Chapter 7: Dumbledore's Confession

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After the students had written their letters and Harry and Fred had talked to a few more of them, Harry took off to see if he could find a place where he could teach the other kids the defensive spells he promised them. He knew he could teach them in the Great Hall, but he wanted to see if there was any other place he could do it. He was wandering around the castle when he came across a most welcome sight. Dumbledore's ghost.

He was happy to see the ghost of the man he thought of as a grandfather. The ghost was standing there shimmering in robes that looked heavy and colorful. Harry couldn't see the color, but he knew Dumbledore, and if he could see the color, he knew it would be blinding. The man's hair and beard were just as long in death as they had been in life.

"Ah, Harry, my boy, just the boy I wanted to see," Dumbledore said, holding out his arms in a grand gesture. Like he was greeting an old friend, or a young relative. He glided along the hall towards Harry with his arms open like he was going to hug him. He stopped just short of him and smiled down on him.

"Dumbledore," said Harry, his face lit up with a brilliant smile. Then it fell and he said, "I was very sorry to see you go, sir." He sounded sad and sincere.

"Do not fret, Harry, I just went on my next great adventure. I am doing well now. I was very old, you know," the ghost stated, beaming at the young man in his spectral form. "Harry, I needed to let you know that Voldemort is not dead," he stated with some urgency.

"I don't understand, sir. I know he's not dead," Harry said, a look of confusion on his face. He knew the man wasn't dead, he'd been telling people that for ages now.

"No, you misunderstand," Dumbledore said, making a dismissive gesture. "He died with the virus, but he is not dead in reality."

"You're not making any sense," the teenager said, his brow furrowed.

"You see, Harry, Voldemort has made these things known as Horcruxes. That is where he took pieces of his soul and placed them in vessels. As long as those vessels survive, so does he. It is up to you to hunt these down and take care of them, so that he may not come back to life again," the ghost said, running his hand down his beard, looking over his glasses at Harry with a grave expression.

"How do you know that the virus got him?" Harry asked, looking at him like he was crazy. He didn't want to have to run around Britain hunting down vessels of the Dark Lord's soul pieces. He had other things to do, like help keep those here alive.

"I have seen him in the afterlife," was the answer.

"And you came back to tell me this?" the teen asked, wondering how the old man did that. Was he that powerful that he could come back from the afterlife to haunt the school? He had never heard of any other ghost doing that.

"Yes."

"And how do you know that he has not passed on for good?" Harry asked, thinking that maybe the vessels were no longer valid.

"Because he made the Horcruxes," Dumbledore said, like it was the only answer.

"But, sir, if he is in the afterlife, then how do you know the Horcruxes are not defunct?" Harry said, desperate for it to be the answer. It was only logical after all.

"Trust me, Harry, I know what I am speaking about," Dumbledore stated with an air of superiority.

"No, I don't think you do," said Sirius as he came upon the two of them talking. With him were Tonks and Andi. They had been going to the Great Hall to talk to the children. They wanted to touch base with Fred and Harry. The rest of the adults were still waiting for Filius to commune with Hogwarts. It might take some time.

The ghost of the old headmaster turned and smiled at Sirius and said, "Ah, Sirius, you would know of such vile things. But I assure you, the Horcruxes are still in effect." He looked grave and nodded like his word was the last word on the subject.

Sirius wasn't going to be dissuaded though. "If Voldemort is in the afterlife, then I am pretty sure that they are no longer in effect. He would be running around as a wraith," he said, he was sure he was right. If Voldemort was in the afterlife, then the Horcruxes were gone.

"I see," said Dumbledore, wrinkling his forehead in thought. He didn't want to think that he was wrong, but Sirius did have a point.

"Professor," said Harry, wanting some answers to a few questions, "I have a few questions for you now that you are here. Why did you send me home for Yule? I wanted to spend my time with Sirius." It had been bothering him for a while now. He knew he had to get out of the castle to get away from Umbridge, but he could have gone to Grimmauld Place.

"Ah, well, you see Harry, I wanted you to suffer," the old man said, smiling at him. Being a ghost meant that he saw no point in lying. It didn't affect him any longer.

"What?" the flabbergasted teen asked, looking like he had been smacked with a fish.

"Yes, I wanted you to spend your time with your relatives and have you suffer some," the ghost repeated, like he was discussing the weather. It was all relative to him now. "I was not worried; I had spoken to them. I knew they would not hurt you overly much," he added, eyes twinkling.

"But why?" Harry asked, his throat closing up some with emotion. He looked at Sirius and saw that he was getting angry on his behalf. The dogman's face was red, Tonks' and Andi's weren't any better.

"To keep you humble, of course," Dumbledore said with a smirk, like it had been a brilliant plan.

"Is that why you put me with my relatives in the first place?" Harry asked, getting upset and seeing it for the plot that it was. He was starting to see many plans that the headmaster had laid out in his school career.

"But of course, my boy, I had to keep you meek. I couldn't let being the Boy-Who-Lived go to your head," Albus said, cheerfully.

"But, sir, I did not know I was the Boy-Who-Lived," Harry protested, not seeing the point of why he had to live with abusive relatives.

"Yes, that was one of my greater plans. You not knowing you were a celebrity kept you humble," Dumbledore stated, preening like a peacock.

"You knew how they treated me," Harry accused, pointing a finger at him. "You knew they were abusive when I was a kid," he all but shouted.

"I knew you would have some dark, lonely years, but alas, I did not know that they would be as dark and lonely as they were," the old man said, and for once his word held some real sorrow. He seemed to be truly sorry for what Harry had suffered. "And for that I am very sorry. I spoke to them when I found out. That is why they toned it down," he said, like he had done the boy a favor.

"And when I told you that I didn't want to go back, why did you not let me go and live with Sirius?" Harry asked, more like he demanded. He hated the Dursleys and had really wanted to get away from them. He was not sorry they were dead, not really. Not that he wished anyone dead, but…

"I did not want to lose control of you," the ghost stated, once more sure of himself. "I needed you where I could keep you in check." He peered over his glasses and his eyes twinkled again.

"You see, Harry," said, Sirius, coming up to Harry and putting a hand on his shoulder, "Dumbledore is what you call a Machiavellian type of chess player. He doesn't see people as people. He sees them as pieces on a chess board. He moves them around where he wants them and if they need to be sacrificed for the greater part of the game, then so be it. You were a pawn or maybe a knight." He squeezed his shoulder a bit in commiseration.

"Oh," said Harry, still reeling from all he was learning. He wasn't really coping well with everything that had happened over the week, now this. Horcruxes, Dumbledore's betrayal, death everywhere… he just didn't know what to do with it all. "Well, who is his queen?" he asked, wondering who Dumbledore thought the most important piece was.

"He was, of course," Sirius said, glaring at the ghost.

"How'd that work out for you, sir?" Harry asked, also glaring at the ghost and smirking as well.

Dumbledore gave him his best disappointed look and said, "Harry, don't listen to Sirius. I need you to go and find those Horcruxes so that Voldemort does not come back." He wasn't going to let this go. Even if Voldemort wasn't a wraith, he was sure he could come back.

Harry was shaking his head and turning away. "I don't know if you know this, sir," he said, disdain in his tone, "but that virus killed all but 22% of the population. I need to figure out how to prevent even more people from dying. I don't have time to go hunting Horcruxes." He turned his eyes away from the ghost and glared at the wall.

"But Voldemort will kill more," the dead headmaster said, desperation lacing his tone.

"We will fight off Voldemort, and any Death Eater he brings along," said Sirius in his most serious tone. "Well, we would, but I'm sure the man is dead. However, we will fight his minions."

"Right, I've got things I've got to do. You sit here and talk with the dead headmaster," Harry said as he walked away. He was beyond upset. He needed to get away from the ghost of the ex-headmaster.

"You really put your foot in it this time, Albus," said Sirius, keeping the ghost with them. "I have my own bone of contention to pick with you."

"Whatever for?" asked the old man as he watched the boy go. He didn't understand why Harry was upset. He had only done what he did to keep the boy safe and modest. If he had not done it, then the boy would have been spoiled and in danger. Well, in more danger than he was now.

Sirius rounded on Dumbledore and snarled at him. He had two years of pent-up frustration to vent. "You left me in that house and didn't get me a trial. It worked out in the end, but no thanks to you. The world had to come to an end and now I can walk around free as a bird. I've already spoken to Amelia Bones, and she says it doesn't really matter anymore because there is no law. So, it took the end of the world to get me free, but you could have done it two years ago," he said, poking his finger in the ghost's torso. It was like sticking it in freezing gel. His whole hand was now numb.

"Sirius, my boy, you know my hands were tied," Albus said, truly believing what he was saying. He didn't feel the need to lie. He thought that it was political suicide to help Sirius at the time, so he did not.

"I know no such thing," Sirius said, poking him again, no matter that it made his hand cold. "I know you were dragging your feet to keep me away from Harry."

"I know that too," said Tonks, folding her arms across her chest. "I and Remus talked about it many times." They had discussed it in angry tones. Remus didn't want to believe it, while she did. It was one of the things they fought over.

"Where is Remus?" asked Albus, changing the subject. He was curious as to where the werewolf was.

"The virus affected the werewolves badly," Tonks said, her voice was husky with sadness. There were tears in her eyes. She was glad that Remus had not bitten her, the scratches were bad enough, but you had to be bitten to transfer the disease. "They've all gone feral," she explained.

"That is most disheartening," the ghost said, shaking his head. "I had such high hopes for that boy. Where is Severus?" he asked, looking around like the potions master would appear any moment.

"We don't know," Sirius said, shaking his head. "I've written him a letter, but he has not responded to me yet." He was getting the impression the man was dead.

"You will need him in the fight with Voldemort," Dumbledore said like it was important.

"We will decide what we need without your input," said Tonks, there was a snap in her tone.

"My dear, what have I ever done to you?" the affronted ghost asked, looking like he had been slapped.

"You kept sending Remus out to speak to the werewolves," she snarled, her eyes snapping at him, "knowing that at any moment they could turn on him." It was something else they fought over. She never liked it when Remus went to talk to the werewolves. They didn't like him. They called him Dumbledore's Dog.

"He was my only choice," Albus protested, holding out his hands in supplication. "He was the only one who could relate to them."

"It was a fool's errand. There was no way that they could relate to him," she rebutted. "He was the only one who ever attended Hogwarts. And whose fault was that? You never extended that olive branch to them."

"I couldn't take the chance," he said, like it was a given.

"But you took the chance with Remus. I don't understand why you didn't take the chance with any other werewolf," she said, there was confusion in her tone.

"There was the incident with Severus. It almost ended up with Remus and Severus being killed," he explained, shooting an accusing look at Sirius.

"That's bullshit and you know it, Albus," said Sirius, folding his arms over his chest. "That was a prank gone wrong." He wasn't going to take the blame for that. Not after so many years.

"Still, I could not take another chance that that would happen again," the old man said, holding his hands out in a placating manner.

"I still say it's bullshit," Sirius said.

"And I still hold my grievance against you for it," said Tonks. Remus would come back from those missions, either beaten up or upset that they wouldn't listen to him. He never got anywhere with them.

"I wonder if any other ghosts are going to be hanging around?" asked Andi, speaking for the first time. She was hoping for some of the teachers to come back. They could teach the students. Not in a classroom setting, but in training like sessions.

"Alas, I do not know," said Albus.

"It's a pity you came back when you did," said Sirius with a snort. "Now we have to listen to you and your caterwauling."

"I beg your pardon," Dumbledore said, glaring at him over his glasses. "I do not caterwaul."

"Well, you do give unneeded and unwanted advice," Sirius said, waving his hand dismissively. "You did it in life, and now you're doing it in death."

"Very well then, I will take myself elsewhere," the ghost said, drifting away.

"Good riddance," said Sirius and Tonks as they watched him shift through a wall.

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Meanwhile, Harry was wandering around the castle, trying to find that place to teach the other kids. He was very depressed over the news he had learned from Dumbledore. He had thought of the man as a grandfather, but to find out that he had been duped so badly, that hurt. He finally stopped looking for a place and slumped against the wall and put his hand in his head and just thought over the matter.

Was Sirius, right? Was it just Albus Dumbledore's type of personality? Was Harry Potter just a pawn? Or a knight? Could he blame a man for being just himself? Was it Harry's own fault for just hanging on to somebody and thinking of him as a grandfather when it was not the man's fault for him being that way? Harry didn't know the answer to these questions, they just kept running around and around in his head. He wished Hermione was here, so he had somebody to talk to.

"Why is Harry Potter, sir, sitting in the hallway like this?" Dobby asked as he popped in.

"Dobby!" said Harry as he jumped up. He hadn't heard the elf pop in. "What are you doing here?" He asked.

"Dobby is being hearing from Harry Potter's Wheezy that you is being looking from someplace to be teaching the other children's," the little elf said, bouncing on his spindly toes.

"That's right. Do you know of a place?" Harry asked, more than happy to get away from his thoughts.

"There is being the Come and Go Room," Dobby said, proud that he had a place for his Harry Potter.

"What's that when it's at home?" the teen asked, wondering why he was telling him about it.

"It is being anything yous wants it to be," Dobby said, making mystical gestures with his hands. "It can also bes hiding you if the bad guys comes to the castle," he added, thinking of the smaller children.

"This sounds like a very magical room. Let's go check it out," Harry said, also thinking of those that can't fight.

"Dobby will be taking you there right now," the house elf said, turning and leading the way.

With that, the two of them took off to the seventh floor to go and check out the Room of Requirements. Who knows what they would find there.