Part Two: The Balance Tipped

Chapter 5 - Voldemort's Power

"Voldemort, I tire of having these conversations with you. Harry Potter will come to you. You must not seek him out!"

"Why not?" Voldemort asked with a drawling voice.

"Because of my plans you fool! They must not conflict!"

"You said I would know your plans soon. Where are there? What are there? I begin to wonder if there really are any plans."

"You will not tell me what to do! This is more than good and evil Lord Voldemort. This is balance. Remember what I told you. There is only power and those too weak to seek it."

"Do you mind telling me exactly who you are?" Voldemort pressed, but didn't quite hide his irritation in his voice.

"I am nothing to you. I am a balance-keeper Voldemort. You are a pawn. I am the King!"

"Yet the King cannot move, but one space at a time," Voldemort said, amazed at what he was saying.

"That's how I work. Slowly," the voice was not more than a whisper. "You have no idea the complexities of my plan. You are a pawn."

"Yes My Lord. I do not appreciate being a pawn." Voldemort said this abruptly. How dare this common-,! But no, this figure wasn't common. He was an evil so great that nobody could possibly imagine. Yet he still underestimated Voldemort. "I am better than that. I am a Master!"

"Really? Voldemort," he started and withdrew a green emerald from his cloak, "you must learn your place."

Voldemort gasped. If he dropped that! "NO!" he said.

"Your powers will diminish," The Cloaked Figure said with no hint of sneering. "You will fade away, a mere shadow and thought. Nobody will remember you. The fear you inspire, the terror, will be gone. You will be a lonely outcast until time shatters the Earth, a shadow of what could have been," after the speech was over the Cloaked Figure, shifted his feet and lowered his voice, "Vivificus Auctorita Voldemort."

The emerald swayed in his hands. "I could drop it."

The crystal gave him strength. It was his very being! It was how he was so powerful today! With the breaking of that crystal, all would be lost. Voldemort shuddered. "Yes My Lord." He was the pawn once again.

"Come on! Open UP!" Harry screamed at the gargoyle. It did not care that he was in a torment. It did not care that Dumbledore would want to see him. He was unmoving, sneering down at him.

Harry sighed. "Do you want me to guess? Is that it? Fine." Harry glared at the stone face above him.

"Chocolate Frog. Lemon-drop. Sherbert Lemon! Oh just move well you?" He couldn't think of anything else. He threw himself at the door in frustration.

"Acid Pop," said a small voice behind him. Immediately the door behind him began to move, causing him to slide back into the room.

Harry turned to see who had said the password. It was a small boy, probably in his second or third year. "How did you-?"

"I've been up there," he said simply. He looked around and said slowly, "I've always-,"

Harry stood up. "Look I have to talk to Professor Dumbledore, so move," he said irritably. It was rude since after all, the kid had opened the door for him. The boy did not seem to notice. He just shrugged his shoulders and walked off.

"Stupid kids," he said to himself as he charged up the stairs.

When he opened the door Professor Dumbledore looked up and said, "Minerva if I could just-," and then his eyes found Harry. He just let out a small, "ah," very gravely.

Harry just sat down. How many times had he been in this chair?

Harry couldn't stand the silence any longer, "I killed them," he said simply. He could not wait any longer; he had to let it out. He could not have bared any pretense.

Dumbledore looked down, and then stood up. He turned away from Harry and faced the window. Then he sighed. "I know Harry. I know."

Harry looked at Dumbledore, too ashamed to speak. Dumbledore looked out the window, past Ravenclaws Quidditch team practice, past the Forbidden Forest, to the rapidly setting sun.

"Too often Harry, I have been able to conjure up magic words to comfort you. Right now, I am afraid I cannot do that. I don't have any words to say."

Harry looked away.

"Harry, you are a man now. I am not angry with you. Nor am I disappointed. I have known since you were born, that one day, you would have to be a murderer. I've lived with that, and come to terms with it."

This was such a profound statement that Harry realized he was speaking the truth.

"I am not disappointed, yet I am sad that you have to have this burden. You must be the one to murder Voldemort. You must be the one to as-," but he trailed off, not knowing what else to say. Harry had a feeling there was more to it than that, but Harry did not press the matter.

"Professor, I just can't help but feel, that I can't kill Voldemort. How can I be a murderer?"

"Harry, you already are," Dumbledore said sharply.

Harry looked away and regrouped his thoughts. "How can I kill Voldemort in cold blood? I lost control of my emotions at the platform, yet I still feel remorseful. How can I kill and live with it?"

"Harry. Are you telling me that you would feel fine about murdering Death Eaters in a blind rage and yet you can't kill Voldemort in cold blood?"

Harry shook his head, "No I just-,"

Dumbledore cut him off, "Murder is murder Harry. Never forget that."

Something about the way he said that gave Harry a start. Some double meaning sent shivers into Harry's spine. Harry looked at Dumbledore, and couldn't quite believe that it was Dumbledore who said something that way. Maybe Harry was just imagining things.

He wanted to respond, but his mouth was too dry. Dumbledore did not wait.

"Harry, if you feel you cannot kill Voldemort, just remember all those that Voldemort will kill if you don't kill him."

"Are you telling me that his murders, Voldemort's victims' blood will be on my hands?" Harry shook his head. This was the worst thing he had ever heard Dumbledore say.

"It his his hands Dumbledore!" Harry said, a fire erupting in him. "Only Voldemort is responsible for Voldemort's actions."

Dumbledore sighed. Then he said, "Congratulations Harry. You've passed the test."

"What are you talking about?"

"You said exactly the right thing."

"But-,"

"Harry, remember what I told you in first year. Someone must stand up to him. And that someone must be you," Dumbledore sighed. "Harry, it pains me to say this, but I fear that I must."

Harry looked at him.

"Put aside your morals. Do what you were born to do." It was not said sharply, but with only with a hint of encouragement.

Harry realized it. Dumbledore had coddled him since first year. He was not a child anymore. He was a man. He had responsibilities that he had to do, and Dumbledore was encouraging him.

The thought made him shiver, yet he did not sense any evil from it, but Dumbledore was encouraging him to kill.

Harry left Dumbledore's office that day feeling a worse than when he entered. Dumbledore had always radiated strength, but he had changed. Was that always true though?

Ever since his first year, Harry had always taken for granted that Dumbledore would always be there to talk to him, always be able lead Harry in the right direction. Now though, something had changed. Harry understood then, that Dumbledore had not changed, he, Harry, had changed. He now no longer liked Dumbledore's advice. In a way, Dumbledore never had a problem with Harry fighting. It was almost as if he encouraged violence!

No, he never went that far. He just never said anything about it, because any violence Harry had committed was in defense. Now, though, Harry had to be the aggressor. He could no longer wait for Voldemort to kill him; he had to try to seek Voldemort out.

Nevertheless, something in the back of his mind said that he wouldn't. He could never seek someone out to kill someone. It was just against everything he had been standing for lately.

Something knocked him down sharply. He looked up and saw Professor McGonagall rushing past. She had skidded around a corner and accidentally smacked him in the back of the head.

"Sorry Potter, but you should come with me."

"Great. I can hardly wait to find out why," Harry muttered. He still followed her down the hallway all the same.

They passed a portrait in the halls that said to them, "Hey there no running!"

"Stow it you," McGonagall said shortly.

Harry caught his name out of the corner of their eye that read:

Stewie the Strict. Headmaster 1543-1572.

He heard Stewie the Strict distinctly say something along the lines of, "Well I never! The staff was never rude when I-," but his voice was drowned out as they passed him.

When they finally reached their destination, which turned out to be Snape's dungeon office, McGonagall said, "I brought Potter as well."

Harry turned to see Snape's lips curl as he said, "Wonderful," mock-happily. Harry just stared back at him. He was not a student anymore. He could not deduct points, thus losing his power. Harry, however, was not about to sink to his level by snapping back. He just nodded curtly and took a seat at the table.

"If thought I told you that if I ever caught you in this office I would have you expelled," Snape murmured so McGonagall could not hear him. Harry stared at him incredulously. Snape only turned away. It was not as if he was sneaking around in the middle of the night. Moreover, he wasn't even a student anymore. McGonagall brought him here!

It was probably just Snape being good-old happy Snape again.

"Sour grapes," Harry thought to himself. He even allowed himself to smirk a bit in Snape's direction. Snape's face went red, but he did not dare say anything in front of McGonagall.

"What are we doing here anyway?"

"We're waiting for Dumbledore Potter," Snape replied, "as well as a few other members of the Order." He paused. "For once will you please keep that overly-large...," he trailed off as he caught one of the worse glares McGonagall had ever thrown.

He started again, "Just try to stop asking the obvious please Potter," he said very friendly. Harry laughed aloud. McGonagall did not seem to notice or care, but Snape threw daggers. For once though, he shut his mouth.

"Severs you really crack me up," Harry said still chuckling. He was not laughing for any reason, just purposely antagonizing Snape.

After several minutes they heard a loud snap as several Order members appeared in Snape's office. Harry saw a very grungy-looking wizard appear in front, whom he recognized as Mundungus "Dung" Fletcher. To his right and back, he thought he saw Nymphadora Tonk's bubble-gum hair sticking from behind Mundungus's hat. Behind Mundungus on the other side was the ever-paranoid Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody. Completely hidden from view, was Harry's Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher in third year, Remus Lupin. Harry would not have known he was there except for the jovial, "How are you Harry?" he called out as he appeared.

"Just fine Remus," Harry replied, wishing he could believe it.

"Well obviously you're not."

"Well he is in Snape's dungeon," Moody said, trying to cheer Harry up.

Snape looked at him, "Excuse me Alastor, but if you don't feel comfortable you can just leave."

"Believe me Snape, I would if I could."

"That is enough," said a strong powerful voice behind them. Normally, Harry would have felt strength from Dumbledore, but after his conversation with him, he felt only uncertainty. It wasn't because Dumbledore was acting different, but because he had a different understanding of Dumbledore's words.

"Thank god you're here," Tonks said. "We need to really hurry now."

"Don't worry Ms. Nymphadora," Tonks cringed at this, "but we still have an hour or so to get there."

After a few moments of silence, Harry said, "Would anyone mind telling me what's going on?"

"Well Harry, you see we've been making a plan for awhile," Lupin said.

"What is it," Harry asked. They gave nervous glances at him. Harry knew why. They feared that he would disapprove of whatever they were doing. "Just tell me," Harry said. "I swear if I don't agree with it, you won't hear a word about," he clapped his hands together as though it was settled. "Now, what's this about?"

When the rest of them were silent, Lupin stepped up. "Harry, we're going to ambush several Death Eaters."

"How?" Harry asked, though he was already growing uneasy with this.

"St. Mungo's," Snape said sharply.

"An ambush Harry," Lupin said.

"Where are the patients? Harry asked out of curiosity.

"They have been moved elsewhere so we won't endanger any civilians," Dumbledore said.

Harry felt a slap of annoyance. They just seemed so brutal to him. Why was killing a Death Eater different from killing a civilian? He opened his mouth to retort, but bit his tongue. He had promised not to say anything.

"Do you have a problem with that Potter?" Snape spat.

"Well, yes," he admitted, but Snape's look of triumph forced him to continue, "but like I said, I won't stop you from going."

"That is good, because nobody here wants to hear your little dilemma about aggression and some-such nonsense."

"Nobody expected you to have any qualms about killing someone," Moody shot back.

"And why would nobody expect that?" Snape asked coldly.

Moody did not answer, but everyone knew what he was getting at. Snape the Death-Eater.

"Enough. Voldemort will be attacking St. Mungo's in forty-five minutes!" Dumbledore said urgently. "We must be prepared!"

"My thoughts exactly," Moody said. "As I've always said 'Constant Vigilance!'"

With that then, they all disapparated out of the blackness of Snape's office.