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Chapter 8 - They say you can't go back

Dumbledore shook himself, almost as if waking up. "Yes, well, that was quite impressive. Now, where have you been, Harry?"

"Mr. Potter to you, and none of your business."

"Harry, I must insist--"

"You may feel free to insist all you want, though you will only succeed in making yourself look silly. You are the headmaster of Hogwarts. You are not the headmaster of summer vacation."

There was a pause, during which Harry felt the touch of someone trying Legilimency on him. He could see the magical attempt coming from Dumbledore, just as clearly as if the old man were shooting colored steam out of his forehead. Harry knew that not only would the attack not get through, but it would also not encounter anything. Harry's new knowledge in both magic manipulation and Occlumency meant that a Legilimency attack would show nothing at all, as if Harry weren't even present.

The old man sighed. "Very well. With the time you have missed, you have alot of catching up to do. I'm sure the teachers will be willing to spend extra time with you, but I shall have to ask you to not leave the school." Trying to hand Harry a parchment, he said, "Here are your courses for the year. We will all work very hard with you to get you ready for... what's coming."

Still quite calm, with no more feeling showing on his face than that of a golem, Harry answered, "No. Hogwarts is reputed to be the best school of magic in the world. And yet, the only thing I have learned here of any use in my fight with Voldemort is the Patronus Charm, and you fired the gentleman who taught me that handy little skill."

"Erm, yes... well, you still have your NEWT-level classes to worry about. You have a lot of catching up to do."

"Why?" asked Harry, simply.

"Why what, Harry?"

"Why should I worry about catching up?"

"Well, didn't you say you wanted to be an Auror? Certainly your career prospects will be--"

"--either nil or unlimited, I'm quite sure," interrupted Harry. "If I destroy Voldemort, nobody will ask me how many NEWTs I have. I'll be able to take any job I wish, from Filch's to Fudge's, and a half-million people will beg to be the one to give it to me. If, however, Riddle puts /me/down, an epitaph of 'He died with his NEWTs on' isn't going to make it all better, now, is it?"

"I really think you should consider letting us help you get a well-rounded world view, for your life after the battle. I know I speak for all of us when I say that I hope you are victorious, after all." Dumbledore was trying to look grandfatherly again, and it would have worked if not for Harry's ability to see the steaming lies radiating from his aura.

"No you don't. Very little of the wizarding world cares whether I live or die, as long as I kill Riddle. So I shall work to that end. The battle with Voldemort will not be won by cheering charms, re-potting mandrakes, or feeding blast-ended skrewts.

"I shall discuss my class schedule with my head of house. She may tell you of my choices, but Icertainly shall not."

"Mr. Potter, I've had just about all I'm going to take from you," said the old meddler.

"Oh, terribly sorry headmaster; I didn't realize I was detaining you." Harry stood holding his staff, a veritable bulwark against which the waves of Dumbledore's attempts at coercion broke like waves on a prow. "You may, of course, leave any time you wish."

It took a few moments for Dumbledore to regain the power of speech. Had this insolent youngster just tried to dismiss him from his own office? "You-- Now..." he sputtered.

Harry's expression never changed, but this was the first time he had ever seen the old man rendered speechless. It couldn't last, of course.

"I am still the Headmaster of this school, Mr. Potter. I still have final say over the curriculum, and final responsibility for the safety and well-being of students under my care."

Harry's response was immediate: "Is Draco Malfoy still a prefect?"

"I don't see how that is any--"

Harry raised his staff and stabbed it back into the stone floor of the office. The entire room shook with a booming rumble, rattling items from shelves, and loosening plaster bits from the ceiling. "What are you afraid of? Answer the question, coward."

There was a quiet whimper in the corner, where Professor McGonagall stood, her hands still pressed against her mouth. Her wide-open eyes were shedding tears freely, now.

"Yes." A single word, but Harry could tell how much it cost the old fraud to admit it.

"Then you're a lying, double-dealing old phony. You put a Death Eater in charge of students in their own bedrooms. You put a murderer/and a /supporter of Voldemort into a position to influence the minds and development of over a hundred young minds. Where is your phoenix?" Harry looked around, emphasizing his point. "How long has Fawkes been gone from your life? You have endangered the lives of defenseless 11-year-old children, just so you could keep playing your sodding games, you disgusting faker!"

"Do you really think you can leave this school or this room, if I don't wish it?" Dumbledore began to rise to his feet and losing his temper.

Excellent,thought Harry. Exactly what I'd hoped to hear. He's just exposed his perfidy to McGonagall, far better than I ever could. "Oh, Albus..." Harry heard her say, just before the young student Disapparated.

Harry had planned for this, having anticipated much of the conversation he'd just had. With his ability to mold and shape magic directly with his mind, manipulating the very fabric of magic around him into doing almost anything he could want, he could very easily have just slipped between the wards and left the grounds -- the same way he had entered earlier. That method, however, would not have had the impact desired -- the impact needed to deal with a bully.

Instead, he gathered magic around him. It required power beyond what had been seen in living memory, or probably even in recorded history. The power was there, available to anyone with a mind trained to see it, and took no more energy from inside Harry than he would expend in scratching the end of his nose. Layers upon layers of wards, added by countless people for over a thousand years, visible to Harry in all colors and some that defied description. He carefully chose eight ward layers to upset. Slipping around all the rest, so as not to leave the school unprotected, he blasted through those eight wards and disappeared.

Standing just outside the front gate of the Hogwarts grounds, he could see the effects his violent movement had caused. The school was still extremely well warded, but he could hear the alarms. Two sirens, three repeating gongs, a bell like a fire alarm, the sound of trumpeting elephants, and a good old-fashioned"a-woo-ga" klaxon. Because of the violent disruption of very old magic, tremors went through the entire castle like a low-level earthquake, which lasted for exactly seventeen seconds.

When everything had died down, he slammed and crashed through the same wards again, then stood in Dumbledore's office waiting for it to die down a second time.

Holding his hand in front of him, palm up, Harry caused a green flame to appear in the air over it. Magically identical to the flame caused by floo powder, he had effectively conjured the functional equivalent of a cell phone. "Ministry of Magic, Department of Magical Law Enforcement," he spoke clearly.

"DMLE, Johnson," came a bored voice. "How can I help you?"

"I need a team of aurors at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, to arrest an abusive, violent person who has attacked an unarmed student in front of witnesses. I'm sure the school headmaster will admit them through the floo in his office, if you desire to use it."

Looking at the face in his own floo and seeing the famous scar, Johnson murmured to himself at a level he thought was inaudible. Harry heard something like, 'Well, bugger me with a fish fork!' "Right away, Mister Potter. We'll have a team there in half atick." Johnson signed off, and Harry allowed his hand-floo to extinguish.

He stood with his eyes closed, leaning on his staff, breathing steadily, waiting for the aurors. His knee was hurting him something fierce, and would have been debilitating had he not been ignoring it. He wanted to sit in a nice hot bath for a while, but knew his personal position was stronger if he remained standing, just for a little longer.

In under two minutes, the floo roared its green flame, and two figures stepped out; Tonks and Shacklebolt. I might have known, Harry thought. Intending not to give them time to protest, he began to speak with authority.

"Perfect," Harry said. "Just in time to witness the beginning of the dissolution of the Order. Aurors, I am pressing charges against Severus Snape. He drew his wand and attacked an unarmed student in front of witnesses. He is a violent, bigoted Death Eater, and carries the Dark Mark. You may now do your duty."

As Harry expected, both of them started yelling at once; Shacklebolt with the predictable 'now wait just a minute', and Tonks equally predictable with the'where the hell have you been'. He didn't let them talk for very long before gesturing, magically silencing them both, so he could speak.

"Next time you ask a question, listen for the answer." Harry reached into his robe and pulled out a stone jar with a lid on it. "Do you know what this is? This is a solicitor's pensieve. It is used to preserve and display memories to be used as evidence in court. It cannot be subverted without leaving signs of tampering. I will use it to present evidence to Madame Amelia Bones of the assault."

Anyone watching would have said that Harry's voice dropped the temperature in the room to below freezing. "It is quite simple, really, Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt, Auror Nymphadora Tonks," looking at them each in turn. "I know the exact wording of the oath of office you took when you became aurors. You broke that oath by joining the Order of the Phoenix. You have achoice to make. You can do your job, right now, and obey your oath of office. Or, I can call Madame Bones, you can both be arrested and exposed as the subversive underground movement that you are, lose your jobs and any hope of getting another, and face charges of treason and being accessories to assault and battery.

"Please do not make the mistake of thinking this is a bluff. You may have ten seconds to decide." He waved to release them from the silencing spell, and waved again to release Snape from his spot on the wall, dropping him in a heap.

Grunting with the unceremonious impact, Snape said from the floor, "I'm not finished with you, Potter; we'll finish our business!" He was spitting the words so hard that little flecks of foam had formed at his lips.

Harry answered, "Good, that would be lovely. When you get out of Azkaban, you come right 'round and we'll have a nice little chat. Bye bye now," Harry waggled his fingers. "Bye bye."

"Professor Snape, you will have to come with us," said Shacklebolt. "Come along, there's a good chap, we'll get this all sorted out." He took Snape's arm and began to lead him out of the room.

Shacklebolt stopped in his tracks when Harry spoke again. "DMLE Code, Section 3.2.4, Paragraph b: Detainees under suspicion or investigation of a violent crime shall be restrained through use of manacles during any or all transport or transfer, regardless of exhibited demeanor."

Tonks just stopped and looked at him, having no idea what to say. Shacklebolt pulled out the anti-apparation manacles and buckled Snape's hands in front of him. Hanging a portkey on a lanyard around Snape's neck, the two of them disappeared. Tonks asked for Snape's wand and received it from Dumbledore, before portkeying herself out as well.

"You have until the end of November to find a replacement headmaster and resign. After that, I'm going public, and it's going to get very ugly. Legally... publicly... messily... ugly." The chilly tone of Harry's voice brought weight to his words. "I'll have no more truck with you, or with this office. I'm scraping your shit off my shoes." He turned and started walking to the door.

"Oh, and Professor McGonagall, could we meet tomorrow to work out a schedule for me? I'd like to spend some time getting back together with a few friends."

Seeing that both Dumbledore and McGonagall were dumbstruck, he stepped out without hearing a reply, closing the door softly behind him.

***

Walking toward Gryffindor tower, Harry had time to reflect on his little show. That went about as well as I'd hoped. This one's going to be harder, though. Rigidly keeping his mind 'apart', in his detached state, he continued his long walk to the tower, until he stopped in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady, who spoke to him.

"Good evening, Mr... Potter, isn't it? Looks like you've been eating well. Nice to see you looking so big and strong, young man. Shame about the leg."

Bowing as well as his gimpy leg would allow, Harry replied, "Thank you, and agood evening to you, madam. The password is..." he ruminated, pretending to try to remember, while he was actually scrying the ward work on the door. "The password is 'gillyweed'." The portrait swung open, and Harry stepped into the common room.

He stood in the doorway, not saying a word; just soaking in the feel of being back in the room he used to call home above all other places in the world. Having been gone for nearly six months, and having learned more in that time than others could in a very long lifetime, he would have felt very little other than a slight nostalgia -- had he been permitting himself to wallow in emotion.

As he expected, the moment he was spotted, the occupants of the room exploded into cacophony, all shouting and demanding things from him at once. Ron, Hermione, Seamus, Dean, Alicia, Parvati... Madness, this is. Almost every one of them is demanding something from me.

Where have you been? Why didn't you write? Why were you late for school? What's with Snape? Who do you think you are? Why do you have that cold look on your face? What--

Harry just stood there, not saying a word. It wasn't as if anyone would have heard him speak anyway, with the yammering of twenty or so mouths. He glanced back and forth, trying to look at whoever was speaking, but they were all speaking at once. Neville Longbottom walked up, pushed his way silently through the crowd, looked Harry in the eye and extended his hand to welcome Harry back, a smile on his face. He mouthed, "welcome back" in the noise, and then stepped away again.

Harry had planned on just waiting for the whole thing to run out of steam, hoping that eventually they would run out of breath and let him answer. But it was becoming clear that it wasn't going to happen that way. He gathered some magic and molded it around his voice to give it strength without shouting, targeted only at those who were shouting.

"Shut up."

The gaggle of noisy students was stunned for a short moment; stunned that Harry would talk to them like that, and even more so that they had each felt his voice vibrate within their bodies. Then they all started right back in, all at once.

"What the bloody hell--"

"How did you--"

"How could you--"

It wasn't enough, Harry could see. Okay, we'll play rough. He put more power into it. Still not raising his voice, but raising his magic until it blew his cloak around alittle, he said it again.

"Shut up."

This time, it was so strong that it made their bones vibrate, and rattled in their teeth like someone had grabbed them and shaken them.

"Just shut up. Why would you bother asking questions and then not listen for the answer? You claim to be my friends, but you don't back it up with your actions." He paused for effect, then spoke slowly. "Every single one of you shouters has stabbed me in the back."

That got their attention. I'm tired of taking their crap, and I'm not going to go hide and cry anymore. He turned and looked at their faces, staring hard, letting them see just a little bit of what they had done. "Parvati. Alicia. Seamus. Dean. Ron. Hermione. Every single one of you has betrayed me. Some of you more than once, whenever the newspaper tells you to. All of you know who I am, where I come from, and what I stand for. Tell me why I should trust you, or even speak to you." Adding magic resonance for emphasis, he said, "Go ahead, tell me -- I dare you."

Not one of them said a word, and not one of them could look at him. "Why, when you claim to be my friends, do you automatically assume I have done something wrong, again and again? No reason to leave? I had /every/reason to leave, and still do."

Investigating a mental tingle in his perimeter, he noticed that McGonagall was standing outside the portrait, listening. He looked around the group again. "Why is this the first time that Hermione didn't welcome me back to school with a hug?" She just stared at her shoes, shaking.

"Why, after I spent all last year tutoring and teaching you to defend yourselves on my own time, do you believe that I don't care? Why was Hermione the only one to write me a letter in the last six months? Why was Ginny the only one to actually welcome me back in the Great Hall, and Neville the only one in the common room?"

Now all the girls except Ginny were sniffling and beginning to cry, and the boys except Neville were shuffling their feet. Neville looked at him, nodding.

"Why did nobody bother to ask why I'm /crippled/and walking with a crutch? Why did nobody wonder why I didn't bring any luggage? And why does everybody get so upset when I ask why?" Now for the hard part, Harry thought.

"I know the answer to all of these questions. It's because you don't really give two fat pink FUCKS about me." Almost as one, they all jumped, having never heard Harry use language like that before. "Gryffindors are supposed to be known for their bravery. Real bravery, not just being loud and pushy. You craven little children have thought about no one except yourselves. Every one of you has used me as either a tool to get what you want or acuddly little toy that makes you feel good about yourself.

"Here's a little public service announcement: you don't own me. I don't belong to you, I belong to me."

Knowing he had the full attention of every person in the room, he used it for full effect. He held out his left hand and conjured a very large, heavy leather-bound book. "This is an English dictionary. It gives the accepted and official definitions of words for their use in everyday life." He dropped it to the floor, where it made avery loud thud in the heavy silence. "Look up the word 'friend' and grow a little shame, because you arse-clowns don't have a bloody clue what the word even means."

Looking at the only two students to treat him like a human being the entire evening, he said, "Ginny, Neville, thank you both for making me feel welcome. Good night and sleep well, my friends."

Ginny blushed, and whispered, "Good night, Harry." Neville just nodded gravely.

Harry turned and left, back out through the portrait door. He would not be sleeping in the dorm room this night. Before he even saw her behind the door, he said, "Good evening, Professor."

"Mr. Potter," she nodded, her hands folded before her. Harry regarded her, careful not to upset her; he could see that she was obviously distraught. "You have given us all... given me many things to think about tonight. To many of us, this challenges everything we held as true." She pursed her lips; this was very hard for her. "I know I have no right to ask, but would you be willing to help me to understand some things?"

"Certainly, Professor. Would after breakfast be agood time for you? Say, about nine o'clock in your office?" She nodded. "Good. Thank you, Professor. If you'll excuse me, I think I'll retire to my own home for the night." He bowed, respectfully, and transported himself discreetly to his home.

Professor McGonagall watched, agog, as Harry's physical presence dispersed like wisps of smoke until he was no more. The wards didn't make a peep.