A/N: New chapter! Sorry it's a bit later than I've been aiming for - I'll try and get at least a couple more chapters out by Christmas.

XI. Genesis Part Three: Supreme Power

"Now I have become Death, the destroyer of worlds."

Crack.

Two cloaked men appeared by the roadside, and made their way to a prone figure sprawled facedown nearby.

"He's unconscious."

"Injuries?"

"Sustained considerable burns, cuts. Damage to bones, muscle tissue. His pulse is very weak."

"Tell them we've found him. We'll Side-Along."

One of the men lifted the figure from the dusty ground.

Crack.

And then all were gone, leaving a sheen of dust floating in midair behind them.

Ginny

"Celebrations are being seen and heard all over Wizarding Britain tonight. The Ministry has just held a special conference, at which the Minister for Magic just informed the Wizengamot and press that justice has been done to the group of resurgent Death Eaters who terrorised the nation only weeks ago, and in their most horrific act, killed over thirty people at an orphanage. The Minister was less forthcoming about the manner in which the Death Eaters were hunted down and summarily executed without trial, but there were few critics tonight, with near-universal public support of the Ministry's apparently hardline actions on ensuring a brighter, safer future…"

Nearly all of Gryffindor House were crowded around the wireless, from bright-eyed first years who on any other night would be sound asleep by now, to relieved and smiling seventh years like myself, many of us clutching drinks in celebration.

"...and now, recorded from the Wizengamot Chambers, Minister Shacklebolt: ...assembled Witches and Wizards of the Wizengamot, tonight, we have achieved justice! Let this serve as a warning to anyone who believes that we are a weakened people! We will not willing descend into another era of chaos! Together, we can both rebuild, and ensure safety that extends to all!"

Cries of support could be heard from the Wizengamot Chamber, as the commentary returned:

"That was, of course, Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, speaking not ten minutes ago to a full gathering of the Wizengamot. A live interview will follow in the morning. Now, we have several guests with us here tonight to discuss the turn of events. Firstly, what do you think about the particular brand of justice the Ministry seems to be applying here? Is it right? Is it what we fought for? Is…"

The WWN was drowned out by our noisy cheers. Tomorrow we would celebrate new hope, but tonight, tonight we were celebrating simply being alive.

Kingsley strode from the Wizengamot Chamber, the applause from the room still ringing in his ears.

Arthur walked alongside him.

"Don't get used to it."

Kingsley smirked.

"I'm not. They'll have something new to complain about in the morning."

Arthur gave a small grin in reply.

"What do we know about Harry?"

"X and Y have him. They sent word just before I addressed the Chamber," said Kingsley as he quickened his pace.

"Thank Merlin," Arthur replied in relief as they rounded a corner.

"Don't thank him yet. He's seriously injured."

"Any lasting damage?"

Kingsley paused and looked at his Deputy.

"Only time will tell."

The Aurors Falkner and O'Reilly both took seats on the comfortable leather chairs before Kingsley's desk.

"What did you find?" the Minister asked.

"The manor house sustained significant fire damage. It was magical in nature," Falkner replied.

"But we were able to find several casualties in the wreckage."

"Burned to death?"

"All killed by magic. Extensive use of the Killing Curse, but other spells were also used. Some fairly rare and powerful curses too. We'll know more with more time," said O'Reilly.

Kingsley interlocked his fingers on the desk.

"Any survivors?"

"Not one."

"I want to know what happened here and I want to know who was responsible. Do you understand?"

The two Aurors exchanged a look.

"Sir…we think it was Harry Potter," O'Reilly said.

"Do you have any proof?"

"A hunch sir. He has motive. We know that nearly all of the casualties were Death Eaters ID'd at the Orphanage."

"I need more than a hunch," Kingsley replied. "I need cold, hard, evidence."

He let out an exasperated sigh.

"Gentlemen, you both understand that the future of our world hangs in the balance. The Ministry needs to project calm and stability, not uncertainty. The Aurors were responsible for bringing these criminals to justice. Not one would be taken alive. For the safety of MLE personnel, all had to be eliminated on sight."

Both Aurors nodded.

"That will be all."

"Yes sir," they replied in unison.

Accompanied by an Unspeakable, Kingsley strode down a long hall within the Department of Mysteries. Soon, he arrived at his destination - X's office.

The Unspeakable knocked on the door.

"Sir, the Minister of Magic is here."

"Enter," came the reply.

Kingsley did, and took a seat.

"How is Harry?" he asked.

"Holding up, as I understand," X replied.

"He's still unconscious?"

"Yes. Department Healers are giving him restorative potions."

"How many Healers are assigned to him?"

"Four."

"Can they be trusted?"

"Yes."

"You're sure?"

"They took an Unbreakable Vow."

"And the Operation?"

"All they know is that Harry Potter is resting in that bed. They don't know why or how," X assured.

"But like everyone in Mysteries, they're Unspeakables. They'll figure it out, surely?" Kingsley asked.

"Hence the Vow."

There was a heavy pause in the air.

"Minister, the Healers gave me a report earlier that you should know about," said X.

"The Department of Mysteries, actually telling me something?"

"This is a security manner."

"Go on."

"Whilst examining Harry, they noticed some peculiar readings."

"Readings of what?"

"His magical energy."

"You can measure that?"

"Sort of. It's nothing St Mungo's would do, but our Healers are a bit more ah, experimental."

"Okay," said Kingsley, leaning back in his chair. "So what was different about these readings?"

"They're off the chart. Any scale we've used in prior testing simply doesn't respond."

There was a knock on the door.

"Healer Wilson, sir."

"Come in."

A wizard in the robes of a Healer walked in, and gave Kingsley a polite nod before turning to X.

"Sir, Harry Potter is in a stable condition. With the accelerants we're using, he should be back to health within a week."

"Thank you. Wilson, I was just telling the Minister about the information you gave me earlier. Would you mind telling him what you told me?"

"Of course, sir," said the Healer, taking a seat. "Minister, we've been experimenting with measuring the, ah, power, if you like, of a wizard. It's not an exact term, because it doesn't take into account a wizard's spell knowledge or their duelling ability. Nor is it entirely accurate."

"It's not an exact science. I understand."

"We've measured subjects for the last six months, and out of curiousity, we decided to test Mr Potter. And nothing conventional works. There's only one arithmetical expression that can calculate his power."

"What is it?" asked Kingsley.

"Megadeaths."

A frown crossed Kingsley's face. "Go on."

"Hypothetically, if Mr Potter - his power fully realised and assuming he didn't tire - was to attack Muggle London, he could conceivably eliminate a minimum of a thousand people an hour. That figure drastically increases when you take into account damage to infrastructure - skyscrapers, housing estates, schools - in a densely populated area," continued the Healer.

"The devastation would be on a scale scarcely imaginable."

"Unopposed by magic, Mr Potter would be able to level London in under two weeks, claiming the lives of millions."

"Merlin."

"Minister, only Albus Dumbledore and Tom Riddle would have similar readings. Voldemort's, we're guessing at, obviously. But we do have some records of Dumbledore's power."

"You said you've only been testing for six months."

"Yes, but we begun preliminary testing a while ago."

"And you tested Dumbledore?"

"Minister, who do you think gave us the idea?"

"Dumbledore set this up?"

"I know it's not something we'd expect from him - it doesn't match his psych profile - but it's true nevertheless. He first approached us after the incident at the Triwizard Tournament. After Voldemort's alleged return. He worked with us under Fudge's nose."

"What was his plan?" asked Kingsley.

"We don't know. We were just another chess piece in Dumbledore's game. He did not divulge his purpose, only the means to set up the testing."

"I wonder why…" mused Kingsley.

"Men are not made equal, Minister. The very fact that the three people in this room exist is testament to that fact."

The Minister nodded.

"Okay. Thank you, Wilson. I can, of course, count on your utmost discretion?"

"I am an Unspeakable too, sir."

"Good. That'll be all."

The Healer nodded, and left the room.

"I'm going to tell Arthur. You should tell Y. He has the right to know," said Kingsley.

"I will."

Both fell into a somber silence, then:

"Minister, do you think Harry poses a threat?"

There was a pause, then:

"…yes."

X gave a small nod.

"Do you?"

"Of course. Caution is the only prudent response."

"Merlin. Here we are, two of the most powerful men in the Wizarding World, and we're afraid of someone not yet out of his teens," remarked Kingsley.

"We should be afraid," X replied.

"For all the power we possess, his eclipses ours at a magnitude we can scarcely understand."

Harry

I opened my eyes. Stabbing pain shot through me.

I grimaced, struggling to focus my sight.

My glasses were placed on my face. X swam into view.

"You're lucky to be alive, Potter," he said, gruffly.

"You know, I think I might've heard that one before," I quipped.

X didn't look amused. Although, to this day, I don't believe he even possessed a sense of humour. I looked around at familiar surroundings. I was also bandaged head to toe in a hospital bed that had been wheeled into my regular room deep within Mysteries.

"I just don't understand, Harry. I went there with the Aurors, and, hell - even I was shocked. How, in Merlin's good name, did you manage to survive?"

"I don't know...I guess, I...just got lucky."

"Lucky? The only logical explanation for what you did is that you swallowed an entire cauldron of Felix Felicis!"

"I couldn't see them, they couldn't see me...I thought the best way to solve the problem was to aim for everything…"

"I saw. The sheer number of Curses you fired basically ripped half the Manor apart...I've only seen that sort of power from two wizards before. Dumbledore-"

"...and Voldemort," I interjected.

"Yes," he replied, his expression unreadable.

I nodded mutely.

"It stands to reason though...that you'd be like them. The Horcrux, Dumbledore's teachings...and Voldemort did mark you as his equal."

I looked up, surprised.

"Oh, I know, Potter. I have access to the prophecies, and yours I had to hear for myself. Call it professional curiosity. My point is, you have immense magical talent flowing through you. Your parents...they were exceptional people."

"You knew them?" I asked, surprised. He had never mentioned them to me. But then this was the longest conversation I'd ever had with him.

"I was a few years ahead of them at Hogwarts, but by the time I was earmarked for the Department of Mysteries, their names had made several lists of students to watch. Caused quite the row between Law Enforcement and International Magical Cooperation in their seventh year about who would get first pickings...of course, they were Head Boy and Girl, and getting either of them would've been fantastic for any Department. Of course, by the time it came to graduation, they were Dumbledore's…your mother and father were enlisted into the Order of the Phoenix, and were living on the Potter fortune."

"Add Dumbledore's influence, and your struggle against Voldemort...it's not a surprise you wielded that kind of power last night."

A vision of me screaming Avada Kedavra at a faceless horde came to my mind's eye. I swallowed.

"I don't think I could do it again," I said slowly. "I came close to losing myself back in there."

"I know the feeling."

"What's it like, being an Unspeakable?"

"It's something very few people can do. There's so much you have to let go. For example, forming friendships, families, any relationship at all is strongly discouraged. The few Unspeakables that marry usually lie to their families for years about their jobs. All aided by the Department, of course."

"I was eventually promoted to Department Head after the last one resigned - it'd come to light that he'd been close to Rockwood, who, as you know, was a spy for the Death Eaters. The Ministry didn't like that, so I got the job."

"But what is it you actually do? I mean, when you weren't part of Wrath of Merlin."

"We all study at some point - life, death, time, love…all the forces ultimately beyond magical control. Some of us come from Auror or Hit Wizard training, and those ones occasionally become spies and assassins. What is it the Muggles call it…'spooks' - we're like that."

"Like Y?"

"Yes."

I groaned. My body ached.

"How did I end up here?"

"After the Aurors got wind of what had happened, Kingsley delayed them long enough that Y and I could find you before they did. But Delaney, the Auror, apparently ignored the order. He left straight away. That's why he found you first."

"How do you know about Delaney?"

X took on a guarded expression.

"We intercepted him on his way back. He knew too much, Harry. We had no choice but to Obliviate him. He'll never work as an Auror again."

I nodded, and felt a pang of sympathy for Delaney.

"And then we found you. You'd collapsed half a mile down the road."

I nodded.

"What day is it?"

"Friday. You've been out for three days."

"Does everyone know?"

"Kingsley made an announcement the evening after. He's praising the hard work of the Auror Office and the entire MLE."

"Of course, the Aurors know that they weren't responsible, and more than a few have their suspicions about you, but Kingsley has delivered a blanket ban on them talking to anyone about it."

There was a knock on my doorframe, then Y, along with Arthur and Kingsley, strode into my room.

"He's awake!" exclaimed Y.

Arthur looked at me with a hint of awe in his expression.

"How, Harry? How'd you do it?"

"I don't know…" I replied.

Another emotion briefly flickered across Arthur's face. Could it be…fear?

I dismissed the thought as a wave of exhaustion washed over me. My eyelids drooped.

X noticed and shot a look at Kingsley.

"We'll leave you be. Get some more sleep, Harry. You need it."

They left me to my thoughts, and as I closed my eyes, flashes of the battle returned to me.

Arthur, Kingsley, X and Y returned to the central room in Operation headquarters.

"He's going to need some time to get to grips with what he's done," said Arthur.

"Don't be so sure. He seemed fairly calm when I spoke to him," X replied.

"I wonder what Dumbledore would have made of all this," said Kingsley.

"He would've hated it. Hated that Harry was part of this," Arthur said.

"Please, Dumbledore's aversion to power did not extend to Harry Potter. He knew what Harry was capable of," X said. "And don't forget that Dumbledore used Harry as a weapon against Voldemort."

"Voldemort was different. He was the darkest wizard of our time!" Arthur argued.

"His followers still want Harry dead. That hasn't changed. Their belief - Voldemort's belief - is real," X replied, his voice raised in annoyance.

"I'm aware of that. But what if we've taken it too far?"

"What do you mean?"

"He means that we made him capable of doing what he did at the Manor," said Y, joining the argument.

"He was already apart of this war," said X.

"You took a blunt object and honed him into a killing machine!" said Arthur.

"We perfected him," argued X.

"Did perfecting him involve teaching him how to use Dark Magic?"

"Only to counter Dark Magic!"

"What if the unthinkable happens? What if he turns?" Arthur said.

The question took all of them back. An uneasy silence pervaded the room.

"You're all thinking it! You can't tell me it hasn't crossed your mind!" Arthur accused.

"He won't go dark! He's Harry fucking Potter! He killed the darkest wizard of our time!" scoffed X.

"Enough!" said Kingsley, his voice raised.

"He walked into a Death Eater stronghold and systematically destroyed over thirty of them! Fuck!" shouted Arthur, ignoring Kingsley.

The unexpected expletive made them pause.

"Could you live with yourself if … if he went dark?" said Arthur to Y. "Knowing that you taught him?"

"I'm not particularly worried about the state of my soul, Arthur, if that's what you mean," said Y, looking up.

Arthur shot him a look of disgust.

"That's enough!" said Kingsley again, rising to his feet.

"You don't understand. I've know Harry a lot longer than the rest of you. You can't treat this like it's normal behaviour!" Arthur implored.

There was another heavy pause.

X looked down.

"He's right. You're right," he said, looking at Arthur. "It's unprecedented. We cannot pretend that Harry isn't dangerous. This is a victory, but we don't know the end result."

Arthur nodded in acceptance.

"So where do we go from here?"

"We need to have a measure in place to contain Harry, if necessary," X said. "Ministers, you know that we possess…"

"You don't mean…?" Arthur cut in.

"I do," said X, calmly.

"Kingsley, you cannot be seriously considering…" Arthur said, his face pale.

"I'm not. Where Harry is concerned, I will not discuss using it. It was designed for Dark Wizards. Harry is not a Dark Wizard," Kingsley interjected.

"So what do we do?" Y asked.

"There is little we can do. We wait," said Kingsley with an air of finality.

Harry

I was up.

I had conjured a set of crutches, and leant heavily on them as I made my way down the hall.

The Healers had done some incredible work. Pain that had once brought me to my knees had receded to a dull ache. My broken ribs had regrown. The slashes across my face and torso had become a criss-cross of thin red scars.

With some difficulty, I draped my Invisibility Cloak across my shoulders.

I made my way up to the streets of London. After days of being confined underground, I needed to see the sky.

Much later, X walked through the hallways of the Ministry, deep under London. Soon, he came to the Minister's Office and stuck his head through the door.

"He's back, Kingsley. Y trailed him the best he could. He only went into Muggle London for a few hours."

The Minister looked up from his work.

"Good," he nodded.

"Is that all for tonight?" asked the Unspeakable.

"X, I need to amend the Letters. What the Healer said about Harry…"

The Unspeakable, his face a mask, nodded.

"Of course. I'll make the arrangements."

The pair made their way to the headquarters of Wrath of Merlin to find Harry asleep on a couch.

Kingsley Shacklebolt looked at the jet-black haired boy, no, man, and like so many times before, wondered whether or not he was doing the right thing.

This wasn't any young man though. Harry was the Chosen One.

Kingsley extinguished the light with his wand.

"Let him rest."

Harry

There's a dream I have.

And in this dream, I don't stop.

I kill them all, the supporters, the sympathisers, the Death Eaters, those who stood idly by…

Every single person even remotely connected to Voldemort.

I shout the words of the Killing Curse until my voice is hoarse and they're all gone.

But I don't stop.

My mother and father lie dead in Godric's Hollow. Dumbledore lies dead at the foot of the Astronomy Tower. The students at Hogwarts lie dead, strewn about the ruined, burning castle. Frank and Alice Longbottom, lie confined in the closed ward, condemned to a fate many consider worse than death.

And I don't stop killing.

It's just a dream, I always tell myself.

It's just a dream.

And then I see them. My mother. My father. Sirius, Remus, Tonks, Fred, Cedric…

Harry.

Harry.

Harry.

We're still dead.

A/N: Developed by political scientists, 'megadeath' is used in quantifying the casualties of nuclear war, equal to the deaths of one million people. It is, I think, a very chilling term.

You'll find out what the 'Letters' are next chapter. Kudos to anyone who can guess!