Tommy Boy

Earlier that same day

#12 Grimmauld Place

Dumbledore looked at the assembled members of the Order, including the two most junior members, Ron and Hermione, who were there in spite of Ms. Weasley's protests. "My sources tell me that Voldemort intends to attack Azkaban tonight, to free the Deatheaters imprisoned there..."

"Potter!" Ron spat. "He's going to release that filthy traitor!"

"I understand that is his intention among other things." Dumbledore told the assembled group. "It will be one of our objectives tonight, along with fifty ministry Aurors, to stop them and capture as many Deatheaters as possible. Our main objective is going to be to prevent Voldemort from getting his hands on Potter."

"Even if we must kill him?" Moody wanted to know.

Dumbledore's mind wandered back for a moment to the first time he'd seen the wide-eyed innocent Harry Potter enter the Great Hall over six years ago. Then his mind just as quickly jumped to the scene of he and Fudge bursting into a third floor room to find Potter standing over the body of Neville Longbottom, wand in hand.

He and Fudge had been discussing the progress that had been made in readying the wizarding community to defend itself against Voldemort, when Percy Weasley had burst into his office, looking pale. In panting breaths, the Minister's assistant had told them he just heard someone use the Killing Curse in the third floor corridor on the right side and what sounded like a body hitting the floor.

It had certainly been a good thing that young Percy had been wandering around the castle that day, reliving old memories and heard Harry cast the Killing Curse, otherwise the boy might have made good his escape.

Dumbledore had stood there staring, wanting to deny the evidence of his eyes, but he couldn't. Harry was there, standing over the body of the only other possible person who fit the prophecy. And when Priori Incantato had been done, it showed the last spell cast by his wand had been the Killing Curse.

Fudge, who was very prone to leaping to the conclusions he wanted to believe, had none-the-less, in this instance been right. Harry Potter had killed Neville Longbottom. How could he have been so wrong not to see this coming? Neville's death had to be in repayment for the Dark Lord's killing of Bellatrix Lestrange, a few weeks into the summer. The woman's mutilated corpse had been found near Little Whinging in Surrey a few weeks after the term had ended.

When he'd originally heard about her death, Dumbledore had thought it was Voldemort's punishment for her failure to get the prophecy, but now he was certain he knew why she had been killed. Voldemort had given Harry the revenge he wanted on Bellatrix for killing his godfather, in order to gain his loyalty.

The Headmaster hadn't wanted to believe that he had misjudged Potter that badly, but it was clear that he had. His attempts to mould Potter into the person he needed him to be to kill Voldemort had failed. Young Potter apparently hated him enough, for leaving him with the Dursleys, keeping secrets from him, and by his silence during Harry's fifth year, indirectly being the cause of his godfather's death, to join the person who had killed his parents in order to have his revenge.

"Dumbledore?" Moody's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Do we kill Potter, if necessary?"

Dumbledore looked sad as he nodded. "If it is the only way to keep him from rejoining the Dark Lord, then yes, kill him."

.....

Azkaban, the main hall

Dumbledore, the Weasleys, Hermione, and about half a dozen Aurors were all that remained of the force that had gone to Azkaban to try and stop Voldemort. They had been herded into the largest wardroom, where Voldemort and his Deatheaters waited. There were a few Deatheaters still out in the prison who along with the Dementors who had remained at Azkaban, were looking for Potter.

"We found him, master." A voice announced as two Deatheaters brought the unresisting young man into the room.

"Excellent!" Voldemort glided over to the unmoving boy, looking pleased. "Where did you find him?"

"Up on one of the turret walkways, just standing there in the wind."

Voldemort put a finger under Harry's chin and raised his head up from where it was looking at the ground. Dumbledore could see the lifeless eyes and the dull, uncaring expression on Potter's face and felt satisfied that at least this Deatheater would be of no use to Voldemort.

"Oh, how the mighty have fallen," Voldemort cackled. "And his condition is solely due to those on his own side."

"That's a lie!" Ron shouted. "Why are you pretending? We all know he joined you. He killed Neville Longbottom for you."

Voldemort pointed his wand at the gangly red head and almost lazily said, "Crucio."

Ron tried to resist screaming, not wanting to give him the satisfaction, but he quickly let out a shriek.

"Don't contradict me again, boy," the Dark Lord warned. "Potter never joined my minions, though we did want you to think that. Potter killed no one. He doesn't have it in him to kill, especially not a friend."

There was a pause as the remaining Order members and Aurors realised what Voldemort meant by his statements.

Their faces took on a look of a guilt as Voldemort added. "I had to remove the problem and you, Dumbledore and the Ministry very obligingly helped me. Thanks to you, your saviour is now a mindless idiot. One would have thought you learned your lesson after the first time, Dumbledore but you still view people as chess pieces to be discarded when they are no longer of any use or they no longer obey your orders. Locking up not one but two people in Azkaban who were innocent based on false evidence. If my sources are correct, Black managed to last here for twelve years, with at least some of his sanity intact. But the second, his godson and the wizarding world's only chance of defeating me didn't even last a year."

While Voldemort was gloating like some bad guy out of a muggle movie, Harry's eyes carefully noted the positions of the Deatheaters in the room and felt out the presence of the ones in the halls of the prison. He blinked his eyes once and all the Deatheaters in the room collapsed as if someone had thrown a switch shutting them off.

Voldemort fell silent, looking for the source of the attack then he started demanding, "Who did that? All Deatheaters to me!"

After enclosing Voldemort's body in an unseen, unfelt mental web, so that his soul could not escape again, Harry said in a very rusty voice, "I'm afraid they won't be able to answer you, Tommy boy."

Angry, Voldemort's attention returned to the Boy-Who-Lived and saw the eyes that had been empty, were now filled with emerald fire, though his face was still an expressionless mask. "So you are not quite as mad as you led the guards and everyone else to believe. Good I much prefer a challenge. It is a pity you won't join me, we could be great together, but having dealt with you a few times before, I know that you and I will always be enemies. Therefore you must be eliminated."

"I wouldn't be too sure of who is going to be the victor, if I were you." Harry countered, his gaze never wavering from the snake like face. "You see I have found that I can kill if given sufficient reason, and you, Tommy boy, have given me plenty of reason."