Chapter 15: Pardon Me, Now!
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The weeks went by, and Harry snuck out of the castle to train the troops, via the tunnel that he discovered behind the statue of the one-eyed humped-backed witch. He had been exploring the castle whatever chance he got. That he asked the house elves every question he could think of to discover every tunnel, every niche, every hidden room that he could find. They were more than happy to tell them about everything that they knew. Sneaky little buggers that they were. He probably knew more about the castle than the Weasley twins did.
One Friday afternoon, he went to his lawyer's office and filed a claim to get his invisibility cloak back from the headmaster when he discovered from Sirius that that was who had it. It seemed his dad had loaned it to the man right before his parents went into hiding. Why he did that, they don't know. But Harry was bound and determined to get it back. It was the last thing that he knew of that he had from his father. He wanted it back, now.
Mr. Waters was more than happy to take on the case. He was never a big Dumbledore fan. It would be an easy case to win. This time, he was more than willing to take it to court. If it came to that. The house had been a simple case and hadn't needed legislation. This might be a bit more complicated. Or not, it depended on how hard Dumbledore fought to keep the cloak.
The week before, the training of the two groups came along rather well. The purebloods were getting upset that the half-bloods and the mudbloods were showing them up. They were working diligently to make their master/leader happy. The fact that Tom put the fear of being put under the Cruciatus Curse into the Death Eaters helped immensely. They were working harder than the Order, that was for sure. They improved faster and were much sneakier.
Rotation was set up around the graveyard. Mostly the Death Eaters and Harry's group. Because Dumbledore's group had jobs. Well, a lot of Harry's group had jobs too, but most of them were shopkeepers, so they had helpers and could take a day off here and there. The Death Eaters were mostly rich politicians and didn't work for a living, so they could watch the graveyard with ease. Those that did work took the nightshift.
So far, nothing had happened in the graveyard in Little Hangleton. But they were all waiting on tenterhooks. There was some movement, but it was minuscule. Like a person sneaking around looking at things, sizing it up. But they couldn't determine if that person was a wizard or just a yokel looking around.
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"I think we should discuss my payment before we go any further," said Harry to Dumbledore one day when they were in his office. He'd been putting it off for a while now. Now he wanted it out in the open. He wanted it in writing. He knew of the old man's plots, and he wasn't going to be caught in that net.
"Whatever do you mean?" said Dumbledore. "I thought you were over this." After all, there had been no discussion of payments for months. He thought the boy had dropped that subject. He had gotten his house back after all, and now he was suing for this invisibility cloak. He thought the boy had enough on his plate.
"Oh no. I'm still going to get paid for Old Voldy," the younger teen stated. He was going to get his due if he had to scream and shout to get everybody to hear that they were going to renege on his deal. "And you still owe me for changing Tom's direction. Don't think I did that for free."
"I have every intention of paying you what we agreed on," said the old man. He pulled out a contract that they had designed that first day and he had drawn up and gone over. He showed it to Harry who took it and was reading it over. "Your payment for Tom will be in your account by the end of the week," he added, knowing that it was necessary. He needed to keep the boy compliant.
"Well, I'm glad to hear that," said Harry, still reading the contract, making sure there was no fine print. It was in legalese and difficult to read, and he was going to have Waters go over it before he signed it, but he was going to read it here first. He cast a spell on the parchment to make sure there were no hidden words. There weren't. "What about the blanket pardon that we were promised?" He noticed there was no mention of it on there. He would not sign it without one.
"I have talked to the Wizengamot, and we decided that we could not give you that blanket pardon," Albus stated, folding his hands over his beard in a superior way. He was lying through his teeth. He hadn't spoken to anyone. He decided on his own not to add it.
"Then I've decided that I cannot vanquish your Dark Lord," the teen stated, putting the contract on the desk and pushing it towards the old man in a forceful manner. He was a bit putout that he was not being taken seriously.
"You would renege on our deal," was the comeback. There was that disappointed grandfather look that Albus was so well known for. Well, too bad, it didn't affect Harry in the least.
"Part of the deal was a blanket pardon," Harry snarked. He was going to be firm on that. Sirius had heard many times, via the listening charm, that this man was going to lock him and Tom up. "I'm not going to be sent to jail killing a Dark Lord. You're not going to set me up to take the fall for taking care of your problem." There was no way this was going to even be attempted. He didn't think they could catch him, and Tom would win in a fight. Harry had the money and the gumption to live in the muggle world. He had the smarts and brawn to do it too. Tom was Dark Lord enough to win a war if it came to that.
"It hurts me that you have so little faith in me, my boy," Dumbledore said, trying for the guilt trip. It wouldn't do well for the boy to push this.
"I'm not stupid, old man. I know that you're planning on taking care of me after I take care of your problem," Harry said, calling his bluff. He had no problem laying his cards on the table. The man could look all he wanted. He'd never find his listening charm. The magic was intent magic, and Dumbledore wouldn't know how to search for that.
"How did you come to this conclusion, my boy?" Albus stated, alarmed. There was no way the boy could know his plans.
"Let's just say a little bird told me," the boy said with a smirk.
"I don't know what you've heard or who you heard it from. But I do have no intention of 'taking care of you' as you put it," the headmaster said, telling an untruth. His face never changed, but for the one tell he had that Harry didn't pick up on. He was quite an accomplished liar. He was a politician after all.
"I don't believe you for a minute. I want a blanket pardon for me and mine. And Tom. I don't much care about his people, but I don't want him or me taking being hauled to jail for taking care of old Voldy. This is non-negotiable," Harry stated, tapping his finger on the desk for emphasis.
"I will see what I can do," Albus sighed, not having any intention of doing anything. He knew that if he gave the boy immunity, then he could kill indiscriminately, and he didn't want that. Those people could be brought to the Light.
"Just remember, if he comes back before that pardon comes along, then this war is on your head," the teen stated, leaning back in his chair with an uncaring air. He'd fight to protect him and his, but he won't lift a finger for England. Tom would do whatever he felt was necessary, but Harry was supposed to be the only one to vanquish the Dark Lord, so there was that.
"I don't see how it could possibly be my fault," the headmaster said, puckering his forehead. That didn't make any sense to him.
"You're the one who's dragging your feet on this," the teen explained his reasoning. To him it made perfect sense. "Remember the prophecy," he added.
"I believe you are the one who's being petty. Or paranoid," Albus said, once again going for the guilt trip.
"It's not paranoia when they're out to get you," Harry stated, shrugging once again without care.
"I have not shown you in any way, shape or form that I am out to get you," the old man stated, prevaricating again. Not outright lying, just bending the truth. All he did was behind closed doors after all.
"You took my house. You're holding my Invisibility Cloak hostage. And now you're not giving me what I need to show me that I'm not going to be thrown in jail for doing your dirty work," said Harry, ready to slam his hands on the desk, he was getting that angry with the man's bullshit. "I'd say you've given me plenty of reasons."
"What assurances do I need to give to you to show you that I'm not going to throw you in jail?" Dumbledore asked, hoping there was something he could say or do that wasn't a pardon.
"Just give me that pardon," the teen said, glaring at the old man in such a way that he wasn't backing down.
"I don't know if I can do that," Albus said with a sigh. Like it was out of his hands, which it was not.
"Then we're done." Harry got up and left the office. He knew in the end the man would have to give him what he wanted, until then all bets were off.
"Do you think he truly means that?" the headmaster asked the air behind him. He had Severus here as usual. The man was his trusted confidant.
"I think he does," said Snape as he came from under the invisibility cloak. He had been listening to the entire thing, and thought the boy had the right of it, but he wasn't sure if the old man was going to listen to him. Dumbledore was getting too set in his ways, and not really taking advice from anyone lately.
"This will not end well," the old man said with a put-upon sigh. The last thing he wanted was to give the boy, and most of all Tom, was that pardon. He did not, and will never, trust Tom Riddle.
"You would endeavor to give the boy what he wants," Snape said, though he was loath to. He didn't want the older Dark Lord back, and he didn't think the Order of the Phoenix was up to taking him down. That and he trusted the prophecy, only Harry Potter would be able to vanquish the man.
"Then all my plans will come to an end. Besides, he still has the Horcrux in his scar," the old man stated, waving in the general direction of the door.
"Have you not noticed that his scar has faded?" Snape said, a crease on his brow. Even he had noticed that. How had the headmaster missed it?
"Has it really? I have not noticed that. I wonder what that means?" Dumbledore asked aloud. His forehead furrowed in thought.
"I would imagine that it means the Horcrux is gone," ventured the dungeon bat. He would have thought it was obvious.
"That is impossible. That means the boy would have died," the headmaster said, still thinking upon the ramifications of the faded scar. Could the boy have died sometime within the last month, and he not known about it? The wards on the castle would have told him if a student had died within its borders. So, he didn't think it happened since the boy came to the school. And the scar was predominant when he came here, he remembered that. So, when had it faded? What did that mean?
"Perhaps he already has. We do not know what he does in his free time. He does not tell us everything. Who knows what happened to him on the street?" Snape stated, nonchalantly. He was sure the boy had magicked the scar away. He knew that Harry Potter knew magic that they didn't. He showed it off enough that the rumor mill talked about it.
"I will have to question him further. Until then, I will work under the impression that the Horcrux is still there," Albus said, giving up on that line of thinking for now. He had to worry about getting the boy a pardon and still get him incarcerated. Or think of another way of ridding them of him and Tom.
"On your head it be." With that Severus left the old man to his thinking. He wasn't going to bang his head against this wall any longer.
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All training for the Order stopped. They were flabbergasted as to why. When they found out it was because Dumbledore would not give the pardon to the boy, they were up in arms at the next meeting. The meetings stopped at Grimmauld Place. They had to meet at the Burrow.
"Why won't you just give the boy the pardon?" asked Molly as they sat in her kitchen. There were only a few people there. Remus, Moody, Molly, Arthur, Dumbledore and Dingle.
"Because then he can kill indiscriminately," said Dumbledore with a sigh as if it were the most obvious thing. He really hadn't wanted to get into the reasoning, but they deserved to know the answer.
"Then word it in such a way that he can't," said Arthur, thinking of many different ways to do just that. Like the boy could only kill Tom Riddle Sr. and his seven lieutenants. Or some such drivel.
"It really is that simple," said Mad-Eye Moody, agreeing with the man and thinking along the same lines. He wasn't going to let Albus hamstring the Order for something petty like this.
"I don't want to give that boy any kind of power," the headmaster said, sighing once again. He didn't like it when they argued with him. He wished they would just take him at his word that he knew what he was doing. He was the leader after all.
"I think Albus is right, and the boy is just throwing a fit," Remus stated, folding his arms and frowning. Ever since Harry took over Grimmauld Place, he had been in a strop. He had nowhere to live and no job. He had the money that Sirius had left him, but no one would rent to a werewolf and he didn't want to rent in the muggle world.
"You just hate the kid for taking your house," said Moody, looking at the werewolf with disdain. He was sick and tired of hearing the woe begotten tales of Remus Lupin.
"Now, Alastor, Remus is right, Harry is just throwing a fit and being a teenager," Albus stated in an almost jovial tone, like it was a huge joke.
"You're just being a stubborn old fool," said Moody, slamming his fist on the table. He was very upset over this. "And you're costing us training."
"Can't you train us, Alastor?" Albus asked, knowing the man had the knowledge and the expertise.
"Aye, I can, but with this one leg of mine," the one-legged man said, sneering at the old man, "I can't do it to the efficiency that the boy can." He thumped a finger on his wooden leg just to make the noise to prove his point that he had one.
"Alas, I did not think of that," Albus said, sheepishly. He had the good grace to look ashamed for voicing such a thing. He knew the man was handicapped and couldn't train a large group of people in sneaking tactics.
"That's because you don't think of anything outside of your damn plans," Alastor stated, glaring at his old friend, knowingly. He knew that Albus was manipulating something behind the scenes, and they were all paying for it now.
"That's uncalled for," said Dingle, once more jumping to Dumbledore's defense. Like the man needed a defender.
"I call 'em like I see 'em", said Moody with a smirk. He then glared at the headmaster again.
"Here now, let's not start an argument," said Dumbledore.
"Then quit your games, Albus. Let us get back to our training. Give the boy his pardon," Alaster stated, not stopping his glaring. He was tired of the game. He just wanted to get back to training, so they didn't lose too many people this time. If there was somewhere else to go, he'd go there. However, Harry's group wasn't an option, and Tom's Death Eaters was also out, so the Order it was. He'd splinter off and form his own group, but too many people ate Albus's cake.
"It is not completely up to me," said the old man. "I must take it before the Wizengamot. It is up to them to decide as well." He ran a hand down his beard in a telling fashion.
"And why haven't you taken it before them?" was the question from the one-eyed man.
"I did. They denied it," the older man stated, lying through his teeth.
"I don't believe you," said Moody. He could tell his friend was lying from the way he was shifting his eyes. Albus had a few tells, that only those who knew him for a long time could see. Like the way his one eye would drift to the right, or the way his right hand would twitch just a bit.
"Alastor, how can you say that?" Albus said, fringing shock.
"Because I know those bastards, and they would do anything to save their necks, including give a blanket pardon to Voldemort himself if they thought it would save their lives," Moody stated, narrowing his eyes at his old friend. He wasn't going to buy this bullshit.
"I am shocked that you would think so little of me, my friend," Dumbledore said, looking for all the world like a kicked puppy.
"Just take it in front of the Wizengamot, Albus, and get us out from under this. We're gonna have a war on our hands any day now, and it's all gonna be on your head," the ex-Auror stated, getting frustrated at the headmaster. He hated politics.
"I will endeavor to do my best."
With that, the meeting broke up and Albus went to do what he had to do. With even his own people turned against him on this subject, he had little choice but to get the boy the pardon. He took it to the Wizengamot. Who were mostly under Tom's control anyway. It was an easy sell.
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Harry and Dumbledore met once again in Dumbledore's office. It had been two weeks since their last meeting and Harry was happy as anything to get this over with. He knew the old man was going to fold.
"Harry, my boy, you will be happy to know that I've finally gotten you what you asked for," Dumbledore said from behind his large desk. He handed the contract over that had the pardon in it. He had it worded so that Harry could kill Voldemort and any of the marked Death Eaters that fired the Unforgivables. Other than that, only maiming curses could be used.
"You got me my pardon?" Harry asked, picking up the contract and started reading. He liked what he was seeing so far. It was a bunch of legal jargon, and hard to follow, but he got most of it.
"Yes," said Dumbledore.
"Did you get it for me and mine?" the teen asked, still skimming over the document.
"Yes."
"And Tom?" Harry asked with a frown, not seeing Tom's name anywhere in the document.
"Well, no," confessed the old man.
"See, that's going to be a problem," said Harry, setting the parchment down and leaning back in his chair. "Yeah, you need to get it for Tom too." He really didn't want his friend to go to jail for killing anyone in an act of war.
"I didn't ask for it for Tom," Albus stated, folding his hands on his desk. He looked serenely at the teen.
"Why the hell not?" Harry asked, angerly.
"He's a Dark Lord. He was responsible for the murder of many children a few years back when he released the basilisk on the school. I cannot ask for a pardon for him," the headmaster stated, looking both angry and sad. He still was upset over the loss of so many lives that year. So many students that would never see adulthood. And it was all Tom's fault. He could not let the man get away with that.
"I'm not asking you to pardon him for his past crimes. I'm asking you to pardon him for his future crimes," Harry said, pragmatically. He didn't want them to forgive Tom for that crime. That was a tragedy that would have to be dealt with somehow. Tom was going to have to make up for it someway. He didn't know how yet, but there had to be a way to pay for it without the man going to jail. Some contribution to the public.
"I can't see absolving him for one and not pardoning him for the other," the old man said, reasonably. To him it made complete sense. And from a legal standpoint it held true.
"I don't understand how you can't do that," Harry said, not getting it.
"It is a legal thing that you just do not understand," the headmaster cajoled.
"Then explain it to me," a frustrated teen said, waving the man to get on with it.
"It would take too long and too much legal jargon for me to explain it to you. You will just have to take my word for it that he cannot be pardoned for one without being pardoned for the other, and I will not pardon him for his past crimes," Dumbledore stated firmly. He was the head judge, and it was his call. He wasn't going to do it and that was final. Tom Riddle wasn't going to get away with killing all those children.
"I'm afraid this is a deal breaker," Harry said, mulishly. Though there was a waver in his tone. Like he wasn't so sure about it this time.
"You would condemn the entire British world to the older Dark Lord just to protect your friend?" Albus asked, hearing the waver. He thought maybe the boy was breaking. He was wrong. Harry was just thinking that there might be a different choice.
"Let me talk to Tom and see what he thinks. I'll get back to you in say… two or three days?" Harry said, going over what he was going to talk to Tom about. He'd ask the mini Dark Lord his thoughts on the matter.
"I would very much appreciate that. Until such a time, would you think about training the order again?" the head of the Order asked, hoping to get Moody off his arse. The ex-Auror had been riding him for ages now.
"Not until I talked to Tom," said Harry with a knowing smirk. Like he knew that Albus was getting flak from his subordinates.
"Very well then," the headmaster sighed. He seemed to be doing that a lot around Harry Potter.
"Until then, Dumbledore," Harry said, leaving the room, the contract still unsigned.