Why Should I?

BY Opopanax

A/n: Short one shot which I may or may not continue. If there's enough reader interest, I'll start at the beginning of fifth year and bring it all the way to the end of the seventh, if there is one. As per usual, I don't own HP. Spoiler's for books 1-5. Very cliche premise, I know, but I love it anyway.

Why Should I?

Harry watched dispassionately as Dumbledore made a portkey out of the disembodied head of the wizard's statue from the Fountain of Magical Brethren. It glowed with a blue light and rattled against the floor, then came to rest. Dumbledore picked it up and walked toward Harry, where he was leaning against the wall, carrying the head. He looked oddly gruesome, reminding Harry of that time three years ago when he and Ron and Hermione had attended the Deathday party.

"Now see here, Dumbledore!" said Fudge, as Dumbledore picked up the head and walked back to Harry carrying it. "You haven't got authorization for that Portkey! You can't do things like that right in front of the Minister of Magic, you-you-"

His voice faltered as Dumbledore surveyed him magisterially over his half-moon spectacles.

"You will give the order to remove Dolores Umbridge from Hogwarts," said Dumbledore. "You will tell your Aurors to stop searching for my Care of Magical Creatures teacher so that he can return to work. I will give you-" Dumbledore pulled a watch with twelve hands from his pocket and surveyed it, "-half an hour of my time tonight, in which I think we shall be more than able to cover the important points of what has happened here. After that, I shall need to return to my school. If you need more help from me you are, of course, more than welcome to contact me at Hogwarts. Letters addressed to the headmaster will find me."

-From Order of the Phoenix, chapter 36

Without saying a word to the Headmaster, Harry grabbed the head and felt it whisk him away by the navel in a swirl of wind and color. With a thump, he came to rest in the Headmaster's office back at Hogwarts.

Everything was back in place. It was as if the Headmaster had just stepped out for some tea. The silvery instruments on their spindle-legged tables whirled and tinkled serenely. The portraits of past headmasters snoozed in their frames. Harry went over to the window and stared out at the grounds. Dawn was coming, drawing a line of pink on the eastern horizon. He watched uninterestedly as a flock of birds flew out of the forbidden forest. He wondered if Hagrid's little brother had taken down another tree.

It all seemed so unreal, now. If the outside world were to reflect his inner self, the portraits would be screaming in agony worse than that inflicted by the Cruciatus Curse. The forest would be burning and the old castle crumbling like a sand construct.

Sirius. The only person who looked out exclusively for Harry, who wasn't a willing puppet of the Headmaster. Sirius was gone. Harry didn't blame himself. Oh, no. He knew exactly where the blame went for this one. But his loss still hurt. It hurt more than anything he could ever remember hurting in his life. And oh boy, would he have something to say about it.

Before he could ruminate further, the headmaster stepped out of the fireplace, brushing soot off his robes. A great many of the portraits cheered and welcomed him back, and one of them brandished his ear trumpet exuberantly.

"Thank you," said Dumbledore softly. He did not look at Harry, but strode over to the perch and took out the ugly featherless Fawkes and set him gently on the bed of ashes before settling behind his desk.

"Well, Harry, you will be happy to know that no lasting damage has been done by the night's events. Madame Pomfrey is patching everyone up now. Nymphadora Tonx may need to spend a little time in St. Mungo's but should be right as rain soon."

"Able to look at me now, are you?" said Harry coldly, staring right into the Headmaster's twinkling blue eyes. "Worth your notice again, am I?"

Harry was pleased to watch the twinkle die out in Dumbledore's eyes. "Harry, you must understand-"

"Oh, I understand all right," Harry said, still starin directly into his eyes. "You were afraid that old Tom would try to use me as a conduit into your mind, even though you're a master at Occlumency. Or at least, that's the reason you gave the order. What you were really trying to do was to make that link I have with Tom stronger, isn't that right? I wouldn't have you to rely on, which made me angry, which in turn made me more susceptible to Tom. That's what those Occlumency lessons-" Hary made air quotes "-with Snape were all about. Isn't that right? You wanted to make that link stronger."

"Harry, no! It wasn't like that," Dumbledore said, leaning forward on his desk.

"Oh, I think it's exactly like that. Thanks to your meddling, Sirius is dead. Or was that part of the plan too?

"No, Harry, it wasn't part of the plan, as you call it," Dumbledore said, looking tired. "I am as saddened by Sirius's loss as you are."

"Bullshit, Headmaster. I think you are quite glad he is gone. Because Sirius was the only person in your so-called order who looked out for me. He was the only person you couldn't control completely." Harry started pacing around the office, his hand gripping his wand and his magic flaring around him ina bright green aura.

"I've had a lot of time to think over the past year," he continued. I did a little digging, you see. I found out that it was you who cast the Fidelius Charm over my parents' house. Which means that you knew all along that Sirius wasn't the secret keeper. Once I found that out, I started wondering why you let him be sent to Azkaban. Care to find out what I think?"

Harry watched the Headmaster's face go white. Almost quicker than he could follow, Dumbledore's wand was up and pointing at him. "I'm sorry, Harry, but this is for the greater good. Obliv-"

"Expelliarmus!" Harry cried. He was glad he'd put in all that secret time this year, sharpening his reflexes and spell casting. Harry smirked as Dumbledore's wand flew out of his hand and into his. It felt even better than his holly one, but there was no time to think about that now.

"Now, as I was saying," Harry said, watching in satisfaction as Dumbledore's face grew even whiter. You let Sirius get sent to Azkaban even though you knew he wasn't the secret keeper and thus didn't betray my parents to Voldemort. So I asked myself, why did he do that? And I answered myself, why, because he needed me to be beaten down, as it were. Once I did a little more research, I found out about that prophecy.

"But you never left the castle," Dumbledore said weakly. Harry was pleased to note that he wasn't nearly so self-assured as before.

Smirking, Harry shook his head and pulled out a small hourglass on a chain. Dumbledore's eyes widened in comprehension. "I made a few friends this year. One of them got me this little time turner. With it, I learned a great many things. You'd be surprised what the goblins will do, for a small fee, of course."

"Now, as I said, I learned a great many things. Once I found out about the prophecy, they all came together. You had Sirius sent to Azkaban so that I could be sent to my loving relatives. Incidentally, Number Four, Privet Drive is, and never has been, my home." Harry watched as several of the silvery instruments tinkled and came to a stop, before crumbling and falling to the floor. Dumbledore's face was a study in shock and he gripped the edges of his desk with white-knuckled intensity. All his plans had just been chucked out the window. His weapon wasn't supposed to find out about anything this early.

"Yes, that took care of those wards. Now, you needed me beaten, meek and pliable. You sent Hagrid to collect me, because he was loyal to you, and could start me on a process of thinking of Gryffindor as the epitomy of virtue and Slytherin as the personification of evil. You gave him the task of collecting the Philosopher's Stone so that the seeds of curiosity could be planted early. You told Mrs. Weasley to be there at King's Cross to guide me to the platform, you told Ron to make friends with me to cement the Anti-Slytherin bias Hagrid had started. Hermione was a wrench in your plans, but you played upon her love of authority figures to spy for you, for my own good, of course. You set up those traps to play to our strengths, leaving me alone to face Voldemort, again. How am I doing so far?"

Dumbledore could only nod. "It was for the greater good, Harry. I only hope you can forgive an old man his mistakes."

Harry ignored this and continued. "Second year, I bet you knew Ginny brought that diary in to the school. I can't believe there aren't wards to detect dark magic. I'm not sure what you were thinking by letting it in, and I don't care. My guess is that once I saved her, you could get her to hero worship me and then maybe later try to get her to marry me so that they could get access to the Potter fortune. I already know you were paying them, payments which, incidentally, I stopped about a month ago."

"Now, third year was another wrench in your plans. Sirius escaped, came here to the school, and I found out he was innocent and who the real culprit was. No manifestations of Voldemort to face, it was a pretty tame year, actually. Then he escaped and you kept close watch on him, I bet, to try and keep him from communicating too closely with me. You needed your weapon under your thumb, after all. Fourth year, I refuse to believe that Barty Crouch Junior fooled you for an entire year. You, as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, could've called off the Triwizard Tournament and forced a redraw, but you let me compete. I bet you knew Peter would return to his master and they would try to do something to get him resurrected, but I have no proof. You weren't surprised at all when I came back, telling you that Voldemort was back. In fact, you looked oddly triumphant and not at all surprised when I told you he used my blood. I thought it was a trick of the light, but I wasn't wrong, upon later reflection."

"Well, Harry? What are you going to do now?" Dumbledore asked, looking oddly defeated. Harry didn't buy that look at all. He knew that as soon as he, Harry, left, Dumbledore would try to have him obliviated again so that his control would be reestablished.

Harry still ignored him. "I found out when I went to Diagon Alley this summer, after you're order dropped me off at Grimmauld Place, about all the money you stole from me. I had all the blocks you put on my magic removed by goblin healers, got this time turner so I could readjust to having access to all my magic, found out about the prophecy. This year was pretty hard, having to keep up a facade, but the sorting hat had it right when it said I could've been a good Slytherin."

"I am always right, Mr. Potter," the sorting hat said smugly from its shelf. And you would've made a very fine SLytherin indeed."

"Again, Harry, I ask, what are you going to do now? It appears that you have done a masterful job of trying to bring down all my plans. But Tom must be defeated, and you are the only one who can do it, as per the prophecy." Dumbledore sounded as though he got his spark back a little.

"Ah, I agree. TOm must be defeated." Dumbledore looked relieved. "But he was already defeated, don't you see, Headmaster?"

"No, Mr. Potter, I am afraid that I do not understand."

"I defeated him as a baby. The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies," Harry quoted. "Vanquish does not necessarily mean kill, you know. He was vanquished by me that Halloween night."

"But you are forgetting the last half, Harry," Dumbledore said. "And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not, and either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives."

"No, Headmaster, I wasn't forgetting the other half. I am just ignoring it."

"I am afraid I do not understand, Harry," Dumbledore said, frowning."

"Then let me spell it out for you, my dear Headmaster," Harry said, finally showing an expression other than cold impartiality. His eyes blazed at Dumbledore in the precise shade of the Avada Kedavra curse, and he smiled a chilling smile. "I won't do anything to stop him, Headmaster. Not a thing."

Dumbledore looked shocked. "But you must, Harry. You are the only one who can!"

"Why, Headmaster? Why should I stop him? Why should I lift a finger to stop him, when it was you who created him?"

"He killed your parents! He will kill countless others if you don't stop him, Harry. He will come after your friends, he will decimate the whole wizarding world."

"Again, why should I care? I have no memories of my parents. They were soldiers in a war, they knew the risks. And as for my friends, I have no friends. They were all bought and paid for by you to spy on me. They don't give a damn about Harry Potter, the kid who just wants a normal life. To them, and to you, I am just a weapon to be wielded against Voldemort and then probably killed by you so that you could take all the credit. What doors wouldn't be opened to the Great Albus Dumbledore, the one who mentored the-Boy-Who-Lived into defeating the Dark Lord and who died tragically defending the wizarding world? The answer is no, Headmaster. I refuse to fight for a world which has done nothing for me, for people who turn on me at the slightest provocation, for the people who left me to suffer in a cupboard for ten years without bothering to check on me. I refuse to lay my life on the line for you, Dumbledore. You caused this mess, you can fix it. The only person I possibly would've fought for, Sirius, is dead now, thanks to you. If your pet death eater hadn't oepened up my mind even further than it already was, I wouldn't have seen that fake vision and Sirius would still be here. Now, I have nothing worth fighting for any longer." And with that, Harry turned and slammed out of the office, leaving a weeping Dumbledore and a bunch of shocked portraits behind.