Irredeemable

"Polyjuice Potion would have worn off by now. We've checked for every single appearance-altering charms that we know of, and he's not under any of them. He must be who he claims to be."

"Yes, but the question still remains: why would he escape now? Voldemort had no reason to keep him alive, and yet here he is before us. I know that he has a knack for surviving when he shouldn't, but this is pushing things."

Harry dimly heard the voices and struggled to open his eyes. He felt like he had been kicked by a hippogriff. His vision was blurry, and he barely managed to focus on the three figures before him.

"Professors!" he cried. "What's going on?"

"Where have you been, Harry?" Dumbledore asked in a brisk, almost pleasant voice. His tone, however, had a hard edge to it that he tried hard to keep hidden.

"I've been Voldemort's prisoner, and I only just managed to escape and-" He tried to lift his arm to brush his fringe out of his eyes and found that he could not. He attempted to move his arms again and found himself struggling against firm bonds. "What's this about?"

"Harry, we need to know exactly what happened."

"Why am I tied up? I haven't done anything!" Dumbledore and Snape looked at him as if he was an idiot and McGonagall studied the floor intently. Suddenly, everything clicked. "You think I'm a Death Eater, don't you?" He choked on the words, disbelief liberally laced through them.

"Now, Harry-" Dumbledore began, raising one withered hand in a calming gesture.

"I've been against Voldemort for my entire life and all of a sudden you think I would just up and join him! Him and his stupid cronies beat me and tortured me. They killed my parents, in case you've bloody forgotten!"

"We are aware of that, Mr. Potter," Snape retorted snarkily. "The fact remains that you have shown up in rather suspicious circumstances. Why would the Dark Lord suddenly relax enough to allow you to escape after you've been his prisoner for a month?"

"I don't care why, the fact is that it happened."

"Surely you must understand that we are only being appropriately cautious," McGonagall half-begged. "There are too many uncertainties in these dark times, and we can only trust so much."

Harry felt white-hot rage begin to bubble in the pit of his stomach. His eyes grew dark and his expression hardened. "If, after all this time, you can't trust me, then I don't see why I ever bothered fighting for you in the first place."

Hogsmeade stretched out before him and he grinned at the thought of all of the foolish students who would be hurrying around in the bitter November wind, laughing and enjoying themselves. In the distance he could see the last of the group entering the outskirts of the village.

Harry set off quickly, eagerly anticipating his reunion with his "friends". No one paid any attention to the short teenager in the black robe except to flash him a welcoming grin. For a moment he was thankful for the harsh gusts of wind which forced most of the townsfolk to pull up their own hoods; it made the fact that he kept his face shadowed deep within his cowl only a matter of passing notice.

Soon he would have his revenge, he reminded himself. To be sure, the Dark Lord had commanded that he not actually murder anyone, but even with that rather disappointing restriction he still had plenty of room to deal with Weasley and Granger as he pleased.

A little girl was attempting to fly on a child's broomstick and losing the battle against the fierce winds. She was blown about wildly but she maintained a look of extreme concentration and refused to give up. Her pigtails blew wildly about her head.

She looked up and saw Harry, who pulled back his hood just slightly. She meeped quietly in sudden terror, forgetting that she was trying to fly. Suddenly, she was blown into a nearby tree, her skull cracking nastily. Blood trickled out of her nose.

"Bloody hell!" Harry cursed, rushing over to her and kneeling down beside her. "Please don't be dead, I only meant to scare you a bit!"

The little girl coughed and slowly opened her eyes. "Ah!" she cried, frightened.

"It's okay, I'm sorry to have scared you-"

"Don't kill me, Mr. Potter, sir, please don't kill me! I didn't do anything! Please, please!" Her piteous wails plucked at heartstrings that he had thought were long gone.

"I'm not going to hurt you!" he responded forcefully. The girl quieted, but the look of a cornered animal did not leave her eyes. "Look, I'm sorry. I'm not going to hurt you. What's your name?"

"T... Terra," she stammered, dark brown hair falling into her face.

"That's a pretty name," Harry commented gently, before grimacing. What was he doing? He was the Dark Heir and here he was comforting some child like... like a Gryffindor! Still, he could not help the way he felt. "Terra, you should get out of here, now. Don't tell anyone you saw me, just leave. It won't be safe here any longer. But don't worry, I'll make sure no one harms you."

"Really?" she asked.

"Really," Harry answered, smiling slightly in response to her own slight grin.

"Oh, thank you!" Terra cried, launching herself at Harry and wrapping her arms around his neck. "Mummy said you were a bad man, but I don't think you're that bad!"

Harry stiffened at the sudden hug, but relaxed slightly, patting her on the back. "I am bad, Terra. I'm just not a monster." The girl looked confused but Harry pried her off of him and set her down. Without a backwards glance he set off towards the milling groups of Hogwarts students.

Terra would not understand until much later what he had meant, but she would remember her encounter with Harry Potter for her entire life. She would be one of the few to ever understand him.

Ron and Hermione scurried through Hogsmeade, heading for the Three Broomsticks where they could escape from the cold. Neville and Ginny had promised to meet up with them there, though Hermione privately suspected that the two would forget and spend the afternoon snogging in some secluded corner of the town.

Hermione shivered as a freezing gust of wind cut through her cloak and caused goosebumps to form on her skin. Ron, seeing the motion, wrapped one arm around her shoulders. Although his body did not have much heat to give, she still appreciated the gesture.

She sighed, leaning into the embrace. "Why did things have to end up like this, Ron? The world's crashing down around us."

"It's all his fault. In the end, it all comes back to him." Ron's voice was bitter.

"But what happened to him, Ron? What did we do wrong that made him into that monster?"

Ron stopped suddenly, whirling Hermione about until she stood in front of him. He placed his large hands on her shoulders and looked at her intently. "It's not your fault Hermione; it's his. It was his decision to turn Dark, and you had nothing to do with it. You can't keep blaming yourself for what that monster does."

Hermione was just about to reply when a cold voice cut in. "You think I'm a monster?"

"Harry!" Hermione wailed.

"You stay away from her, you bastard," Ron warned, drawing his wand. Harry ignored him and walked slowly towards Hermione. "Get back! I'll hex you."

Harry stopped his approach. "As if you could do anything to me, Weasley." His pale face twisted into an ugly sneer. "Or are you forgetting when you tried to curse Draco in second year? Do you really want to burp slugs again?"

"My wand was broken and you know it!" Ron snapped, face flushing crimson in remembered embarrassment. "And it's Draco now, is it? Why didn't you just take his hand when he offered it to you? You would have saved us all a lot of trouble if you had just revealed yourself as a traitor then."

"You should not talk about things you don't understand, Weasley; it makes you look even more foolish than you already are." Ron coloured again, but this time he could not find a retort.

"Stop it, Harry! Stop insulting him!" Hermione stomped one foot against the ground and planted her hands firmly on her hips. "He's a million times better than you are."

"Why is it that he can call me monster and bastard and yet I can't call him a fool?"

"Because he's not some traitorous git, that's why!"

"I was the one who was betrayed!" Harry roared, startling Hermione, who jumped backwards. "I finally escape after having been tortured for an entire month, and everyone just jumps to the conclusion that I must be a Dark Wizard. I spent over a decade fighting against Voldemort, but apparently my actions were still suspect!"

"You had the Dark Mark!" Hermione argued, eyes narrowed the way they always were when she had to point out something painstakingly obvious.

"I didn't ask for the bloody thing to be put on my arm! At that point I still believed, mistakenly, that I had friends who I should be trying to protect."

"Everyone knows that you can't get the Dark Mark unless you want it! You had to have wanted it, otherwise the incantation wouldn't have worked."

"Stop trying to trick us with your lies, you filthy Death Eater scum!" Ron added, eyes stormy with rage.

"Maybe that's how it works with other people, but I've always been an exception, now haven't I, Granger?"

"You can't break rules of magic. That's like flaunting gravity." Hermione, despite her brilliance, was still too much of a scientific thinker to realise that some things could not be explained simply, if at all.

"This cut on my head is more than just a scar. It's a direct connection to Voldemort, or have you forgotten?"

"What does that have to do with this?" Ron asked obtusely.

"Figure it out for yourself," Harry responded irritably.

"You can't just not tell us!"

"I can and I will. Or are you forgetting who I am now, who you made me become? I am the Heir to Lord Voldemort, and his servant. I don't have to do anything a Mudblood like you tells me to, Granger."

"Take that back!" Ron and Hermione both shrieked together.

"When are you two going to realise that you are not dealing with some little schoolboy pest?" Harry wondered aloud. "What do I have to do to show you that this is no joking matter?" He grinned, showing two rows of white teeth. "I know! I'll have a little fun. Crucio!"

Harry had intended for the curse to hit Hermione, but Ron jumped in front of her at the last second, saving his girlfriend temporarily, but cursing himself. The redhead's screams ripped through the air. Although before the passerby had thought that the three were merely having a common juvenile spat, the introduction of one of the Unforgivables drew their attention.

"Death Eater!" they screamed. The more sensible ones rushed indoors, perhaps to make an emergency firecall to the Ministry, while others stood around gaping. A few fools drew their wands, but as soon as they began to wave them about Harry disarmed them without even looking in their direction.

"Bloody hell!" they cursed, staring at the boy in fearful awe. All of them were secretly doubting that anyone, even the right hand of You-Know-Who himself could be that powerful.

Aurors in swirling white robes began to Apparate onto the wide avenue, wands pointed at Harry, who merely smirked mockingly. "I was wondering when you would show up. Now my fun is truly about to begin."

A mile away from the village of Hogsmeade, Albus Dumbledore was jarred from his deep study of an ancient scroll by the loud wailing of an dark magic sensor. Checking in with the Hogwarts wards instinctively, he was relieved to note that nothing was wrong within the castle. He then began to systematically check through the various locations where he had alarms set up, and it did not take him long to find the source.

"Merlin," he breathed, rubbing his long white beard worriedly. "The students will have almost no protection, and they are unprepared. We had no warning of this attack."

Dumbledore sprang into action with the speed of a much younger man. An alarm was raised that would immediately alert all the teachers of the emergency through their connection with the school. Within five minutes every single professor, including Trewlaney, was assembled just inside the entrance to the school.

A few second years looked at the teachers suspiciously but continued on their way after noticing looks that promised long hours of detention if they were disturbed. "Hogsmeade is under attack by Death Eaters," Dumbledore explained quickly. "Although I don't know how many, I'd say there were at least a dozen by the sheer magical strength that is being detected."

"But Albus, the students..." McGonagall gasped, grasping the implications immediately. "We've got to go help them."

"And we shall. However, several of you must stay behind and guard the younger students. This attack, after all, could merely be a diversion to draw us all off from Hogwarts." Flitwick, Trewlaney, and the Muggle Studies professor volunteered and the rest set off for Hogsmeade, expecting the worst.

Dumbledore continued to brief them as they hurried along the twisted path to the village. "Aurors should already have arrived at the scene, but there are too few of them now to make much of a difference. We must protect the students at all costs!" The faculty nodded their heads in fervent agreement, drawing their wands as they finally rounded the last corner and entered the village.

The sight that met their eyes totally stunned them.

Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley were writhing on the ground, mute screams erupting from their mouths and bodies shining with sweat. Harry Potter stood over them, blocking the curses of three dozen Aurors and still finding the time to return a few curses of his own. No other Death Eaters were in sight.

A few of the professors let out creative explicitives that in any other circumstances would have sounded rather funny when coming out of such dignified personages. Given the situation, however, the crass words seemed entirely appropriate.

"Dumbledore! Professors!" Harry called out jovially, saluting them sarcastically with one arm while shooting the Killing Curse at an Auror with the other. "So nice of you to join the fun!" His green eyes were wide with sadistic pleasure and a satisfied smirk rested lightly upon his lips.

"Harry, please, stop this now," Dumbledore commanded gently, persuasive magic lacing his words. To his surprise, Harry just laughed, not even faltering.

"Those mind tricks may have worked on me when I was an ignorant fool, Dumbledore, but I'm beyond your power now. I've surpassed you in every way imaginable." To prove his point he downed five Aurors in a matter of seconds. Despite the amazing use of magic, he did not even appear slightly fazed.

"Harry, I am going to have to take you into custody until the Ministry can deal with you. You will undoubtedly be sentenced to life in Azkaban, but because of your youth, you may escape the Dementor's Kiss. However, if you turn yourself in, you could save yourself."

Harry chortled. "The threat of the Dementors is pointless, Dumbledore. I can control them easily. And your Ministry is far too busy with its own problems for them to hold a trial for me. And you're assuming that you could capture me."

"You are underestimating the powers of the Light side, Harry. You are far outnumbered. Besides, do you really think that you can defeat me when I have known you for most of your life?"

Harry laughed again, and this time it was almost identical to Voldemort's mirth, although in a lower pitch. "You created me so you can destroy me, right Dumbledore? Well, you may have created a heroic figurehead to place at the head of your army and stand for the light, but I turned from that path a long time ago. You don't understand me or know me any better than that idiot Fudge did when I was still in school."

"Harry, if you would just listen-" Harry cut the wizened old wizard off sharply.

"No, you listen, Dumbledore. I am not your 'precious Potter' or your 'Gryffindor Golden Boy'. I realized the sheer stupidity of those roles a long time ago. You think I didn't notice in fourth year when you looked relieved when I told you that Voldemort was resurrected? I may not have gotten it at the time, but I figured it out soon enough."

"What are you talking about, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, trying to remain calm, but his trembling voice betrayed his sudden nervousness.

"You needed Voldemort to come back, didn't you Dumbledore? I'm sure you could have stopped Crouch at any time, but then Voldemort wouldn't have been able to come back as easily. Without Voldemort, the publics opinion of you was beginning to wane. They were beginning to realize that perhaps Dumbledore wasn't the great hero they had always thought him to be after all. But with a clear opposition, you could once again unite the Wizarding world behind you to fight a common foe."

"Harry..." Dumbledore growled.

"Ashamed of what you did? I would be if I were you. You're worse than me, Dumbledore. All I'm doing is seeking revenge against those who turned against me. You, though, you started a war to increase your own power base for no other reason that you had grown comfortable in your role as benevolent hero and you didn't like it when the masks of lies began to be stripped away."

The last of the Aurors fell lifeless to the ground as Harry locked eyes with Dumbledore, silently daring him to deny the seemingly ludicrous charges. "Go ahead, tell them all I'm lying," Harry urged. "That's what you're about to do, isn't it? Then you'll tell them how I'm mentally unstable, reminding them of all those ridiculous visions and panic attacks I've had over the years, won't you? So go ahead, Dumbledore, we're all waiting." Harry crossed his arms across his chest and shifted his weight from side to side impatiently.

Dumbledore gaped at the young man. Harry had grown impressively intuitive over the past year, to have determined all of that. Dumbledore found himself unable to say a single word in his own defense.

"Why aren't you saying anything Dumbledore? Could it be because it's all true?" Harry pressed eagerly.

"Everything I have done has been in the best interests of the Wizarding community," Dumbledore finally ground out.

"Sure it was. Which is why you always made sure that the interests of the Wizarding community always ran parallel to your interests."

"Harry, we do not have the time to stand here bandying words about all day. Now I insist that you release Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley from the Crucio curse and surrender yourself to us."

"No," Harry said simply, voice firm with conviction.

"Very well then," Dumbledore responded with an air of feigned sadness and regret, motioning for the teachers to begin the attack.

Draco finished instructing the Death Eaters assembled in the Dark Lord's throne room, though his thoughts were secretly with Harry. He hoped that the shorter boy was okay and that he did not allow himself to become too irate over the idiocy of Dumbledore and his Muggle-loving cronies. When Harry was angry, things tended to explode and his magic tended to do unpredictable things. Although the thought of a pink skinned Dumbledore complete with flashing neon purple hair and a ballerina outfit was appealing in a twisted sort of way (though the mental image repulsed him), Harry took weeks to calm down.

"You will go forth and conquer the Ministry," the Dark Lord was saying. "Succeed and you will be well rewarded. There is no room for failure. We are close to our complete victory, my servants. Soon the world will be held firmly in our hands and we will expunge the filth that is Muggles and Mudbloods from it forever."

Cheers erupted from the crowd, but Voldemort quieted the group with a few lazy gestures. "Tonight is one of the last stages of the grand plan. By tonight, almost all of Britain will be under our direct control. From here, the world will soon fall."

This time the group of loyal followers began chanting loudly, promising the downfall of the Ministry and the rise of Voldemort in its wake. The room was blazing with emotion and firm belief in the ideas that Voldemort preached. Electricity seemed to spring from one person to the next, firing up their minds and encouraging their fervor.

Draco reveled in the torrent of emotions rolling off of the crowd, feeling their eagerness and sense that they were about to accomplish something which would set them apart and earn them their place in history. He felt much the same way, but his joy was dampened by Harry's absence. harry should be there to share this with him.

Although the reasoning of the Dark Lord for their separation was sound and Draco was intelligent enough not to argue with his master, it did not stop him from regretting that the action was necessary. So he only half-smiled and did not join in the frenzied chanting and clapping and stamping of feet.

The din was reaching almost unbearable levels before the Dark Lord quieted his followers once more. "You will have plenty of time to celebrate after you have won," he reminded them lightly, "but for now you have a task to accomplish. The Ministry may be foolish, but there will still be some opposition. You, my Death Eaters, are easily up to the task."

More cheers, this time in favor of the Dark Lord's favourable opinion of them. "Master!" they called out, prostrating themselves in front of Voldemort. Though their masks hid their faces Draco could easily identify each one from the way they moved. Surprisingly, his father was near the back of the group, among those who had not been in favour with the Dark Lord recently. He frowned for a minute, considering the matter, then promptly dismissed it, vowing to find out what was going on a t a later, more convenient time.

Voldemort smiled down at his followers almost fondly, before dismissing them all. The group bowed to the Dark Lord before Apparating away, Draco leading them.

The Ministry of Magic swirled into existence in front of him. Already dozens of Ministry workers were rushing out of the exits in an attempt to escape the vicious attacks of Death Eaters from inside the building. However, they only met with the recent reinforcements.

The Ministry of Magic employees were effectively trapped, and the slaughter began.

"What do I have to do to prove to you that I'm not a Death Eater?" Harry demanded furiously after long hours of intense arguing. His eyes and mind were dull from the effort and all he wanted to do was collapse into the realm of well-deserved peaceful dreams.

"I'm afraid that we simply can't trust you, Harry," Dumbledore replied calmly, a hint of sadness in his voice.

"Why the hell not?" Harry's brow furrowed darkly and his ebony eyebrows drew together to mask his face in fury, hiding the hurt that he felt inside. He was being betrayed by the man he had trusted with everything!

"The circumstances of your arrival are rather suspicious, as you yourself must know. No one has ever before managed to escape from Voldemort's inner sanctum, and yet you show up on the Hogwarts grounds claiming to have done exactly that. It is clear that you must have been allowed to escape."

"I don't care if I was allowed to escape! What does it matter? All I can tell you is that I'm not a Death Eater."

"Harry, you must admit that there is no reason for us to believe you," McGonagall reasoned, shaking her head back and forth, almost as if she secretly wished he were telling the truth.

"You don't understand. This is why Voldemort sent me back! He told me you would react this way, especially when you saw the-" Harry promptly cut himself off, mentally smacking himself in the head. Why did he have to allow his anger to control him? He had just handed them the evidence they needed to damn him!

"See what, Harry?" Snape asked in his silky smooth voice.

"Nothing!" he denied vehemently. "All I was saying was that Voldemort wants you to react this way, he's expecting it, counting on it even."

"Do you really expect us to believe that this is all some elaborate plot to turn your friends against you so that you in turn will turn against them and join the Dark Lord?" Snape sounded incredulous, and his black eyes spoke volumes about his confidence that this was the case.

"Yes!" Harry insisted doggedly.

"What is it, then, that we are supposed to see?"

"I told you, it's nothing!" A panicked edge crept into his voice and betrayed his falsehood.

The Dark Mark began to burn around the edges, causing Snape and Harry to wince in pain. Harry's right hand drifted to his left forearm subconsciously and he began to rub the irritated skin. Snape caught the motion and darted forward, snatching at his arms.

The sleeve of his robe was roughly shoved back, revealing the Dark Mark that glowed darkly against his pale skin. "I didn't want it! Voldemort just put it on me!" Harry told them, but even McGonagall's eyes were cold and disbelieving.