A/N: Since I don't have an update for Picture A Pirate or Eight Summers Time, and since it's my birthday and I wanted to give you all something, here's a second oneshot. This one's a little more violent then the other, but not really. Just a slight idea that didn't really develop enough to be more then a oneshot.

This actually came from my world history class a few months earlier, and just kind of hovered around until I actually wrote it.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter doesn't belong to me… sadly… give him to me, though, and I'll give you a birthday cupcake… And the quote in here belongs to (the dead) Machiavelli.

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The End vs. The Means

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Harry Potter stood before the doors to the Great Hall, resting one hand on the castle wall. Hogwarts sent a feeling of worry to him, concerned for his mental state. He waved the worry off with a thought as he remembered the last time he had walked through those very doors, five years ago.

…Flashback…

A fifteen year old Harry stood in the middle of the Hall, shaking with barely suppressed fury, and glaring daggers at the old man sitting at the head of the table.

"So that's all I am to you. A weapon made to destroy Voldemort. You don't care if it kills me or any of the others here." Albus Dumbledore looked incredibly weary.

"The end justifies the means, Harry. We have no choice." Brilliant green eyes spat fire at him.

"There's always a choice. You just don't want to make it." Albus was silent, and the boy sneered.

"Fine. I'll play your game—but I'll play it my way." He turned abruptly and stormed towards the large double doors, sending a quiet thought down the link that the castle herself had made. She swung the huge doors open in response, slamming them behind him. With a whispered word, his things slid to a stop before him. Moments later, with them shrunken in his pocket, he rested a hand on the wall. The last thought he sent seemed to ring in the air after he left.

'I will be back.'

…End Flashback…

Now he stood in front of those doors again, five years older. He tightened his grip on something in his hand and moved forward as Hogwarts opened her doors to him.

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The cheerful chatter of the students at dinner faded into silence as the doors opened. A tall man stalked in, one hand hidden in his cloak. He clothes, which looked Muggle under the heavy cloak, seemed to be all black. Two katanas hung at his side, next to several daggers. Three rings gleamed on his visible hand. Black hair, which was pulled into a short ponytail, was streaked with white, giving a sharp contrast. His eyes were hidden by dark sunglasses, making his golden tan look a little lighter.

There was a light hissing as a snake lifted its head from around the man's neck to look around at the students as the man stalked forward towards Dumbledore at the Head Table, ignoring the poisonous asp. Once in front of the wizened man, he sneered and revealed his hidden hand, dropping the burden on the plate in front of him. Pale white skin clashed with wide, terrified red eyes and the sluggish crimson blood that flowed out of Voldemort's neck—or what was left of it. Several students and teachers gagged reflexively at the sight of the Dark Lord's decapitated head. Hermione Granger-Weasley, sitting next to her husband Ron, gasped and turned faintly green. The cloaked wizard scoffed and sneered again.

"What was it you said, Dumbledore? Ah yes, I believe it was 'The end justifies the means'. An interesting philosophy, wouldn't you agree? Voldemort didn't think too highly of it when I tried to explain it to him, so I showed him, starting with the Death Eaters he foolishly kept around." He looked towards Dumbledore and raised one eyebrow. The man had paled after the quote had been mentioned. The man smirked.

"Cat got your tongue, Dumbledore? Ask your pretty kitty to give it back, and be quick about it, because I've only got a certain amount of time for you." Albus looked as though he had just gained 40 years. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, desperate.

"My boy… Harry…" The Boy-Who-Lived ignored the gasps that echoed after his name was said, instead yanking off his sunglasses. The asp's head swung around and they both glared at the old man. Harry's eyes were a cloudy green, the pupil's split into three small circles. Several scars crossed over and around his eyes. His voice was frozen.

"You lost the right to call me that five years ago, old man. I came here only to inform you that my job is done, I'm not your weapon anymore, and I'm here to fulfill a promise." He turned his back on them, turning his attention and that of the asp's to the link he had with the castle. A slow smile crossed his face before he faded into nothingness, the asp fading with the blind man. There was absolute silence in the Hall.

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Hundreds of years later, the ghostly form of Harry James Potter looked through the eyes of his asp, focusing on the boy, no more than twelve, that sat on the front steps of Hogwarts. He materialized with a smile, grimly thinking of his own past and what this boy's future would be like if he didn't interfere. One last thought crossed his mind before he spoke to the boy. They were wrong. The end does not justify the means, no matter how long the peace is.

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finite

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A/N: And the second one is done. Again, this isn't really developed, I just had this image of Harry looking like that and storming into the hall and spitting that phrase back at him. Machiavelli said the phrase "The end justifies the means", and we had several discussions on it in class. (Personally, I think it can be both, depending on the situation, but for this I wrote as 'against'.)

So… review and I'll give you a virtual birthday cupcake. Enjoy this present from me to you!

Kaaera