Harry swallowed hard. Dumbledore knew that he was here, but did that mean that he should just give up? Maybe if he could get out of here, he could warn enough people that Dumbledore wouldn't be able to Obliviate them all. Maybe he could find someone who'd believe him. Hell, maybe even Snape....

Snape! What a bloody brilliant idea! Perhaps it was the knowledge of things like this that kept Snape so gloomy and bitter all the time. To return to Dumbledore from a monster like Voldemort only to discover that they're just the same, that'd destroy anyone's good humor.

The sound of shifting robes only a curtain away brought him back to reality. He'd have to wait until they were distracted and then run for the door. An idea struck him and he bit his lip, debating. But then he saw the hem of Dumbledore's robes begin to walk towards his partition and made a decision that he would come to regret more than anything. In fact, it would be the thought and memory of this decision that would propel his feet forward and off the side of the Astronomy Tower some six years later.

He took a deep breath and murmured, "Imperio."

Strangely enough, it worked, even with Hermione being unconscious, and she abruptly sat up, startling both the Headmaster and McGonagall. Without thinking, Harry poured all of his hatred at the transfigurations professor into Hermione, and she obediently leapt into action, throwing herself at McGonagall with all the physical power her exhausted body could muster. Amid his professor's astonished shouts, Harry sprinted for the door.

He never made it.

In fact, he never even heard Albus's amused voice mutter "stupefy." All he knew was the helplessness of being unable to move a muscle as he heard Albus Dumbledore walk towards him. He was also dimly aware that Hermione must have lapsed back into unconsciousness as soon as he was ensnared by Dumbledore's spell, since he could no longer feel the slight tug of the spell on his concentration, or hear Hermione's struggles.

But all that remained foremost in his mind was a sense of despair, quickly being hedged in by panic. This was it. After all the years of dodging death and the annihilation of the entire wizarding world by Lord Voldemort, he was going to be made to forget about his best friend. He was going to abandon her. And for some reason, that seemed worse than a thousand screaming bouts of the Cruciatus' under Voldemort's wand. Then the man, whose betrayal to Harry ran deeper than either would ever know, spoke.

"Tsk, tsk, Harry. Two Unforgivables in a day. What would the Ministry think of that? I know Rita Skeeter would just have a field day with it. Don't you agree?"

Harry could hear Dumbledore moving behind him, but the old man remained out of his line of sight, which only made it harder to keep from capitulating to his fear. He wanted to scream, just as Hermione had done, just scream and keep on screaming and block out the world for as long as you have breath in your lungs, but the spell holding him motionless prevented any such act.

"In fact, I must admit to being surprised by your unprecedented act of self- preservation just now. I daresay I would have thought you'd try to stun Minerva and myself before carting Miss Granger off to safety. As it is, do you know what you've shown me, Mr. Potter?" Harry could feel the Headmaster's warm breath on his cheek and realized that the old man must be mere inches away from his face. It made him want to whimper. Dumbledore just continued to talk, relentlessly breaking down Harry's defenses.

"It shows me that you're not the Boy Wonder that everyone believes you to be. You, Harry Potter, were willing to sacrifice your best friend to save your own skin. I'd say that you're no better than Voldemort, but that's not quite true. You see, Voldemort uses everyone, and makes them well aware of that fact. He would never stab his best friend in the back because he would never allow anyone close enough to have a best friend."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Although I really must admit to that being my fault. What can I say? I made a mistake. But Tom was such a vital youth, so full of life and Gryffindor qualities, that I couldn't quite help myself. Next thing I know, he's storming out of my office on the night before his graduation saying that he'll use any means necessary to stop me from torturing and raping future generations. He actually used the word 'rape,' can you believe it? As if my seduction was done against his will! He welcomed it, and perhaps that's why he hated me. It had been his one pride that no matter what his heritage, no matter how he was ridiculed for it, he'd always known that he was as straight as a ruler. I think that when I upset that delicate balance, I may have destroyed his mind," Albus confided.

"Yes, Albus," Minerva commented with a smile in her voice. "You did an excellent job with young Tom. I didn't need to find a familiar for those four years, as I was quite satisfied vicariously. It was almost more delicious to simply watch the decay of a young mind than to cause it."

Harry felt sick. Dumbledore had created Voldemort? Dumbledore had created the man who killed his parents? It was Dumbledore's fault? All of it? Cedric Diggory and Bertha Jorkins and that one old muggle who'd climbed out of the end of Voldemort's wand . . . the headmaster of Hogwarts was responsible for all of that?

"I know this may be rather hard for you to grasp, Harry," crooned Dumbledore into his ear. "But we mustn't be getting off of the subject now. It was a very serious thing that you did to Hermione, and I think that you need to be shown just what it was like for her."

Harry whimpered, unable to help himself.

"Ah yes, the spell is beginning to wear off. Just in time. You see, I don't know if you've ever truly felt the effects of the Imperious curse. I know Tom attempted to subject you to it last spring, but Imperious relies heavily on mental stamina, and his mind-pardon the pun-always was rather "riddled" with weaknesses. One of the downsides to being truly insane, you understand. The same goes for young master Crouch. Imperious in the hands of a strong wizard is quite literally impossible to resist, and can be used in far more subtle ways that a simple coercion of physical motion. I could probably turn a Slytherin into a Gryffindor. I've never tested it, although I did turn our brave young Tom into as conniving and cold-hearted a Slytherin as you can get. I must say, I found it quite amusing: The heir of Salazar, a Gryffindor Prefect. Quite the irony there, hm?

"But oh yes, as I was saying. I think that you need to experience firsthand what you just put Hermione through, Harry," Dumbledore murmured pleasantly. "Minerva, dear, if you could please wake Ms. Granger up; I think that her participation in this will be most welcome."

Harry heard McGonagall mutter "enervate," and then Dumbledore stepped into view for the first time since Harry had been frozen. The wrinkled old Headmaster smiled benignly at him and then raised his wand and said softly, "Imperio."

A/N: Sorry about the cliffhanger, but what happens next is kinda big and deserves its own chapter. Thanks again to all my reviewers and my semi- beta (I basically just bounce ideas off her, my computer already has spellcheck), your support is very appreciated! 'Til next time! ^_^