Chapter 25: The Monster Within

"Hmfph."

Harry warily watched the nurse as she cast yet another diagnosis spell.

"Honestly I'm fine!" He protested weakly under her quelling glare.

"I'll be the one to determine that you are fine, Mr. Potter." The nurse said sharply.

He leaned further back into the pillow, hoping that it would somehow swallow him and take him anywhere but here. He was just released from here less than a week ago!

"Yes Madam Pomfrey." He replied dutifully, pulling the covers further up on his chest with a sigh.

A soft cough interrupted what would soon turn into a torture session.

The nurse and patient turned and looked at the third person.

"Seeing as Mr. Potter is not in any immediate danger, perhaps I could have a few minutes with him?" Dumbledore said lightly, looking over the top of his spectacles at the nurse.

Frowning slightly, Poppy grudgingly nodded her consent before leaving for her office.

Harry turned back to the headmaster. Albus gave him a slight smile before conjuring a comfy chair. He settled back into it, well aware of the boy's eyes on him.

"It is good to see that you are unharmed Harry." Dumbledore finally said as he reached into his robes and pulled out a small bag, "Lemon drop?" As Harry shook his head in the negative, Albus popped one of the small candies in his mouth, "Ah, I must say that the muggles make the most fantastic sweets. Wouldn't you agree?"

Harry nodded his head, "I'm particularly fond of Mars Bars."

The two shared a small smile before Dumbledore continued, "I know you may not wish to speak of your ordeal but leaving it until later will not make the telling any less painful, my boy."

Harry bowed his head slightly, before playing with a lose thread on the sheet.

"Harry?"

"Sir, a man I respected once told me that the truth is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with great caution." Harry said slowly and softly, glancing up he looked into the headmaster's eyes, "I understand what he meant. Therefore, I wish to proceed with caution." That said Harry once again drew his eyes to the sheet.

Dumbledore nodded his head, "A very wise belief Harry. However, I ask that you inform me to the best of your abilities."

The boy nodded his agreement.

"I suppose I should start with my abductor."

"Armando Balaz."

Harry glanced up at the older wizard. Dumbledore's expression was calm but his eyes were alive with intense interest.

"Yes and no, sir. The man that abducted me was known to us as Armando Balaz, but he was not Armando Balaz. I believe the real Balaz is dead."

Albus nodded his acceptance.

"On the day of the defense exam, Balaz approached me and informed me that I had a tracking spell on my person, something which he assured me was not supposed to be there. Fearing that the tracker was placed by the person who attacked me at the quidditch match, I allowed Balaz to remove the tracker and transfer it to a pendant I was wearing. He assured me that he would inform you of the tracker and suggested I keep the pendant in my trunk until he asked for it back. Now I see the error in that decision, but I trusted him, he was my professor…I never suspected…" Harry trailed off before speaking up again, "I suppose you placed that tracker on me, sir?"

"Indeed, I did. Fearing another mishap, I placed the charm on you. The charm would warn me if you were injured and inform me where you were. It was to ensure that I could reach you both quickly and efficiently if you were injured. I assure you that the charm was placed for your own safety."

Harry nodded his head, seemingly accepting Dumbledore's answer.

"And the reason you didn't inform me of the tracker?"

Dumbledore regarded him over his spectacles, "I can see my error in not doing so, but at the time I did not wish to trouble you. I believed informing you that I was fearful for your safety would only cause you undue stress and worry. I desired to keep that burden from you."

Harry looked up and studied the man. Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore…one of the greatest leaders the wizarding world had ever seen, but yet he was still a man…still fallible, still prone to errors and irrational emotions. The man had always seemed to have a soft spot for Harry Potter, past and future. Harry had often believed that the man had chosen the happiness of the many over Harry's own, but that decision tore the man apart. He was sure beyond doubt that if Albus was able, he would have lifted the burden of the prophecy off any innocent's shoulders and placed it on his own. That was just the sort Dumbledore was…for all the man's shortcomings he made up for it with his humanity and good intentions.

Albus must have sensed he was being judged for he stared quietly back, waiting for judgment to be passed.

After several minutes of silence Harry locked eyes with the headmaster, "Do not spare me on account of troubling my mind, sir. After all, who spares the great Albus Dumbledore? Who shelters you from burdensome thoughts? I do understand the beauty and terribleness of the truth, but it's preferable over the alternative. I, for one, do not wish to live in a glass tower, nor do I wish to be the one throwing the rocks. I believe we are alike in that respect, sir. We'd much rather be the ones rebuilding the tower after it falls. If we shall worry, then let us worry together."

Albus' eyes sparkled with respect and sadness, "Wise words once again, Mr. Potter."

Harry shrugged, uncomfortable with the praise from Dumbledore.

"You are uncomfortable with praise?"

He shrugged again, "It depends on what I am being praised for. Grades, manners, sports...I am comfortable being complimented on, but when I am complimented on insights and wisdom it hits me at the core. Being good at sports, getting good grades, and having good manners are things that describe what I do. My insights are usually reserved to my own mind; therefore, they are essentially more me than the things that describe me. You know, sir, 'I think, therefore I am.' My thoughts are in essence, me."

Harry blushed slightly and looked vaguely uncomfortable.

"René Descartes," Albus said with a smile, "I understand your meaning completely, young Harry. You are wise beyond your few years."

"I'm not a child, Professor. Age can not be measured in years but rather in experiences. I haven't been a child since the death of my parents, so please do not treat me as such. I've allowed you to do that for the past year, but I can now see that was a mistake on my part. I may act like a child when called to do so, but for the most part I'm far beyond childish. Just as you wear a mask, so do I." He let out a small sigh.

Dumbledore looked slightly surprised, "You regret placing your trust in me?"

"I have not regretted anything I have told you, but I do regret not asserting myself more." Harry admitted, "I generally rely on myself, sir. I do not like placing my troubles on others; it is one reason I try to act childish around my family. Not only because I do not wish to burden them but also because it is risky to do so."

"Then I am even more honored that you have entrusted me with your troubles." Albus said quietly.

"Honored is not the correct word, sir. It is me who is honored, for now I am in need of your wisdom." Harry admitted, continuing to play with the loose thread, "But first I'd like to ask you a question."

"Yes?"

"Do you believe a child bears the sins of its forefathers?"

Albus leaned forward until he caught Harry's gaze, "It is our choices and actions that we must account for, not the deeds of those who share our blood, for the family of humanity shares far greater ties than that of blood. So no, I do not believe the actions of the father are shared by the child. You are not your father, nor your grandfather, nor any other relative. You are you, and you alone decide your actions. You are whoever you wish to be, Harry. Do not let anyone tell you differently."

The boy nodded his head before replying in a soft voice, "I am neither my father nor grandfather, but you may change your mind once you find out why Voldemort kidnapped me."

"I will never doubt you because of your blood, Harry." Albus said equally as softly.

"Won't you? Not even when you look into my face and see him?" Harry asked sharply, his eyes narrowed, "You see both my grandfather and grandmother when you look at me, don't you professor? Tell the truth."

As he hissed the last sentence in parseltongue Dumbledore stiffened and flinched back as if he had been slapped in the face, surprise shown in his eyes.

"You seemed surprised, professor, but you really shouldn't be. You already guessed, if not knew, who my grandfather was…is." Harry amended.

Regret shone in the headmaster's eyes, "I wished to keep that knowledge from you as well, to spare you from this pain and uncertainty. It is not easy to accept the truth when it is something so hard to bear."

"But bear it I should." Was the almost frosty response, "So tell me, was he right? Do you hate me now that you truly know me for what I am? He told me that every time you looked at me you saw him. Is it true, professor? Do you see the monster?" Harry prodded in a cold voice.

Sadness engulfed Albus' face and he seemed to slump back into his chair and a long pause passed before he answered, "Physically, I see him in you, as I see your grandmother, but I do not hate you Harry, for you have shown yourself to be as far from Lord Voldemort as possible. You possess qualities in quantities that Lord Voldemort has never shown."

"How?" Harry croaked out, "How is it you can stand to look at me when you see that monster in my face, hear him in my voice, and watch him in my actions? You should hate and despise me."

"You are not your grandfather, Harry." Albus said softly, "It seems it is not I who needs to accept that but rather yourself."

"No one can ever know." Harry said sharply.

Dumbledore gave the boy a well hidden look of pity, "Not even your family, Harry?"

"Especially not the Potters." He demanded bitingly.

"They will not reject you."

Harry gave him a disbelieving look, "Why take the chance? Why subject myself to that heartache? They have every right to reject me. Especially James, he'll never understand."

"I see that I can not convince you otherwise." Albus finally sighed, sadness dimming his eyes.

"Professor, it's for the best, for them and for me." The boy murmured, glaring at the opposite wall.

"I disagree Harry, but will wait until you're ready to tell the Potters," Dumbledore nodded his head slightly before staring at him thoughtfully, "Will you share your stay at the Dark Lord's with me?"

Harry's face closed off and he turned away from the headmaster slightly, "There really isn't that much to share. I sat in a bedroom for days after Voldemort informed me he was my grandfather. I suppose he would have eventually found a use for me in a few more weeks. Instead I was stunned and left in a hallway by someone to be picked up by that woman," here he nodded his head at Dorcas who was lying three beds down, "then we portkeyed to a clearing where a mad auror attacked me before we found our way here."

Something in the boy's tone urged Dumbledore not to pursue the topic, so he simply nodded his acceptance before standing.

"A day will come when you realize that it does not matter what one is born, but rather what one grows to be." The old wizard said, before sedately walking out of the hospital wing.

Harry's eyes followed him the whole way until he disappeared from sight. With a sigh Harry leaned back into his pillows, and with a slight smirk on his face fell into some much deserved sleep.

He was awoken by someone running their hand through his hair. Cracking his eyes open he looked to his right. Standing there was his grandmother with a soft smile on her face, "Good afternoon sleepy head."

"Mmph" Harry replied before yawning widely.

Once he had settled down a bit he glanced to the window, thankful that the curtains had been drawn, "Don't suppose my waking comes with a breakfast too?"

She smiled lightly, "Of course it does. We were just waiting for you to wake up before we all headed down to the kitchens."

"We?" Harry questioned.

She moved to the left, revealing a seated James.

"'lo James."

The older boy nodded his greeting back.

Harry gave the Hospital Wing a cursory glance, noting that Dorcas Meadowes was already gone. He knew that healing broken ribs took longer than eight or nine hours so she should still be here.

He turned back to Mary, "You mean I am free from this place?"

Mary smiled at the hope and longing in his voice.

"Yes, Poppy said there wasn't anything physically wrong with you, but if you'd like to stay-"

She was interrupted as Harry quickly threw the sheets back and scampered out of the bed, "Where are my clothes?"

"I'm telling you Albus, the boy was glowing with golden light and the spells were just absorbed as they hit him. I've never seen anything like it. There wasn't a mark on him." Dorcas said with a light wheeze.

Dumbledore gave her another look, clearly asking, 'should you really be out of bed?', but she waved it aside continuing on, "I have no idea as to how he dealt with the Death Eater. After the light show I passed out and the next thing I remembered was awaking to Poppy's tender mercies."

"Would you please provide me a memory of the event?" Albus asked, and after she nodded, stood and retrieved his pensieve.

Once the memory had been placed in the stone basin Dumbledore turned back to his friend, "Dorcas, please at least go home and rest. Those ribs will take time to heal."

"You worry too much Albus. My ribs are absolutely-," she was cut off by another wheeze, "fine."

The headmaster shot her a disbelieving look mixed with worry.

"Fine! If you insist I'll take tomorrow off and rest."

Albus' eyes regained some of their twinkle, "Then I must insist."

"You are a meddlesome old man." Dorcas muttered, just loud enough for the said man to catch.

"As I've been told on many occasions." Dumbledore smiled serenely.

Dorcas rolled her eyes, "I suppose you asked Alastor for a memory as well?"

The headmaster smiled pleasantly, "Of course."

"Make me a copy." The woman replied with a smirk as she stood from her chair, "I can't wait to see the old dog manhandled by an eleven-year-old."

As the sun sunk low in the sky, the last rays of light shone brightly through the windows in the headmaster's office, casting shadows in the room. The light played on Dumbledore's face, making him look older than before, as the shadows lengthened hiding his usually twinkling blue eyes. With one last glance around the man plunged into the memory.

He landed gracefully on his feet in the large disused bedroom as Dorcas made her way to the door, pressing her ear against it to listen for movement. He studied the room in mild curiosity. Walking forward he perused the pictures, many of which were of the same man, at different stages of his life. The last one seemed to be taken when the man was in his forties, he and an older woman were sitting in some sort of old style car, smiling slightly at the camera.

"Tom Riddle Sr." He muttered to himself. The resemblance was glaringly obvious to both Tom Riddle Jr. and Harry Potter, if you knew what to look for in the latter. The man was dashingly handsome, with smooth brown hair, combed to the side neatly, high cheek bones, a thin nose and a tall muscular stature. He supposed one of the only physical traits Tom had inherited from the Gaunts had been the black hair and dark eyes. Riddle Jr. looked like a darker version of his muggle father, with few traces of his witch mother.

He moved around the room, studying it intently as Meadowes cast charms on herself. He ran a finger along the dresser, not leaving a trail in the dust, his eyes pursuing the content of the jewelry box and music box. None of the lockets, rings or broaches caught his eye, all seemed glaringly normal.

He turned around as he heard the door open, even under the disillusionment charm he could clearly see the woman. He sedately followed her out of the room, walking as he normally did. If she moved too far ahead the scene would pause until he caught up.

As she paused at the end of the hallway and looked around the corner, a paper airplane appeared out of the air, and jabbed her in the side of the head lightly.

Albus picked up his pace and was by her side as she opened the letter. He quickly scanned through it and then committed its content to memory. Now the boy's reluctance to speak of his capture made more sense, he may have been forced to do terrible things under the Imperius Curse. He'd have to have a talk with the boy later and assure him that anything done under the curse's effect was not the boy's fault. Dumbledore knew just how cruel Tom Riddle could be when he wanted something, and it now seemed as if he had attempted to break the boy's spirit, perhaps to sway him to his cause.

Interested, he watched as the letter crumbled to ash, before she dropped the pile of ash and the ash scattered on the floor. Well, that explained the first letter he received. It was a pity that a pensieve only allowed you to view a memory and not actually cast spells on objects to study. He would have to wait for Thanatos' next airplane letter to examine it for that unknown spell.

Once again, he sedately walked forward after Dorcas, easily keeping track of her as he took in the surroundings, looking for weaknesses that could be advantageous in the future.

"Who's there?"

The sharp demand brought his attention back down the hall and to his companion.

Harry Potter stood, his face cold and eyes hard as he stared at the spot where Dorcas stood. Albus frowned as the boy's expression reminded him of another boy's who had long since grown up. Could the boy actually see Dorcas, or had he simply heard her?

Dorcas let the charm drop and reappeared.

"Don't move or I will curse you." Disdain and detestation dripped from the voice.

Albus moved swiftly forward and examined the boy. The wand was held steady, and there was a cold glint in the green eyes, but nowhere nearly as cold as what Dumbledore had seen once before. The cut on the boy's cheek was still new, and the bruising still showed on his temple.

"You do not have to fear me. I'm here to rescue you. Your family sent me."

Harry's eyes narrowed and his grip tightened, causing his knuckles to turn white. Tension showed on the boy's face and he demanded sharply, "Prove it!"

Dumbledore closed his eyes in memory, as the demand resonated with the voice of another boy making the same demand.

"Show me your arm." The demand was equally as cold and biting.

Albus' eyes snapped open and he regarded the boy curiously, not many knew that the Death Eaters were marked, but if any boy should know it, it would be this one.

Harry seemed to deflate slightly when the arm was shown to be unmarked, "My family really sent you?"

He frowned slightly at the question; did the boy still doubt that the Potters cared for him?

"Yes. Come we must get out of here quickly." Dorcas said as she raised her wand. He frowned along with her sadly, as Harry flinched back.

"I'm not going to harm you. I just need to make us invisible. Here, hold my hand so I won't lose you." Dumbledore glanced around the hallway as Harry took the offered hand.

"Try not to make a sound, and don't let go of my hand, ok?" Dorcas asked.

"Yes, but don't you think-"

Albus didn't jump as the loud boom rocked the hallway cutting the boy off.

"Come."

He quickly followed them this time, wishing to observe the both of them. They quickly came to the stairwell that, as Dorcas said, wasn't supposed to be there. The troubling thing was how had Thanatos known about the addition that was missing from the blueprints? How did he know what to warn Dorcas about?

Albus felt a slight chill go down his spin. Was it possible that someone was spying on him? How else would Thanatos know? But it wasn't possible…Fawkes or one of the portraits would have seen someone bug his office, even if they managed to get past the office's defenses, which was doubtful. He'd have to check his office once he got back.

"Come on."

Once again he was following the disillusioned pair up the stairs and onto another unused hallway. Even if he hadn't been able to see through the charm he would have easily spotted them, as they left an obvious trail in the dust on the hardwood floors. He waited outside the room as Dorcas said that the Death Eater had blasted his way through the door before attacking them. Perhaps thirty seconds later a large cloaked man approached the door quietly, following the footsteps. Unfortunately, the man's face was totally obscured from sight. With a slight snarl the man blasted the door apart before jumping through, throwing spells as he went.

Albus, with icy eyes, followed slightly behind the man. The man jumped back and nearly went through his unseen observer as he dodged a curse. Standing straighter the Death Eater threw off a number of curses at young Harry. Dumbledore's face frosted over in anger at the severity and deadliness of the curses.

At first, when the curses hit the boy, nothing appeared to happen, but slowly the boy began to glow until he was gleaming brightly.

The Death Eater paused in shock. Harry's face was set in anger and annoyance. A red light shot out of the boy's wand and hit the man dead in the chest, blasting him off his feet and back into the wall.

Albus blinked in surprise at both the strength and the ferocity of the spell. Where had the boy learned the bone crushing hex? And wordlessly too! He looked on as Harry smirked, eyes flashing, and nostrils flaring slightly, while he waved his wand and a piece a paper appeared on the Death Eater's chest. Dumbledore moved forward and crouched in front of the Death Eater, looking at the paper. As the memory began to dim he stared in surprise at the sketch…a lion devouring a snake.

The memory ended and Albus found himself back in his office. The sun had already disappeared, and the moon could be seen rising in the eastern sky. With a flick of his wand, the wall lamps lit and a soft glow enveloped the room. He was troubled by many things that he had seen in the memory, but those worries were cut off as a voice drifted through his head. I'm telling you Albus, the boy was glowing with golden light and the spells were just absorbed as they hit him. I've never seen anything like it. There wasn't a mark on him.

Marked…light?

Dumbledore sat up straight in his chair, his head spinning as words and images flashed through his mind.

The lion of the earth has been born again,

Snake beware for revenge doth he take.

The sketch of the lion devouring the snake flashed in his vision.

Blood of the father and mother bend

Serpent and King unite in kith and kin.

'The Serpent—Voldemort, and the Lion—Cassandra? Slytherin's and Gryffindor's lines verging as one?'

The fight already won begins anew

'Perhaps an old reference to the fight between Salazar and Godric?'

With reprisal from the savior and By the One,

'Was this savior and One not one and the same?'

Death of the fiend be pursued.

'Harry was going to try and kill his own grandfather…'

Born to those now dead

'His parents were both dead, one by murder and the other by his own birth.'

Raised by those no longer

'His godparents raised him and they too are dead.'

He shall bring early justice

Before it's time, to the land of his kin.

'Justice before it's time? How was that possible? But the boy would succeed.'

Granted by Fate, chosen by gods

He will create a new age of wit.

'Well that did sound promising, an age of peace.'

The lion has come! Look for the one

Born of snake and marked by light!"

"Marked by light." Dumbledore breathed quietly, "Oh my poor dear boy."

He placed his head in his hands, "What have they done? You are but a child. What have they done!"