Overdue

Harry Potter took in the Headmaster's office. It was superficially different from the last time he had visited, but it was still the nexus of the power of Hogwarts, and was still a place feared by all school miscreants (excepting those following in the footsteps of the Marauders, of course.)

"Headmaster Dumbledore," he said. "I have some questions I would like answered."

"Of course, my boy," answered the old man. "I am at your disposal."

Harry made himself comfortable in a chair along the wall, and Dumbledore moved to be within an easy conversational range.

"Tell me," began Harry, "about your 'Greater Good' and what was behind your actions during the rise of Voldemort. Both rises," he added.

Dumbledore sat and began to spin his customary web of words, in a measured calm voice that lulled in equal measure to informing. "We know that this life is a … prelude. Souls exist – this is established fact." Harry nodded – this established fact had caused him several headaches over the years. Dumbledore went on, "There is more to come after our experiences in this earthly world have ended. This is also established fact. And while we do not truly know what comes next, we are quite certain that our unending existence is strongly … influenced, shall we say, by the moral dimension of our acts in our earth lives. In short, our eternity is decided by our brief span of life. The event of death merely marks our passing into the next great adventure.

"That being the case, our lives here must be acted with an eye toward that eternal end, and thus, the greatest good that can be created is therefore turning an individual back toward the light, so that their afterlife may be a reward rather than a punishment. An innocent's death is not a cause to mourn, as they are merely reaping the consequences of a blameless life. It is the death of the guilty – an ending of the chance to turn away from their darkness – that is a cause to truly mourn.

"Hence, my actions in protecting the lives of the wicked and misled were only to allow them the opportunity to amend their ways, to take advantage of the change that mortality offers."

Dumbledore sat contentedly in the assurance that his motives and reasoning were unassailable.

Harry was about to prove him … incorrect.

"Did you ever see any evidence that your actions actually changed a person's choices? Or did they simply take advantage of your endless gullibility and forbearance?"

Albus furrowed his brow. "Harry, you have only to look at Professor Snape's life to see how to offer of a second chance can be instrumental in transforming a life of evil into one devoted to the Greater Good!"

Harry took no note of the triumph in Albus' voice, and quietly asked, "Please name a second individual that you would describe as a success."

Albus frowned, and was silent.

"Come, now, Professor … you believe that offering second chances to offending lawbreakers who have not even indicated that they want one is the moral thing to do. Do you have any examples other than Snape, of where your policy bore anything close to good results?"

At last Albus murmured, "I am afraid not."

Harry briskly responded, "So in the overwhelming majority of cases, your policy freed known offenders into society to continue to wreak havoc and destruction. If we use them as evidence of the outcome of your policies, we have a near perfect record of how your policies produce the exact opposite of the redemption you sought."

At Albus' hummed inquiry, Harry elaborated, "Lawbreakers that became more hardened and more devoted to criminal activity, rather than renouncing their ways and supporting the law and community." The acknowledging hum was resigned and reminded Harry of a disappointed R2D2.

Briskly, Harry leaned forward and confronted his old mentor. "And I'm sure that you have not taken this opportunity to question Professor Snape about the motivations and reasoning behind his actions. Let's do that now, shall we?"

Albus looked around, startled.

Harry smiled a bit unkindly and added, "And we both know that Professor Snape is available here in your office, correct? He was always here whenever I showed up before …"

The form of the potions professor began to be visible in the unlit gloom outside of the bright conversational area in the Headmaster's office, backlit by the portraits of headmasters past.

"Potter," he sneered.

"Professor Snape," Harry responded. Purely on the basis of manners, Harry was coming off as the more mature and reasonable one, and the look in Severus' eye indicated that he was fully aware of that. It also indicated that public perception was irrelevant, here. Hatred of James Potter was one of the guiding facets of Snape's character, after all.

"Mr. Snape, please tell me why you were so hard on students in your classes."

He sneered, quite well, actually – but then, it wasn't as if he didn't have an astounding amount of practice. "I wasn't hard on all of them. Just the dunderheads that couldn't appreciate the exact science of potions."

"How did you determine who was a dunderhead and who was not?"

"I watched them brew potions in my class."

"Did you know who would be successful before they even had one class with you?"

Snape struggled, but was finally forced to speak by the truth-telling enchantments he was under. "Yes, only purebloods had a chance to be successful."

"Hmm," mused Harry. "How did students from the Muggle world fare?"

"They were always dunderheads!" shot back Severus.

Harry smiled briefly. It wasn't clear what he was amused about, but it quickly passed, and he went on with his questioning, "So what was the proper place for a wizard or witch that didn't have magical ancestry?"

Again, Severus Snape struggled to not answer, but after an even longer struggle, was defeated. "They should be killed. None of them deserve the gift of magic."

Albus Dumbledore recoiled in horror, but kept silent, perhaps because of a spell. Harry kept his attention on Severus Snape, and followed up on that line of thought. "If you disapprove of muggle-borns, what did you want of Lily Evans?"

"I got her first! She was mine, and then that arrogant toe rag took her away form me!" Snape's bitter outburst was unexpected … and oh, so loud.

"You feel that she belonged to you?"

"I had her first!" This time, the sentence was said softly, and Harry almost had to strain to hear it. He stroked his chin thoughtfully, and then changed his line of questioning.

"Snape, did you ever reform the way that Dumbledore claims?"

Snape's face showed exactly how much respect Snape had for Dumbledore's reformation as he displayed his best sneer. "I told him what he wanted to hear. He's too stupid not to believe it."

Harry said pleasantly, "I think that puts paid to your assertion that your efforts produce good results, Albus. After we've looked at the evidence, we can see that your efforts saved exactly … nobody."

There was a period of silence; neither of Harry's school tormentors dared to speak, and Harry was evidently mulling something over.

Finally, though, Harry spoke again. "Albus Dumbledore, we know there are Wizards in America. Let's say we pick one. Are you going to be judged for any of their actions?"

"No." Dumbledore's voice was low and clearly communicated that he would rather not be answering.

"Why not?"

"Because I am only responsible for the decisions I make. I am not responsible for anyone else's decisions."

"Following that principle, if you make a decision for someone else's actions, who is responsible for that; who gets judged for it?"

Again, a response in a low, unwilling voice. "I do."

"So, with your decisions for other people's behavior … can you influence their afterlife's destination?"

This time, Albus's answer was completely unwilling, dragged out under protest, "No."

Harry clapped his hands together, smiling faintly. "So, now that you've got an accurate idea of just how successful your 'Greater Good' efforts were, I've got an item of business to discuss with you." He glanced around the office. "All of you, actually." All the portraits gave up their surreptitious listening, and began to obviously listen.

"As you might have guessed," Harry began, "I developed quite an interest in magic affecting the soul. It featured prominently in my school years, and my interest in it has only grown. And one of the curious things that I've discovered is that the basis for all of you portraits lies in soul magic."

The brighter past headmasters began edging away, including Headmaster Snape (who really didn't have anywhere to go.) Albus Dumbledore was not among their number.

"I wondered if your portraits had to have part of you embedded within, and I discovered that it was true. The final clue is that you all display volition; the ability to act independently according to your own goals. That means that your souls are embedded in some way within your portraits."

A low murmur began to pass from painting to painting.

"And since I have a complete horror of soul magic, I am going to release all of you to your eternal reward. Won't that be fun!" Harry said brightly. He was being a little overdramatic, but seeing as how these people had screwed his entire childhood over, he figured that it was justified retribution.

"You can't do that!" yelled one painting.

"Of course I can," said Harry reasonably. "In fact, since I know that the procedure to animate your portraits involves keeping your entire soul from moving on to its 'next great adventure', I have the moral obligation to end every. Last. One of you." He grinned.

"You are, to borrow a phrase, not quite alive, and not dead enough. Let's fix that."

And as Harry began his term as Headmaster, Dumbledore had one last realization in the mortal realm – that even though he truly wanted to live forever, perhaps he should have actually been a good man.

Just in case.