Chapter Three

"Well," Dumbledore said, "As we are all here, I call this meeting to order, beginning with the interrogation of Shadow under Veritaserum."

There was an intake of breath, and Shadow's eyes had taken on a glazed quality.

"Albus!" Moody growled, "I believe he came as an ally, not an enemy!"

"He saved my life!" Snape hissed, "and you abuse my potions on him?"

"Shadow!" Dumbledore said, ignoring the others, "state your name and age for the record."

"Shadow, 17 years," he said, sticking closely to the truth.

"There are no records of any children being named Shadow for over one hundred years.  What is your real name?"

"With all due respect, Dumbledore," he said, "That is none of your business!"

"You are under Veritaserum!" Dumbledore said patronizingly, "you have to answer the question at some stage.  Maybe you are fighting it, but you cannot fight it forever!"

Shadow smiled enigmatically and shrugged.

"Shall we continue with the questioning?"

"Might as well," Shadow responded dully.

"Where did you learn to fight like that?"

"Various places," he shrugged, "in Muggle London and in Wizarding training centres."

"Have you had much experience, you have been seen at all the attacks?"

"Yes, I've had a lot of experience and it became quite a logical prediction about when and where the next attack would occur."

"Can you show us your logic?" Dumbledore demanded.

"Connect the dots, Dumbledore, notice where they're going and then think about it.  Timing wise, think about when would be the most effective for each place and put it in order, maybe some logic would do your fight well."

Dumbledore blinked, "Who were your parents?"

"Good friends of many people."

Lupin rolled his eyes, "Albus, you're getting nowhere.  He's obviously delaying the reaction because he doesn't want to answer.  There are some times when you should just let things be.  You can't have your sticky beak in everything!"

"Remus, I believe I am the Phoenix here," he said, "I make the decisions."

There was an intake of breath as Remus narrowed his eyes, "maybe you do, but we're the ones who carry them out."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, "excuse me?"

Shadow interrupted the potential fight, "enough," he said coldly, "if you wish to win this war against the Death Eaters and Riddle, you would do well to stop bickering among yourselves.  Dumbledore – Moony has a point, I'm not going to answer so you might as well move onto something far more interesting than my personal heritage, although I can assure you it is long and distinguished and firmly on the side of the light.  Remus – Dumbledore does have more experience than you and he is the right person to lead your organization, don't undermine his authority."

And so, with more firmness than was imaginable, Shadow had put both the most powerful wizard and a man almost twice his age, into their place.  There was a stunned silence and then slowly a clapping began.

"ENOUGH!" Dumbledore cried, "Shadow, there is nothing you can do to prevent the potion from taking effect."

"I am immune to Veritaserum,"

"Nobody is immune to it," Snape countered from the back, "but Dumbledore should not force you to answer this.  You have done nothing wrong."

Dumbledore waved his wand, and a wind blew the hair out of Shadow's face, revealing sharp angular features, Emerald Green eyes and a scar in the shape of a lightening bolt.

"Oh dear," McGonagall murmured, for those eyes were pulsating in anger, and the scar was beginning to look quite menacing.

"You just made an extremely mistake, Professor," Harry Potter, aka Shadow, said in a voice softer than silence and smoother than silk, "In case you do not recall, I am an extremely powerful wizard.  The things you wouldn't tell me after my various battles with Voldemort, I discovered anyway, and I used them and the knowledge they provided me to train myself so that I would not be unprepared for future battles against him.

"To all of you, I am just a tool.  I'm used until I break and then forgotten.  I probably could have accepted that, if you'd had the gall to tell me to my face.  Instead, I found things out for myself, things that I shouldn't know at fifteen!" he stared around, "What did I have to do to prove myself to all of you?  I've been fighting Voldemort and winning since my First Year.  I've been doing my best to please everyone and you still don't trust me.  As Shadow, I fought beside you for the first time, and you know what, you STILL didn't trust me.   What's more," he continued, his voice nothing more than a deadly silent whisper, "all I got in return was abuse!  So tell me, Professor, why the hell I should trust you and fight your fights for you?"

"Don't speak to your seniors like that!" the Deputy Head mistress screeched in outrage, "you are a student Harry James Potter!"

Harry cut his eyes to her, piercing her soul, "I may be but a student, Professor, a lowly pathetic dunderhead, but this dunderhead is no longer your student to teach, or didn't your oh-so-wonderful headmaster tell you that?" he asked, sarcasm evident, "I was expelled, a week into my summer holidays, and you want to know why?  Because I used an unforgivable on a fellow student, and do you know which student?"

She shook her head mystified, "take a wild guess, Professor, but remember – you pushed me away once, I still fought for you, but the second time you push me away, I leave for good – and you know what?  You just hit the jackpot!"

He turned and stalked out, "and Dumbledore, I'm taking Sandrilene with me – she might be a muggle, but she's got as much right to a safe life as the wizards.  You won't provide that for free – I always thought you'd have done better as a Slytherin, rather than a Gryffindor."

Pausing at the door, he turned around and walked over to Dumbledore, "I forgot, Sir," he mocked, "you haven't snapped my wand yet," he held out the offending wooden stick which Dumbledore took and with some trepidation, ran his fingers over.

Snape chose that moment to look at Harry's face and saw a lingering sadness, a pain, an agony and something that he couldn't define, a desire – was that, a desire for it all to be over?  He realized that Potter just wanted to go, so he could get on with his life as best he could without magic.

He grasped the wand from the Headmaster, who was about to hand it back, "you just want it to be finished, don't you Harry," he said softly to the boy, who nodded, "then let this be my gift to you," he raised it above his head and with a quick motion, snapped it in half, "Good luck, Harry," he said quietly, "you deserve it."

Harry smiled, "thanks Professor," he offered his hand, which Snape took and shook firmly, "Don't give the Gryffindor's too hard a time!" moving on, he stood beside McGonagall, "Best of luck, Professor," he said quietly, "thanks for your support," he moved to Dumbledore, "I wish you well in your fight against Voldemort, I hope you never live to regret past decisions – it is more painful than the Cruciatus.  Maybe one day I will see you again,"

Finally, he moved to Moody, "That magical eye is probably more trouble than it's worth, isn't it?" he asked and Moody nodded just before he continued, "well, it's worth a heck of a lot and don't let it go unused.  You have a huge advantage, and don't forget – CONSTANT VIGILANCE" Harry cried out in an excellent imitation of the ex-Auror.

Lupin was perhaps the hardest farewell he had to say, "Moony," he said fondly, "you probably came out of this the worst – having to tell Sirius and all…  Tell him… tell him that whatever he may think, I loved him – if he can't handle what I've done, then let it be.  Maybe one day all of you will understand the truthes in the world and will see through the various clouds that blur your vision.  I hope you will forgive me for what I am said to have done."

"What do they think you've done?"

"It'll be in the newspapers later this week, I'm sure, but I stand accused – and convicted – of using the cruciatus on Draco Malfoy, and the murder of four muggles who lived down the street from my aunt and uncle.  The evidence is damning and against me, but, for what it's worth, I'm innocent."

Harry turned, and as he was leaving he called over, "someone tell Ron and Hermione that although they might not be able to find me, I hope that they consider me a friend still, and if they ever need help, I'll be there for them; even after a thousand years."