'm incredibly proud of you and all that you must have endured, I would be proud to get to know you, get to know the man my son has become."
People that knew Harry Getthen would say that he was a stoic young man, never crying and rarely smiling. A consummate soldier, always putting the mission and the lives of his comrades above his own.
But the one part that was hidden from even the closest of his friends was a desire for a real family, to have a family that could be proud of him.
The only time he had revealed that information was after a battle with the Cygaran army which was the very definition of pyrrhic and he and the oldest man had shared a strong drink, trying to forget the horrors of that day. The alcohol had lowered his inhibitions and allowed one of the best mech pilots in the world to simply be a fifteen-year-old boy, and he poured out how alone he felt, how he used violence and heroism as a way to force himself to keep moving.
Refusing to cry, he instead held out the sheet of paper that Dumbledore had given him and said in a shaky voice, "I know I've seen everything on this list, but have no idea how to buy any of it, I don't suppose you know where to get any of it?"
She looked down at the paper, and back up at Harry, confused, "This- this is a Hogwarts shopping list."
"Oh is it? I hadn't realised." Harry said dryly.
Lily reached over and tried to smack him upside the head, only to find his fingers closing around her throat.
"Don't try that again," he said darkly, a dangerous power rolling off him in waves.
"Sorry," Lily said, weakly still unable to breathe.
Realising what he had done, Harry immediately released her and apologised.
"My father was the same way," Lily said quietly.
Seeing the confusion on Harry's face, she continued quickly, "My father was a tank commander during the Second World War, and he'd get the same way when anyone tried to touch him. It took Mum years to get him ok with even hugging. He was an old man by that time."
"Your father was a tank commander? I thought he would've been a wizard. I thought these two societies didn't interact."
"They don't. Your mother is a Muggleborn, the first witch in her family." James said, walking through the front door. "We have what's called the International Statute of Secrecy put in place in 1692. We're not allowed to do magic around muggles or tell anyone, besides live-in family members that we're magical. Of course, all the governments know about us, it's just the regular people we try to keep ignorant."
"I suppose it makes sense from a certain perspective. I don't like it, but it's not worth the time and energy to fight it. I do, however, need to pick things up for school. And I could use your help because I don't know where to pick up any of this stuff."
"Wait what? James asked, confused, "Why do you need school supplies?"
"Dumbledore asked if I wanted to attend the winter term, and I said yes."
James turned his wife and exclaimed, "Lily, do you realise what this means? We get to have all our children at Hogwarts at the same time!"
A/N A bit of a longer A/N this chapter, First and most importantly big shout out to ChiaroscuroGirl for her Beta she does awesome work. So first off my internal calendar was all screwed up, I meant to release this chapter today (Friday) but I legit thought that yesterday was Friday, so that was screw up number one
Screw up number two was bought to my attention by a reviewer, they said that Dumbledore kind of Ambushed Harry, and I never gave Harry a chance to respond, So I went back and rewrote parts hopefully to give Harry a better position and to fight back more effectively. Hopefully I succeeded. I don't plan on making these A/Ns very long a pattern, but I just wanted you all tjo know where I was, and how I hopefully fixed it. Much love
Much Love Imjake93
