Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, or the world that they live
in. Anything and everything belongs to Ms. J. K. Rowling.
Betrayal
Harry stared at the wand that was pointing at him in disbelief. It must be a misunderstanding, he couldn't be working for Voldemort, he couldn't be! Slowly, he looked up at the wands owner. "Professor?"
There was no twinkle in Dumbledore's gaze, no small smile on his lips. Dumbledore stared coldly down at the boy. "Tom has requested to see you, Harry." He said, his wand still pointing at Harry's chest. Harry's own wand was in Dumbledore's other hand, having just been disarmed a moment ago.
Harry gaped at him, his mouth hanging open. Dumbledore couldn't be working for him. He was Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts, the leader of the Order of the Phoenix; the man who openly challenged Voldemort, and fought to defeat him. "How-? Y-you-" he stuttered, and then it dawned on him: the Imperious curse. Of course, Dumbledore must be under the Imperious curse. Harry searched the Professor's face, looking for any clue that Dumbledore was not acting on his own.
Dumbledore smiled a cold smile. "I know what you are thinking Harry, and no. I am not under the Imperious curse. You see, for years people have been saying that Voldemort would never touch this school because I am the one person he fears. It's not true. Oh, he fears me," he added at the look on Harry's face. "But not so much that he wouldn't try to take this school if he wanted to. The fact is, Tom Riddle and I have...an arrangement."
"You work for Voldemort." Harry said softly, still not believing it.
"I do not work for Tom Riddle." He spat. Harry backed away, and into Dumbledore's desk; the man looked furious. He wore the same expression he did on the night that Voldemort came back, when he had been staring down at the imposter of Mad-Eye Moody. Harry was sure he was going to curse him, however, Dumbledore just placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, and pushed him into a chair. Long, snakelike cords appeared and wrapped themselves around Harry, tying him to the chair. Harry was reminded forcefully of the chair he saw in Dumbledore's penisieve.
Dumbledore looked much calmer as her placed himself in the chair behind his desk, across from Harry. "I would do anything to protect this school, Harry. Anything. Years ago, when Tom Riddle had reappeared in the world as Lord Voldemort, I had made a decision. If it would keep Hogwarts from harm, I would join him. Of course, I would not help him in the things he did," Dumbledore made a face of distaste. "But I would not stand in his way."
Harry remembered something from his fifth year. He, Ron and Hermione had been talking about Snape in the Gryffindor common room. Ron had said Snape was working for Voldemort, But Hermione had shook her head, saying that Dumbledore knew the reason he was not.
Dumbledore trusts him, and if we cant trust Dumbledore, we can't trust anyone.
Harry shook his head. There must be some kind of mistake, Dumbledore would never betray them. "But Professor, you saved me from Crouch in my fourth year..." his voice was pleading, begging for this to be a reason what Dumbledore said to be a lie.
"It was Professor Snape, who saw that Crouch had left with you. It was he, not I, who realized who he really was and led the way to save you."
Harry's mouth hung open. Snape had saved him? Then could it be... "But in the Department of Mysterious!" Harry yelled, panicking now. "You tried to fight Voldemort! And when he tried to possess me, you didn't-"
"I didn't kill you because it would kill Voldemort. It was brilliant what he did, possessing you to give me an excuse to not try and kill him. He was always a brilliant one, Tom. Even in school..." A fond smile passed Dumbledore's lips.
"But my first and second year," Harry whispered. "The Sorcerer's Stone, the chamber of secrets..."
"All of which you did on your own. If you would notice, I was ah... conveniently absent both those times."
"And Sirius? When you helped me and Hermione, so he wouldn't be given the kiss..." Harry was afraid of the answer. If Dumbledore was working with Voldemort, and he saved Sirius, does that mean that Sirius had been working for him too?
"I always liked Sirius. Such a wonderful wizard, he was, with exceptional abilities in magic. Not many people could become an animugus at the age he did. And to be able to change in Azkaban..." Dumbledore shook his head in amazement. "Well, I helped you simply because I wanted to."
Harry sighed in relief. His godfather was a good man. He had always remained on the side opposing Voldemort. But Harry's relief did not last long. Everything Dumbledore said made sense...that meant that he must have really been working with Voldemort, all this time. Harry looked wildly around the room, hoping to find something to help him escape, or to help him, help him do something. But all the occupants were gone from there paintings, and even Fawkes was missing from his perch.
"Well, Harry," He looked back at Dumbledore, who was now standing and looking down at his pocket watch. "I believe we have run out of time. It's time to get going I'm afraid." His tone was light, as if they were merely going to the train station or Diagon Ally. Harry clenched his fist in anger. He never thought he would hate this man before him, but at this moment, he did hate him.
Dumbledore grabbed a paperweight from his desk and held his wand above it. "Portus," he muttered. It glowed blue for a moment, then returned once again to its natural color. Dumbledore walked around his desk and toward Harry, the newly made portkey still in his hand. He waved his wand over Harry, and the cords began to move again, snaking themselves around him so that he was no longer tied to the chair, yet still bound. Dumbledore bent down, and somehow managed to get one of Harry's hands free from the cords. He then placed the port-key in it, so that he and Dumbledore each were holding on to one side of the silver ball. "On three Harry." He said.
Harry looked around the room again, desperate for anything that would stop him from leaving this room. His wand, it lay on Dumbledore's desk. "One..." he heard Dumbledore saying.
If only there was some way he could get his wand.
"Two.."
Hermione had once told him that some wizards could do spells without there wands. If only he could do that now, he could do a summoning charm to get his wand...
"Three."
Harry felt the familiar jerk behind his navel. Just like he did the night of the third task. And he had a horrible feeling he was going to be back there, at that graveyard...
Harry landed hard on his back. He opened his eyes and looked around him. He wasn't in the graveyard; instead he was in a large, fire lit room. He couldn't see anyone else besides Dumbledore, who was standing above him. The old man did not seem to notice Harry, he was staring at the other end of the room, where Harry could not see.
"Ahh... Albus," said a high cruel voice. Harry's scar seared with pain. "You are just in time. Thank you for escorting our special guest here. But we cannot have out guest lying on the floor. No, that will not do."
Harry was suddenly jerked roughly to his feet by his collar. When he turned his head to see who pulled him up he looked into the smirking face of Bellatrix Lestrange.
"Hello Potter." She said, before she laughed at the look of hatred on Harry's face. She roughly turned Harry around to face the opposite direction.
Voldemort was sitting in an armchair by the fireplace, Malfoy and Snape on either side of him. Only Snape looked surprised to see them. His mouth was hanging slightly open and he kept looking from Dumbledore to Harry.
Voldemort looked at Harry with a triumphant smile on his face. "Hello Harry. How nice to see you again. I have been trying to have you in my company for a while now. But alas, every attempt I made failed. So, I called upon an old alliance." His smile grew wider as he looked at Dumbledore.
Harry glared at Voldemort. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Snape inch away from Voldemort, his wand clutched in his hand. His shock seemed to have worn off, and he was alert and ready.
"I was beginning to doubt whether our alliance still stood," Voldemort said softly, still looking at Dumbledore. "But now I see they are as strong as ever. For, not only have you given me the thing I have sought fifteen years," he waved a hand at Harry. "But, you have also warned me of a spy hiding in my group of loyal followers."
At this he nodded to Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange. Swiftly, they advanced on Snape. Lestrange disarmed him and Malfoy grabbed his arms and pulled them behind his back.
"Have fun Bella." Voldemort told Lestrange.
She grinned, pointing her wand at Snape's chest. "Crucio!"
Harry watched as Snape's perfect control shattered, and he began to scream, twitching madly in Malfoy's grip. Lestrange didn't let up. She never released Snape, to gloat, as Harry expected she would. She merely stared down at the writhing figure, a twisted smile on her lips.
Voldemort watched them for a few minutes then stood up, and walked toward Harry. "Now, Harry," he said, raising his voice so he could be heard over the screams, "There is no way you will escape."
As Voldemort pulled out his wand and pointed it at his chest, Harry looked at Dumbledore. The man he once trusted with his life stared down at him, his expression unreadable. Harry realized that if the prophecy was true, Dumbledore had not only betrayed him, and handed him to Lord Voldemort, but he had handed over the entire wizarding world.
Harry looked back at Voldemort, who smile triumphantly once again.
"Avada Kedavra."
Betrayal
Harry stared at the wand that was pointing at him in disbelief. It must be a misunderstanding, he couldn't be working for Voldemort, he couldn't be! Slowly, he looked up at the wands owner. "Professor?"
There was no twinkle in Dumbledore's gaze, no small smile on his lips. Dumbledore stared coldly down at the boy. "Tom has requested to see you, Harry." He said, his wand still pointing at Harry's chest. Harry's own wand was in Dumbledore's other hand, having just been disarmed a moment ago.
Harry gaped at him, his mouth hanging open. Dumbledore couldn't be working for him. He was Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts, the leader of the Order of the Phoenix; the man who openly challenged Voldemort, and fought to defeat him. "How-? Y-you-" he stuttered, and then it dawned on him: the Imperious curse. Of course, Dumbledore must be under the Imperious curse. Harry searched the Professor's face, looking for any clue that Dumbledore was not acting on his own.
Dumbledore smiled a cold smile. "I know what you are thinking Harry, and no. I am not under the Imperious curse. You see, for years people have been saying that Voldemort would never touch this school because I am the one person he fears. It's not true. Oh, he fears me," he added at the look on Harry's face. "But not so much that he wouldn't try to take this school if he wanted to. The fact is, Tom Riddle and I have...an arrangement."
"You work for Voldemort." Harry said softly, still not believing it.
"I do not work for Tom Riddle." He spat. Harry backed away, and into Dumbledore's desk; the man looked furious. He wore the same expression he did on the night that Voldemort came back, when he had been staring down at the imposter of Mad-Eye Moody. Harry was sure he was going to curse him, however, Dumbledore just placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, and pushed him into a chair. Long, snakelike cords appeared and wrapped themselves around Harry, tying him to the chair. Harry was reminded forcefully of the chair he saw in Dumbledore's penisieve.
Dumbledore looked much calmer as her placed himself in the chair behind his desk, across from Harry. "I would do anything to protect this school, Harry. Anything. Years ago, when Tom Riddle had reappeared in the world as Lord Voldemort, I had made a decision. If it would keep Hogwarts from harm, I would join him. Of course, I would not help him in the things he did," Dumbledore made a face of distaste. "But I would not stand in his way."
Harry remembered something from his fifth year. He, Ron and Hermione had been talking about Snape in the Gryffindor common room. Ron had said Snape was working for Voldemort, But Hermione had shook her head, saying that Dumbledore knew the reason he was not.
Dumbledore trusts him, and if we cant trust Dumbledore, we can't trust anyone.
Harry shook his head. There must be some kind of mistake, Dumbledore would never betray them. "But Professor, you saved me from Crouch in my fourth year..." his voice was pleading, begging for this to be a reason what Dumbledore said to be a lie.
"It was Professor Snape, who saw that Crouch had left with you. It was he, not I, who realized who he really was and led the way to save you."
Harry's mouth hung open. Snape had saved him? Then could it be... "But in the Department of Mysterious!" Harry yelled, panicking now. "You tried to fight Voldemort! And when he tried to possess me, you didn't-"
"I didn't kill you because it would kill Voldemort. It was brilliant what he did, possessing you to give me an excuse to not try and kill him. He was always a brilliant one, Tom. Even in school..." A fond smile passed Dumbledore's lips.
"But my first and second year," Harry whispered. "The Sorcerer's Stone, the chamber of secrets..."
"All of which you did on your own. If you would notice, I was ah... conveniently absent both those times."
"And Sirius? When you helped me and Hermione, so he wouldn't be given the kiss..." Harry was afraid of the answer. If Dumbledore was working with Voldemort, and he saved Sirius, does that mean that Sirius had been working for him too?
"I always liked Sirius. Such a wonderful wizard, he was, with exceptional abilities in magic. Not many people could become an animugus at the age he did. And to be able to change in Azkaban..." Dumbledore shook his head in amazement. "Well, I helped you simply because I wanted to."
Harry sighed in relief. His godfather was a good man. He had always remained on the side opposing Voldemort. But Harry's relief did not last long. Everything Dumbledore said made sense...that meant that he must have really been working with Voldemort, all this time. Harry looked wildly around the room, hoping to find something to help him escape, or to help him, help him do something. But all the occupants were gone from there paintings, and even Fawkes was missing from his perch.
"Well, Harry," He looked back at Dumbledore, who was now standing and looking down at his pocket watch. "I believe we have run out of time. It's time to get going I'm afraid." His tone was light, as if they were merely going to the train station or Diagon Ally. Harry clenched his fist in anger. He never thought he would hate this man before him, but at this moment, he did hate him.
Dumbledore grabbed a paperweight from his desk and held his wand above it. "Portus," he muttered. It glowed blue for a moment, then returned once again to its natural color. Dumbledore walked around his desk and toward Harry, the newly made portkey still in his hand. He waved his wand over Harry, and the cords began to move again, snaking themselves around him so that he was no longer tied to the chair, yet still bound. Dumbledore bent down, and somehow managed to get one of Harry's hands free from the cords. He then placed the port-key in it, so that he and Dumbledore each were holding on to one side of the silver ball. "On three Harry." He said.
Harry looked around the room again, desperate for anything that would stop him from leaving this room. His wand, it lay on Dumbledore's desk. "One..." he heard Dumbledore saying.
If only there was some way he could get his wand.
"Two.."
Hermione had once told him that some wizards could do spells without there wands. If only he could do that now, he could do a summoning charm to get his wand...
"Three."
Harry felt the familiar jerk behind his navel. Just like he did the night of the third task. And he had a horrible feeling he was going to be back there, at that graveyard...
Harry landed hard on his back. He opened his eyes and looked around him. He wasn't in the graveyard; instead he was in a large, fire lit room. He couldn't see anyone else besides Dumbledore, who was standing above him. The old man did not seem to notice Harry, he was staring at the other end of the room, where Harry could not see.
"Ahh... Albus," said a high cruel voice. Harry's scar seared with pain. "You are just in time. Thank you for escorting our special guest here. But we cannot have out guest lying on the floor. No, that will not do."
Harry was suddenly jerked roughly to his feet by his collar. When he turned his head to see who pulled him up he looked into the smirking face of Bellatrix Lestrange.
"Hello Potter." She said, before she laughed at the look of hatred on Harry's face. She roughly turned Harry around to face the opposite direction.
Voldemort was sitting in an armchair by the fireplace, Malfoy and Snape on either side of him. Only Snape looked surprised to see them. His mouth was hanging slightly open and he kept looking from Dumbledore to Harry.
Voldemort looked at Harry with a triumphant smile on his face. "Hello Harry. How nice to see you again. I have been trying to have you in my company for a while now. But alas, every attempt I made failed. So, I called upon an old alliance." His smile grew wider as he looked at Dumbledore.
Harry glared at Voldemort. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Snape inch away from Voldemort, his wand clutched in his hand. His shock seemed to have worn off, and he was alert and ready.
"I was beginning to doubt whether our alliance still stood," Voldemort said softly, still looking at Dumbledore. "But now I see they are as strong as ever. For, not only have you given me the thing I have sought fifteen years," he waved a hand at Harry. "But, you have also warned me of a spy hiding in my group of loyal followers."
At this he nodded to Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange. Swiftly, they advanced on Snape. Lestrange disarmed him and Malfoy grabbed his arms and pulled them behind his back.
"Have fun Bella." Voldemort told Lestrange.
She grinned, pointing her wand at Snape's chest. "Crucio!"
Harry watched as Snape's perfect control shattered, and he began to scream, twitching madly in Malfoy's grip. Lestrange didn't let up. She never released Snape, to gloat, as Harry expected she would. She merely stared down at the writhing figure, a twisted smile on her lips.
Voldemort watched them for a few minutes then stood up, and walked toward Harry. "Now, Harry," he said, raising his voice so he could be heard over the screams, "There is no way you will escape."
As Voldemort pulled out his wand and pointed it at his chest, Harry looked at Dumbledore. The man he once trusted with his life stared down at him, his expression unreadable. Harry realized that if the prophecy was true, Dumbledore had not only betrayed him, and handed him to Lord Voldemort, but he had handed over the entire wizarding world.
Harry looked back at Voldemort, who smile triumphantly once again.
"Avada Kedavra."