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Harry Potter and all of its characters belong to J.K. Rowling.
I own nothing but the original characters I make.
"Dialogue"
'Thoughts'
-Author notes-
Chapter 49: The Argent Flame
Harry observed the man lying on the ground as he struggled to move, but he felt no pity whatsoever towards this person, for he knew of the atrocities that his organization had been committing for over a millennium.
The raider lifted his head to stare at him, and despite his eyes being completely covered by those green-tinted glasses, Harry could feel the hatred in them.
The feeling was mutual.
"I suppose you won't tell me anything useful about that base of yours." Harry glanced at the helmet the raider was wearing. When combined with those glasses, it offered perfect protection against mental intrusions.
And if he tried to take it off, the helmet would trigger an electrical shock that would wipe out any memories from the soldier.
Not that this one had much time anyway.
Harry aimed his staff at him.
Blood poured from the raider's mouth. "L-Long live t-the… Argent Flame. Death t-to magic!"
Harry saw him pulling a small pistol from his belt. Before he had a chance to shoot, Harry had to act.
"Fulmen."
A bolt of lightning pierced his head, killing him instantly.
"Harry, no!" Dumbledore came as fast as he could. When he saw that Harry had just killed a person, the Headmaster looked horrified. "What have you done…?"
"What needed to be done. You can't reason with these lunatics." Harry observed the surroundings as if he were looking for something in particular. "They are basically cultists… all of them have been brainwashed."
"What do you… who was this person?" Dumbledore glanced at the dead man. Something caught his attention: the uniform he was wearing. "A soldier?"
As someone who had been present during the Second Great War, he was very familiar with military uniforms such as these.
"Yes, a soldier. And their army is trying to… oh, there it is." Harry found the rider's weapon lying next to the dead dragon's body. He approached and picked it up.
Dumbledore saw the bizarre rifle in Harry's hands. He would never imagine a wizard using such a thing.
"That is a muggle weapon… why wou—"
"Because that was a muggle." Harry stored the rifle inside his enchanted bag.
"A m-muggle?!" Dumbledore exclaimed. "Harry, that is impossible. Muggles cannot even see this castle, much less approach it. Some protections prevent such a thing from happening."
"And yet… here you have him." Harry walked up to the fallen soldier and pulled the strange glasses from his head before throwing them to Dumbledore. "They have gotten very creative to bypass our protections."
Dumbledore made a face of disgust as he took the glasses from the dead man, but his expression quickly changed when he saw the interior parts.
"Runes? This is… very complex work." There was a hint of admiration in his voice. "How can a muggle have something like this? The Ministry would have detec—"
"The Ministry of Magic doesn't even know this organization exists," Harry interrupted him. "Also, they rarely operate in Britain, so it's not strange that none of you ever ran into them. They have wizards and witches in their ranks. That's how they developed many of their toys."
He approached and took the glasses from Dumbledore's hands before placing them inside his bag.
Then, he turned around and aimed his staff at the body.
"Ignis."
A ball of fire landed on it and burned it to a crisp.
Harry saw the horrified expression on the Headmaster's face.
"They have traces in their bodies. I had to do that… otherwise your school was going to be getting more unwanted visits."
"Are you really… no… who are you?" Dumbledore finally asked.
"You already know that. I'm Harry Potter. Isn't that why you brought me here?" Harry shook his head.
"No… Harry Potter is a fifteen-year-old boy who spent most of his life living with muggles without even knowing that magic was real. This…" Dumbledore pointed at him. "Cannot be Harry Potter."
"Now, that is just rude. Don't point at people and call them 'this'," Harry responded. "But what you should be wondering is not if I am truly Harry Potter or not, because that is an obvious yes. Instead, ask yourself: besides being Potter… who else am I?"
"Who else?…" A terrible thought came into Dumbledore's mind. "Tom?! Is it you then?"
"Who?…" Harry now sounded confused. "Who the hell is Tom?"
"Voldemort…" Dumbledore took hold of his wand. "That would explain this strange behavior that doesn't benefit a child of your age."
"Oh." Harry sighed. "This again? Didn't I already tell you that I took the fragment out of my body? So no, I am not that Dark Lord."
"But then… who else could it be?" Dumbledore wondered.
Harry rolled his eyes. "You really think I'm just going to tell you that? My trust has to be earned. And you are far from that."
"But…" Dumbledore looked offended. "I am on your side."
"You don't even know what my side is." Harry pointed at the red dragons. "If you want to start earning my trust, you can take care of those."
"The dragons? What am I supposed to do with two dead dragons?"
"Have someone process their materials. You know… remove the skin, fangs, eyes, heart… all of that good stuff. Put them in boxes with preservation charms, and I will come back to get them in a few days."
Dumbledore was surprised by the sudden request.
"Personally…" Harry said, "I would have gladly donated the materials to Hogwarts. However, a friend of mine would not be very happy if I were to do that." He stored his staff and pulled his wand.
"Harry, wait… are you leaving?!" Dumbledore exclaimed.
"Sorry, but I have other matters to attend. I'll be back for the materials."
"Wait! You can't le—" Before Dumbledore could finish, Harry had already apparated away.
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