Chapter 292: "The Order's Agenda and Confrontations Part -2"

"Wait," Dumbledore said, raising a hand. "Maybe we should all take a moment to—"

"No," Harry cut him off. "I've heard enough. This meeting was supposed to be about uniting against Voldemort, not chasing personal agendas against potential allies."

"Harry, please," Lily called after him, her voice trembling.

He turned back, eyes blazing. "What? Do you think I don't understand why Dumbledore wants to go after that wizard? I thought you, having grown up in the Muggle world with an open mind, would see what's happening here. Dumbledore, like most politicians and manipulators, can't stand people he can't control or who don't follow his ideas. Isn't that right, Headmaster?"

"Your perspective is clouded," Dumbledore said softly. "Your studies have taken you down a dark path."

Harry's eyes flashed angrily. "Oh, spare me the lecture. I've done my homework on you, Dumbledore. I know about your past—your early ideals with Grindelwald, your best buddy, and maybe more. Don't talk to me about right and wrong."

Gasps echoed around the room. Dumbledore's expression remained serene, but a shadow passed over his eyes. "I was young and made mistakes. I've dedicated my life to atoning for them."

"Have you?" Harry challenged. "Or have you just gotten better at hiding your true intentions? Manipulating events, and people—putting me with the Dursleys, arranging things at Hogwarts. It's all part of your big plan, isn't it?"

"Harry, that's enough," James said firmly.

"No, let him speak," Dumbledore said calmly. "If there are complaints, they should be heard."

"Fine," Harry said coldly. "Didn't you notice anything off about 'Moody' last year? A Death Eater was impersonating your old friend right under your nose. Either you're losing your touch, or you let it happen. Which one is it?"

A murmur spread through the room. Dumbledore's silence spoke volumes.

"You have issues with me, Harry," Dumbledore finally said. "I understand that. Maybe it's because my decisions caused you to have a rough childhood, and I'm sorry for that. But that doesn't give you the right to make false accusations against me."

"Believe what you want," Harry replied, his voice steady and filled with determination. "But understand this: I won't stand by while you try to hunt down someone who risked everything to save Charles. If you want to go after him, you'll have to get through me. I'll do whatever it takes to protect him. That's a debt the Potter family owes him."

With that, Harry let his magical power flow freely. The room seemed to darken, the air buzzing with energy. Everyone could feel his strength and a mix of awe and fear spread through the room. For the first time, Dumbledore truly felt Harry's power, and it was clear that Harry was nearly as strong as he was.

"You're strong," Dumbledore said quietly, his eyes locked on Harry's. There was no arrogance in his voice; it was just recognition of Harry's strength.

"Thanks to you, Professor," Harry responded, his gaze never wavering. "Because of you, I learned early what power means and what it takes to protect myself and others. I've trained for years to be ready. So, what's the Order's decision? Will you focus on fighting Voldemort, or waste time and resources trying to control potential allies?"

Sirius rose to stand beside Harry. "I'm with Harry on this. If the Order is more interested in controlling those who stand up against Voldemort than actually fighting him, then count me out."

"Sirius—" Dumbledore started, but he was cut off as Tonks also rose from her seat.

"He's right," she said firmly, her eyes blazing. "This isn't what I signed up for."

To everyone's surprise, Frank and Alice Longbottom stood up too. "We came back to reconnect with old friends," Frank said calmly, though his voice carried a sharp edge. "Not to join a campaign against those who might help us. We've learned the dangers of blind loyalty, and we're not going to make that mistake again."

Alice nodded in agreement. "Count me out too. If you think the Death Eaters who almost destroyed our family can be redeemed, then I don't want to be here."

Harry looked to his parents, giving them one last chance. "Well?"

Lily looked down at the table, her eyes conflicted. She couldn't bring herself to meet Harry's gaze, while James shifted uncomfortably beside her, trying to find the right words.

"I see," Harry said softly, his voice filled with finality. "There's nothing more to discuss. I'm glad I never tried to fix our relationship. If you can turn against someone who saved your own child so easily, then our values clearly don't align. Even after everything our family has been through because of Dumbledore's manipulations, you still trust him. I don't want to be associated with that kind of thinking."

"Harry, you don't understand," James began, trying to explain. "Charley needs—"

"There's no need to talk more," Harry interrupted, his expression hardening. "I understand perfectly well."

Dumbledore looked around the room, his expression unreadable, though there was a hint of sadness in his eyes. "May we still use the house as headquarters?" he asked, turning to Sirius.

Sirius crossed his arms, his expression stern. "Yes, but if you're going to put another Fidelius Charm on it, I'll be involved, or it won't happen. This is my house."

"I will consider it and inform you of my decision," Dumbledore responded quietly.

Without another word, Harry led the group out of the kitchen. As they walked away, the sound of renewed discussion followed them up the stairs, but Harry didn't look back. Some bridges, once burned, weren't worth rebuilding.

Outside, the cool night air was a relief. Harry took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions inside him.

"Well," Sirius said, trying to sound light-hearted as they walked down the empty street. "That was... eventful, to say the least."

"Yeah," Harry replied shortly, his mind still racing.

"How about a drink?" Tonks suggested, offering a small smile. "I think we all could use one after that."

"Agreed," Sirius said, nodding. "Leaky Cauldron?"

"Sounds good," Harry said, and they made their way to the pub.

Once they settled into a quiet corner of the pub, the tension between them started to ease. The Leaky Cauldron was busy, but their corner felt like a calm bubble in the middle of the noise.

Sirius looked at Harry thoughtfully, his eyes studying his godson's face. "You really let loose back there," he said, a hint of admiration in his voice.

Harry sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. "It's been building for a long time. Dumbledore needed to hear it. They all did."

"Was everything you said true?" Tonks asked gently, her eyes curious.

Harry nodded. "I've done my research. There's more to Dumbledore than people think—more than he lets on."

Sirius leaned back, looking thoughtful. "I've heard rumors over the years, whispers of things that never quite made sense. If you've found something solid, I want to know."

"Another time," Harry promised, his voice heavy. "It's a long story, and I'm not in the mood tonight."

They sat in silence for a few moments, each lost in their thoughts. Finally, Harry spoke again. "Do you think they'll keep using the house?"

"Probably," Sirius replied with a shrug. "It's too useful to give up. But I expect Dumbledore will want to 'discuss' the new terms with me."

Tonks grinned, her eyes twinkling. "And what about your dear Aunt Walburga? Are you going to let her stay?"

Sirius chuckled, a genuine smile spreading across his face. "Oh, she stays. I can't deny the Order the full Black family experience, can I? Let them deal with her screaming portrait."

They all laughed, the tension easing further. It felt good to laugh, to let go of the weight of what had happened, even if just for a moment.

Harry looked at both of them, his expression softening. "Thank you," he said quietly. "For standing with me tonight. It means a lot."

"Always," Sirius replied without hesitation, his loyalty clear.

"You're not alone in this," Tonks added sincerely. "We're in it together, Harry. No matter what."

Sirius raised his glass, determination in his eyes. "To facing the future on our own terms."

They clinked their glasses together, a silent pact formed among them.