Disclaimer: Nope.

Author's Note: Hi guys. I'm really sorry it has taken me so long to update this. I ran into some huge writer's block while writing this chapter. I feel that the confrontation between Sirius and Dumbledore is one of the most important scenes in this fic, and I wanted to get it just right. Still, I'm not sure I succeeded in this endeavor. It took me ages to feel like I got the flow right.

Plus, I have been stressed with things in RL lately. I'm beginning to come out of it, but some things are still worrying me. I am hoping that finally getting this chapter up will help.

Also, I found out after my last post that email notifications are down. I'm not sure if it applies to everyone, but this probably means that a lot of my subscribers didn't know I updated the last chapter. I am getting exceedingly frustrated with this site's constant issues.

As a matter of fact, I'm getting exceedingly tired of anything to do with technology lately. Two weeks ago, something I love and look forward to every weekend was canceled because the technology didn't work. And guess what? Tomorrow we're in exactly the same situation, so it might just happen again! Oh joy! It's something I normally love, but I'm dreading it. And it's all to do with the Internet, Wi-Fi, and all that crap. I am praying with every fiber of my being that I am wrong and tomorrow works out like it's supposed to. But I was an optimist two weeks ago and things didn't go according to plan, so I'm not hoping for anything tomorrow.

Anyway, I'm getting off track. Here's something to let you guys know that is actually - low and behold - a good thing! I have started to upload this story to Archive of Our Own. I'm sure many of you have heard of that site, but for those who haven't, it's another fanfiction site. I have also posted several of my old one-shots up there too.

Obviously, it will take me a long time to post all my current chapters of this story up there, and all my old one-shots, but it will be done over time. This does not mean that I will stop writing the story while that's being done, and it also doesn't mean I'll stop posting to this site. I have established a reader base here, and I'm not going to let you guys down. Therefore, you guys will still get new chapters, and I'm hoping that the email notification system will come back so you'll know I'm still writing! Of course, with how I'm feeling about so-called "hope" lately when it comes to technology, I can only be pessimistic, but - yeah, yeah, yeah, blah, blah, blah. If you do feel like checking out Archive of Our Own, I go by the same username there.

Phew! Now that that bunch of blather is all out of the way, here's the next chapter. I will warn you now, Sirius says something absolutely terrible to Dumbledore at the end. It's true that he's changed a lot since he started taking care of Harry, but he's definitely not in a good place when confronting Dumbledore. I absolutely adore Sirius, as you all can see. But he certainly has the ability to use his words as weapons, and the end of this chapter is a prime example of it. And there will definitely be fallout from it as well.

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It had taken all day for Sirius Black to prepare for this confrontation. He was experiencing major contradictory feelings - he wanted nothing more than to confront the man who had hurt his precious godson so badly. But at the same time, he was dreading what would happen when he set his eyes on the deceitful bastard.

It hurt all the more, because Harry was convinced that the man had good intentions. He was positive that Dumbledore had never meant to hurt him. It made Sirius's heart ache, to see both trust and pain in Harry's emerald eyes.

For the past two days, it had taken every part of Sirius's mental faculties to keep it together for Harry, to stay strong for him. Every time he looked into the boy's green eyes, it took effort for him not to imagine them vacant and lifeless. Every time Harry spoke, it was like he was memorizing his voice. Every time Sirius held the boy in his arms, the thought ran through his mind over and over again: We're running out of time.

But he knew that thinking this way was not helping him, and it definitely wouldn't help Harry. He felt like he was already breaking the promise he had made to himself, that he wouldn't constantly obsess over losing Harry. He already lived with enough regret - he didn't want to look back on these moments and realize that he hadn't cherished the time he had with Harry. The fact was, the boy was here now, with him. And there was still hope. Dixon believed it, and so did Harry. And to Sirius, the boy was the definition of hope - he had given him a reason to live, when he had thought it was literally impossible to do so without Lily and James. Harry had reached inside Sirius's withered soul and found something worth salvaging, and Sirius held onto it for all he was worth. He couldn't let his godson down again when the boy was counting on him to stay strong.

But he knew that once he came face to face with Dumbledore, he would fail to stay in control. He knew he wouldn't be able to keep his anger in check. Dumbledore would bring out the worst parts of him. But he knew that facing him couldn't be avoided - it was impossible.

Therefore, he had spoken to Sturgis that morning, and his old mentor, knowing him as he did, made sure that certain precautions were enacted. Sirius had taken a calming potion after entering Order Headquarters, and he had also asked Sturgis to take his wand from him. He didn't fear being attacked by Death Eaters here, as not only was Kingsley the Secret Keeper, but the house was expertly warded. There was a big part of him that chastized himself for trusting anything to do with the Fidelius Charm - after all, that charm was the reason why things were the way they were today. Maybe it was his old idolization of Sturgis that made him do so - it was a known fact that Sturgis trusted Kingsley with his life, and with the lives of those he cared about.

Sirius knew that if his wand was within reach, he would use it, and he was concerned that not even a calming potion would stay his hand. Sturgis had patted his shoulder as Sirius handed over his wand. "I am very proud of you." His quiet words took Sirius back to his Auror training, and he felt his heart skip a beat. Hearing those words from Sturgis was like a balm that soothed his soul.

He was very thankful for Molly and Arthur Weasley - they had agreed to have Harry at the Burrow for dinner. Obviously, none of the children were there, as they were at Hogwarts, but Sirius had explained that he had errands to run. Neither Molly nor Arthur knew what had happened, of course, and it was obvious that Molly was curious about what Sirius could be doing where Harry couldn't be involved. But they had agreed to have Harry there without an issue.

He couldn't get the boy's pleading eyes out of his mind. "I really don't think Dumbledore was trying to hurt me." His voice had been soft. "Please don't hate him."

Sirius had held Harry close, stroking his raven hair, feeling his heartbeat. "I'm not going to hurt him, Harry." He rubbed the boy's back in reassurance, desperately hoping that Harry wouldn't feel the tension thrumming through him.

"I love you, Sirius." Harry whispered the words as he clung to his godfather.

"I love you too, kiddo." Sirius planted a kiss on Harry's forehead. It hurt fiercely because even though Harry was convinced that Dumbledore hadn't purposely tried to cause him pain, Sirius heard the hurt in the boy's voice. Harry couldn't hide that Dumbledore's actions had hurt him, and for that, the man could never be forgiven. Not by Sirius - not at all.

And so, when Dumbledore walked into Order Headquarters, Sirius didn't notice the new wrinkles in his face that spoke of how the ordeal he'd suffered haunted him. He didn't even spare Minerva McGonagall a glance - later, he'd forget that she was even there. She didn't stay, either - it was plain that she was going to leave him to face the music on his own, and Sirius was all too glad for it.

"I know everything." Sirius's heart was racing as he set eyes on the man that had failed Harry spectacularly. Right now, he wasn't even thinking about his own tormented past, about how Dumbledore could have worked harder, done more, to get him a trial. Well - he did think about that, but only in terms of Harry. He could have gotten him out of that horrible environment so much sooner.

The two stared at each other for an endless moment, and Sirius saw the color drain from Dumbledore's face as the ramifications of what he'd said set in.

"I know everything."

It wasn't much - just three little words, but there was an extraordinary amount of meaning that was packed into them. Dumbledore, who had always seemed to know what to say in the past, was completely silent. It was like the two men were suspended in time, waiting for the next blow to fall.

The moment was broken as Sirius began to make his way to the living room. No one else intercepted them. Sirius knew that Sturgis had gone upstairs to his own room in order to give them privacy, but would be around if either of them needed him.

Silently, Dumbledore did as Sirius asked and walked into the living room. There were very comfortable couches and chairs in here, but neither of them moved to sit down. The atmosphere was way too tense for that.

Sirius could feel himself shaking as he faced Dumbledore. His heart was racing, and he honestly felt like the anger wasn't even a part of him - it was a separate entity, and it would burst out of him at any second, like a roaring monster who would devour all that was in its path - mainly, the old man who looked grief-stricken and lost. Dumbledore's facial expression did absolutely nothing to calm Sirius - if anything, it only made the fury roil inside him more ferociously.

"How could you?" Sirius's voice was low and dangerous. Once again, it was only three little words, but they conveyed everything he was feeling.

"Sirius." Dumbledore did not sound at all self-assured, like the hero Sirius had grown up idolizing. He flashed back to the moment when Dumbledore had smiled at him as he was Sorted into Gryffindor, and the feeling of betrayal almost swallowed him. The magnitude of it tore his world asunder.

Sirius could feel heat radiating from him, and he thought it was only due to the calming potion that his accidental magic wasn't set off. "You're not sorry." He whispered the words. "Did you know that I once worshiped the ground you walked on?"

He felt absolutely pathetic, saying these words. Why should he have ever needed a hero? And Dumbledore hadn't been the only one either - obviously, he had idolized Sturgis as well. The two situations were different, though, as with Sturgis, he had seen a reflection of himself, and the man gave him hope that he could grow from his roots and turn into the kind of person that Sturgis had become. Dumbledore, however - in him, he saw a cause to fight for. A cause that held beliefs that were completely the opposite of what his foul family had tried to instill in him. Sirius had jumped at the chance to make his mark on the world, to show himself as a Black who didn't swallow the sick ideology his parents swore was the true way of the world, but Sirius knew was all lies.

Sirius's motivation to fight against Voldemort was stronger now than it had ever been. But the man he had believed in so fiercely was nothing but an illusion. Lily had once told him that it was much better to not let yourself put anyone on a pedestal, because everyone was fallible and if you were betrayed, it would sting worse than anything in the entire world.

And what made it a thousand times worse was the fact that Dumbledore hadn't only betrayed him. He had betrayed Harry. And to him, it was worse than anything the man could have ever done. And he knew that even if Dumbledore tried to earn Sirius's forgiveness, he never could. Sirius had vowed not to hold grudges anymore - but this went far past what Sirius was willing to accept.

Dumbledore said nothing in reply to Sirius's last statement. The expression on his face was one of terrible sadness, but Sirius, whose heart would usually twinge with sympathy at the worn, stricken look on his old hero's face, only felt angrier. Dumbledore had absolutely no right to look so miserable when Sirius could literally lose everything. He saw Harry's staring, vacant eyes in his mind again and felt a violent shudder wrack through him.

"Do you want Harry to die? Were you preparing him like a pig for slaughter? Is this what his entire life has been about? What is his existence worth to you?" Sirius's voice started out soft, but it grew in volume as he shot each question at Dumbledore. The calming potion might as well be nonexistent in his system, but then again, that might be the only reason that Sturgis's house wasn't falling down around them.

Dumbledore's face crumpled, and he took a few shaky steps before collapsing into a chair. "No, Sirius. Harry dying is the last thing I want."

Never had Sirius heard Dumbledore sound so incredibly defeated - not even during the First War, when Order members were being picked off one by one and it became all too clear there was a spy - even then, he'd tried to keep up morale, although his face had been lined with sorrow and his eyes had lost their twinkle.

But still, this didn't move Sirius. All he saw was the heartbreaking acceptance in Harry's eyes as he told Sirius, with that bone-deep certainty in his voice, that Dixon wasn't lying about him being a Horcrux. All he saw was the vivid picture of burying Harry in Godric's Hollow beside Lily and James as everyone else celebrated the defeat of the scourge of the wizarding world.

Therefore, he paid no attention to Dumbledore's soft denial and plowed on, the redness of anger blocking all sight. "I suppose, in your own twisted way, you were making things easier for him," he said, a hysterical laugh bursting out of him. "Easier for him to sacrifice himself, that is. I worked out your brilliant plan. Harry told me everything I needed to know."

He looked Dumbledore right in the eye, a sick sort of satisfaction shooting through him as he almost reveled in the old man's devastation. This was the part of Sirius that hadn't made itself known in quite a while, the part of Sirius that was all Black family, the part that had stopped existing when around Harry. Because Harry made him better, and now, at the prospect of losing him -

"You put him with a family that you knew was going to despise him," Sirius growled, feeling almost feral, like a wild dog. "You didn't want him getting too attached to life, did you? If he felt useless and worthless and unloved, you could cope, couldn't you, because it would suit your plan just fine. Oh no, if he didn't have a loving family to hold onto, it would all be for the better."

Sirius's cutting words were definitely having an effect on Dumbledore. With every harsh sentence, the man seemed to deflate further, sinking lower and lower in his chair.

"Then, when he turned eleven, you swooped in and showed him that he was, in fact, not a waste of space," Sirius snarled, the blood boiling in his veins. "Oh, no. He was a savior and a hero and so beloved that the entire wizarding world knew his name. You didn't tell the truth - you knew all along that it was Lily who defeated Voldemort that night. No - you made Harry a household name overnight, because you knew that many would swallow your every word, oh Great Leader of the Light, oh Chief Warlock." The sarcasm in Sirius's tone was bitter and venomous. "No trial for Sirius Black. I was locked in Azkaban, never to see the light of day again while you subjected my godson to Hell the likes of which ..." His throat constricted, and he swallowed convulsively. "And then, you sent Hagrid to tell him everything."

Sirius thought of the friendly half-giant, and felt his heart twist inside him. It was obvious why Dumbledore had chosen him - not only to retrieve Harry from a destroyed Godric's Hollow, but also to be the one to finally give the boy his letter and tell him about the wizarding world.

Sirius knew the story of Hagrid's expulsion when he had been a student - Harry had revealed everything. And it was obvious that Hagrid owed his freedom to Dumbledore, who had let him come back to Hogwarts as gamekeeper and had, after Kettleburn's retirement, given him the post of Care of Magical Creatures professor. Hagrid owed Dumbledore an enormous debt of gratitude, and the old man had known it and used it, hadn't he? Hagrid would do whatever Dumbledore ordered, and the most heartbreaking part of it was that Sirius couldn't be angry with the half-giant. He knew the man meant well, and that he adored Harry. He had adored the Marauders, too, and had been so happy for Lily and James when he found out about Lily's pregnancy. He had always referred to Harry as a "little tyke" with open affection, and had wept buckets of tears the night Lily and James were murdered. He would have considered it the highest honor to give Harry his letter and take him to Diagon Alley, reintegrating him into the wizarding world he'd been separated from for so long.

As Sirius spoke, Dumbledore's face only grew more pale, more stricken. He seemed rooted to the spot, saying nothing to defend his actions. He never interrupted once, and never made any move to stop Sirius's diatribe. Sirius, though, was too lost in his rage to care, and so he continued to lay out his grievances, his face never losing its vicious glower.

"You put the Philosopher's Stone in a school full of children," Sirius whispered venomously. "And it's completely ludicrous if you try to spout that you didn't know Quirrell was up to no good. And ... funny that a group of eleven-year-olds found a way to get past your oh-so-secure traps to protect the Stone, isn't it?" Spittle was flying from Sirius's mouth as he remembered Harry's description of his first meeting with Voldemort that he could consciously remember. "And funny that you didn't think of destroying the stone until AFTER my godson was almost lost. A monster attacked him in his school, the place he was supposed to feel safe. Without Poppy Pomfrey, Harry would have died that night, and you know it."

Still, Dumbledore said nothing in his own defense. It was as though he'd never had anyone describe his actions in this fashion before. Maybe - maybe, he'd truly never thought of it this way before - he'd always thought of the bigger picture, of costs and benefits, of soldiers going into battle. What he'd truly never considered was that this particular soldier was a child, full of wide-eyed wonder at the world around him, willing to do anything to protect those he loved without really knowing what he was facing down.

It was my choice to fight, Sirius. For a moment, Sirius remembered Harry's words. He did not discount them - not for a second. Even at eleven, Harry made the choice to fight Quirrell and Voldemort, when he could have very well left the stone alone and thought the adults could handle it.

But he thought he had to. No adult listened to him, even when he asked for help, Sirius recalled as a sudden, renewed bout of fury at Minerva McGonagall ripped through him. How could you? In the next instant, the fury turned to a terrible sadness. I thought so much better of you.

Sirius voiced his thoughts. "He was certain he had to do it all by himself." Grief had replaced the anger in Sirius's tone. "For the first time in his life, he had friends. He had people he cared about. And if no adult was going to protect the school, he was going to do so. It was his choice - he even told me that. It was his choice, but ... he did it because he was convinced no one else cared. He thought himself far less worthy of life than others, because he was told so over and over again. For ten years, he was told he was a waste of space." His voice grew hoarse with emotion - the grief and rage was so potent that it filled the entire room.

As much as he wanted to, there were things Sirius couldn't reveal to Dumbledore about Harry's so-called "family". It would be betraying his godson's confidences to do so, especially when Harry had trusted Sirius with so much. But in order for Dumbledore to understand, he had to make at least some of it clear.

"Lily," he choked. "Lily was always talking about Petunia. And you were privy to some of those conversations - I know you were. Tell me, Dumbledore - did you ever see the Potters' wills?"

At this, Dumbledore seemed to deflate even further, if that was possible. When he spoke, his own voice was hoarse with pain and regret. "Yes, I have."

Sirius noticed that he wasn't making eye contact at all, which only made him more positive of what the wills said. "And what, pray tell, was in them?" he demanded harshly.

Dumbledore spoke the words like they were referring to his own death sentence. His voice was flat, his eyes so unspeakably sad. "Under no circumstances was Harry to go to Petunia," he said quietly. "But ... Sirius, you have to understand, the blood wards ..."

"I have to understand nothing!" Sirius was shouting, his entire body shaking with anger. "Do you have any idea how much Lily and James looked up to you, too?" He felt wild, unhinged, untamed - and he thought fleetingly that he had been right to ask Sturgis to take his wand. "And you ... you deliberately went against their wishes! You ... you ... you ..."

For a moment, he couldn't say anything at all. There was a long, terrible moment where the entire world shook on its foundations for him. He looked at the man who had made him feel safe at Hogwarts when he was eleven, the man who had invited him to fight for the Order despite his many shortcomings, and had welcomed him wholeheartedly, who had given him his trust and respect.

"You needed a soldier." Sirius whispered the words, and they tasted bitter on his tongue as bile rose to the back of his throat. "You knew exactly what you were doing, Dumbledore."

The old man placed his head in his hands. There were no more pleading words, no more trying to get Sirius to understand his reasons and his point of view. Sirius had found him out and there was no getting around it. No second chances. No reconciliation.

And when Sirius stared at him, he realized that the man's guilt was genuine. He remembered that conversation that seemed like such a long time ago now, the conversation the morning after Cedric's death when Dumbledore had asked Sirius how Harry was faring. When Sirius had replied harshly, the look in the old man's eyes had conveyed that Dumbledore meant Harry no harm.

And that was the crux of it. Dumbledore really, really didn't want to harm Harry; he just thought he had to. What was the misery and lost childhood of one boy, compared to the survival of the wizarding world? What was the sacrifice of one young child, compared to the continued existence of all the other children in the world?

But Dumbledore had miscalculated. He had always thought that it had to be his way, or no way at all. He thought there could be no other plans. No other choices. He hadn't asked for help. He said he trusted people, but he really didn't. He was a leader who had failed - had failed spectacularly.

"Was Cedric Diggory collateral damage?"

The question was softly spoken, filled with the raw grief and fury that were still pulsing through him in equal measure. "Albus - I know you don't remember what happened last year. I can't even begin to imagine what you've endured." For a moment, the anger left him, and he really looked at the exhausted old man before him, who had only spoken a few words throughout this entire confrontation.

"But ... I ask you this because you knew Alastor Moody," Sirius said quietly. "You've been friends with him for decades. You fought in the First War with him. I'm sure you had many meetings with him during peacetime. Did Healer Dixon ... did he tell you anything of what happened last school year?"

"He showed me," Dumbledore whispered. "Sirius, I ..."

"Maybe I shouldn't be asking you this." Sirius cut across Dumbledore as the anger began to filter in again. "Because you don't recall it. But ... if you were to repeat the year all over again ... if you suspected that Alastor Moody wasn't acting quite like himself, would you do anything about it?"

At last, Dumbledore spoke. "Barty Crouch, Jr. was an extremely good actor," he whispered. "He had the entire staff fooled for a whole year."

"That's not the question I'm asking," Sirius spat. "Great way to skate around it, Dumbledore, but I'm not falling for it. The question is - would he have fooled you? Just like Quirrell? Just like Lockhart?" he asked with venomous sarcasm.

"I am not infallible." Dumbledore finally spoke up in his own defense, and his voice was sharp. "You mention Cedric Diggory. Do you really think I wanted ..."

"I don't know what you want anymore, Albus." Sirius snarled. "You didn't swoop in and save Harry until the last minute in his first year. You didn't do sod-all in his second year either, when a goddamned BASILISK was attacking the school. I'm perfectly aware that Hermione Granger is extremely intelligent, but do you mean to tell me that she was able to work out what the monster was when the great Albus Dumbledore could not?"

He glowered viciously at the man. "Perhaps, I expected too much of you." His voice was a low, deadly hiss. "Perhaps I'm letting my old hero-worship of you get inside my head again, by thinking of you as so world-wise." He sneered, but this time, the expression was directed towards himself.

"But you had plans for Harry." Each phrase seemed to hold more malice in it than the last as Sirius's anger built. "You wanted him to have to deal with hardship. You needed your hero to perform admirably. He had beaten the odds before - so why not again?" His gray eyes burned into Dumbledore's blue ones.

"Perhaps you really were fooled by Crouch," he said quietly. "Maybe, on a conscious level, that was true. But, subconsciously ..." He let the sentence hang.

Dumbledore looked absolutely horrified. "You are accusing me of not caring about Cedric Diggory, Sirius. That is an accusation I cannot ..."

"Yes, I'm accusing you of that," Sirius hissed at him. "Because even if Crouch fooled you, you knew very well that my godson did not enter his name into the Goblet of Fire. You knew very well that he wasn't lying to you when he told you he didn't do it. And before you give me any bullshit about binding magical contracts, are you really telling me that Harry would have died if he didn't compete? And ... if there were serious consequences if he didn't adhere to the contract, then what the hell are you thinking, doing that to schoolchildren? And, if you were serious about knowing exactly who entered his name, you would have been perfectly in your rights to dose every Hogwarts staff member with Veritaserum."

"You know I'm not allowed to do that, Sirius. It is a serious breach of the Hogwarts Code of Conduct," Dumbledore said softly, his reasonable tone making the hairs on Sirius's neck stand on end.

"When it concerns life or death, the Code of Conduct means SQUAT!" Sirius shouted. "But it's a moot point, because you did none of it and allowed my fourteen-year-old godson to compete in a dangerous tournament where he could have DIED in any one of those tasks, without bloody Voldemort even being a part of the equation! The tournament was discontinued years ago for that precise reason!"

Memories buffeted him, and Sirius's heart filled with pain and sadness when he remembered Harry's grief-stricken goodbye to Cedric, and his promise to him to keep fighting. He remembered the expression of fear that was frozen onto Cedric's lifeless face, the way Mrs. Diggory leant over him, the way Mr. Diggory could barely hold himself up. For as long as he lived, Sirius would never forget that last, desperate look of helplessness and fear that Cedric had worn - a look that should never, ever have graced his handsome face. And he had been so young. So, so incredibly young with his entire life ahead of him.

And Harry, with that look of excruciating guilt. Harry, confessing to Sirius that he had been jealous of Cedric, wishing with everything he had that he could take it all back. Harry, who had almost died himself, and whose blood had unwillingly been used to bring back the darkest wizard in a century. Harry who, despite his own horrific memories and fears, did more than anyone would have expected of him and had spoken to the Diggorys, and wanted to see Cedric one last time. ...

"For your information," Sirius said, his voice still dripping with venom, "Cedric Diggory was very dearly loved. He had a mother and a father who would have done anything for him. They will now never see him again, because he is buried six feet under in a coffin. They can only visit his grave now, and mourn the life he never got to live." He paused, letting the words penetrate Dumbledore's being. "And Harry says that he was kind, helpful, honorable, and honest. He was always willing to help people. He had an incredible amount of friends, and a girlfriend who loved him deeply and who's never going to stop missing him. She'll miss him for the rest of her life because he was violently taken away from her due to your negligence. He was a boy with a life, Dumbledore. He might have been nameless and faceless to you, but he had dreams.

"And now my godson has to live with survivor's guilt, when he's not the one responsible for any of this," Sirius went on, paying no attention to the expression of severe distress on Dumbledore's face. "Albus, the way you have run Hogwarts since Harry's arrival is abominable. You do not realize how your decisions affect real people. Hogwarts is a school, not a war training camp. The students should be able to feel secure, and not worry about terrible things happening in their vicinity, including the trauma of seeing a dead body - and the dead body of someone they deeply cared about.

"Cedric had dreams," Sirius continued relentlessly. "And Harry ... Harry has dreams, too." Sirius's voice cracked as a wave of overwhelming sorrow and grief hit him. "A martyr for the cause," he said quietly. "That's what you were planning, weren't you?"

Albus Dumbledore, a man who had always seemed to have the answers to everything, now sat hunched in upon himself, those once-twinkling eyes now pained and dull. There was an absolutely terrible expression on his face; he looked as though his world had just ended. It was the first time that Sirius Black had ever seen the man he had once trusted look completely defeated. "There's no other way, Sirius. At least, I didn't think so."

"Dixon disagrees," Sirius spat out. "He thinks there is another way to remove the Horcrux without killing my godson." He glowered at the man again. "What if Harry made the decision to live, and not sacrifice himself for the cause? What then? Were you going to do it yourself?" He couldn't help but rub salt into the wound, a sudden pang of regret going through him at once again becoming the person who knew how to hit people where it hurt the most. But the regret was momentary, and it didn't stop Sirius from spewing words of absolute hate, of darkness, words that could do an extraordinary amount of damage.

"Were you going to point your wand at Harry?" His heart was beating so fast, and he barely realized that the words were escaping from his lips. "Were you going to look him in the eye and betray him, and see his horror-stricken expression as you uttered the two words that would ..."

"NO!" Suddenly, Dumbledore was towering over Sirius, his entire body rigid, his face so full of anger and sorrow that it stopped Sirius's vitriol in its tracks. "Do you really think that of me, Sirius?" His blue eyes were wild, bearing the look of a hunted and wounded animal. "Do you really think that I could do that? That I have it in me to kill Harry? Do you think I wanted any of this, to be put in this position, to ... to ..."

It was then that Albus Dumbledore lost all the strength he had in him, and collapsed to the ground in grief. The weight of the world finally bore down on him, and Sirius saw his old mentor in a crumpled heap on the floor of Sturgis's home.

"Please, Sirius. Please forgive me," Dumbledore whispered. "I never meant to hurt Harry. I never ... I never wanted Cedric Diggory to die either. I ... I have done so much wrong, Sirius. So much. But I could never ... I could never ..."

And for the first time that Sirius had ever seen, Headmaster of Hogwarts and war leader Albus Dumbledore wept.