D.M.Emrys
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(Harry Potter) Worthy of you: Chapter 4 – A Tree out of the Forest
🕑 Added 2025-05-05 21:13:00 +0000 UTCChapter 4 – A Tree out of the Forest
Summary: A long-overdue conversation brings painful truths to light—and nothing will be the same afterward.
Dumbledore reeled back as if he had been slapped and asked weakly, “Pardon?”
Harry took a deep breath. “I’m not trying to insult you, sir. That being said, I am stating a fact. For the past six decades, people have looked up to you. Some for hope, some for power, most for leadership. And for most of it, you did an amazing job. Until you lost yourself.”
The old man leaned back in his chair and asked flatly, “And how would you know that?”
Harry mimicked the man’s action to show that he wouldn’t be intimidated before speaking calmly. “I spent the last couple of days in the library, looking through the records for anything I could find on Tom Riddle…” The name caused the headmaster to gasp, but Harry ignored it. “But there wasn’t much to find. So, after that, I decided to gather as much information as I could on the man who seems determined to control my life. And I found some interesting things.”
“Is that so, Harry?” The headmaster asked with a frown.
Harry just gave a small chuckle. “Relax, sir, I don’t mean anything bad. Actually, most of it was very impressive. How you began your career at Hogwarts as a Defense professor during the start of Grindelwald’s war. You balanced your students and the front lines with expertise. After you won your duel and ended the war, I can hardly say you didn’t deserve the praise and admiration you got.”
The old man was now smiling. “Why, thank you, my boy. It was a troubling time. Might I suggest in your free time, you search the records for your esteemed head of house right here? She, too, achieved a great many things during those years.”
Harry nodded slightly before letting out a heavy sigh. “I don’t know where your issue began. Was it the PTSD? Was it the peacetime you got used to? Or did the words of the people reach your mind and settle there?”
Now, once again, the headmaster was frowning, but he didn’t look like he was about to speak, so Harry kept going. “You saw war, you knew what dangerous and rogue wizards were capable of, and still you missed one that was under your nose for seven years. You, as the deputy at the time, made him Head Boy and allowed his cult to grow inside the school. Once Tom began waging his war, you were already headmaster and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and then you took on the title of ‘leader of the light’ so you could lead the fight against the new Dark Lord.”
Everyone in the room was listening to Harry as if this were the first time they’d heard the story, though they had all lived through it. With a deep breath, Harry continued. “You spread yourself too thin even then, and the people began to pay the price. Both civilians and people who chose to fight at your command. Instead of delegating, like you did during the first war, in this one you decided that you were the only one who could make the right choices, damn the result.”
The headmaster shook his head and said without any trace of heat, “I’m afraid you’re being too harsh, Harry. You’re young, and new to the idea of war. You can’t save everyone when you’re fighting for the soul of your country.”
Harry gave the man a hard nod before retorting, “I agree with you on that. No war can end without casualties. This is the sad truth of reality. But you’d be surprised at the kind of information one can find when he has an invisibility cloak to spend the night in the restricted section of the library.”
Dumbledore’s eyes widened, while Remus chuckled softly next to him. But Harry kept speaking. “I read that during the war, an Auror named Moody followed your orders. He kept saying that no matter how much he begged you to allow them to use lethal force against Tom’s forces, you refused, which led to the deaths of many brave people who fought for their country, while their murderers escaped with a couple of minor injuries that were treated immediately afterward. Can’t you see where the problem is, sir?”
The headmaster was now scowling and responded firmly, “We do not stoop to their level, Harry. Killing should never be an option.”
Harry scowled right back and shot back in irritation, “You’re naïve, sir! Granting Auror Moody’s request wouldn’t have been a license to kill. Its goal was to allow your forces to use spells like cutting curses instead of stunners when they were being bombarded with Unforgivables. You could have emphasized that killing should only be a last resort, and that they could use the spell to disarm their enemies by targeting their wands. With your decision, you made each fight your forces had with Tom’s very one-sided, with the advantage going to the enemy.”
The headmaster shook his head in denial. “Harry, you must understand that winning with tactics like that would have resulted in more strife, even after the war.”
“And here, ladies and gentlemen, is his greatest flaw!” Harry shouted dramatically.
The three adults were in shock. It was Professor McGonagall who recovered first and asked gently, “What do you mean, Mr. Potter?”
Harry shook his head sadly and looked at the old man. “Don’t get me wrong, headmaster. I know you want to protect everyone, but you have to see that by doing so, you’re destroying so many lives in the process.” The hundred-year-old educator looked shocked at the accusation, so Harry elaborated. “You said you can’t win a war without casualties, but didn’t you realize that by your tactics, what you were saying was that you were willing to sacrifice all of the people on your side to win the war in a way that would spare the enemy from any casualties. See the double standard there?”
The headmaster looked like he had aged another century, his eyes growing distant, and his face as pale as a sheet.
Harry let out a heavy sigh and said softly, “You’re always watching the forest, but you forget that it’s made of individual trees.”
The old man seemed to recover and shook his head in denial again. “No, Harry, you just don’t understand. I care about each person in our society, and I fight for every one of them.”
Harry felt his blood boiling. His anger got the better of him in that moment. He stood up so sharply that the chair he was sitting on fell to the ground. Harry didn’t notice and didn’t care. He began undressing, shouting, “Is that so, sir?!”
His head of house began to rise from her chair, asking gently, “Mr. Potter, what are you do—”
She froze, her voice trailing off as Harry threw his shirt aside, revealing his upper body. His back was covered in small scars from his uncle’s belt, and his front bore burn scars from when his aunt had spilled boiling water on him because the food wasn’t ready in time. There were many more scars, thanks to his cousin’s hunts.
The old woman fell back into her chair with a gasp, tears welling in her eyes. He heard a growl coming from beside him, and the headmaster himself was so shocked he was rendered speechless.
Even Fawkes let out an angry cry, which only fueled Harry’s rage as he shouted at the old man, “Did you fight for me?! Did you fight for me when I was bitten and left to bleed and rot in my cupboard?! Did you fight for me when I spent my entire mornings cooking only to be sent back to my excuse of a room to starve?! D-Did you fight for me when I had no place to feel safe, w-wh-when I was forced to hide who I really am just to survive?”
Harry was crying now, the pain of the memories overwhelming him. “Y-Y-You left me t-there, sir. Can you say I was safe? Can you say you fought for Harry, the unloved orphan?”
Harry heard a sob echo through the room, and he wasn’t sure if it was his or not, but before he became completely incapable of speaking through his sobs, he forced out the final blow. “Can’t you see, sir? I’m the tree you forgot about while you were watching the forest.”
Harry was about to collapse to his knees and cry when he felt a new weight on his shoulder. Then a thrilling sound filled him again, pushing away his anger and sadness.
Harry felt a few wet but warm tears hit his scarred skin. He opened his eyes, and even through his blurred vision, he saw the skin where the drops landed heal until no scars remained.
A soft, sad trill from the phoenix on his shoulder drew Harry’s gaze into the bird’s eyes. Even without hearing words, Harry understood that the majestic familiar was apologizing for not being able to heal more than a couple of scars.
Harry sniffed and gave a small smile to the bird. “Thanks, Fawkes. You did more than enough.”
Fawkes let out one more thrill that spread warmth inside Harry before taking off back toward his perch.
Suddenly, the headmaster’s desk shook as two fists slammed onto it with far more power than Harry thought the ragged man next to him had. Remus glared at the headmaster and snarled, “Damn you, Albus! You told me he was safe! You told me he was happy! You told me you were looking after him!”
“THE WORST KIND OF MUGGLES THEY ARE! I WARNED YOU, ALBUS!” screamed McGonagall, her fury and venom dripping from every word. “YOU TOLD ME I HAD NOTHING TO WORRY ABOUT! ARE YOU SENILE OR A LIAR?!” She continued cursing the old man in her native tongue, which Harry couldn’t understand.
Then Remus let out a dark chuckle and said in an ominous voice, “I don’t envy you, Albus. You don’t have to be afraid of us because soon enough you’ll reach your next great adventure, and I have a couple of guesses about who will be waiting for you on the other side. I’ll pray for your sake that it’s James and not Lily.”
The headmaster looked incapable of speaking, his own eyes filled with tears. Finally, he managed to choke out, “Mrs. Figg. She was my spy there. Why didn’t she report—”
He was cut off by a dark chuckle, this time from Harry himself. “What? Did you think my relatives would advertise their abuse and risk ruining their reputation with the neighbors? They were very… creative in making sure no one found out. Mrs. Figg only babysat me twice in my life, and I barely saw her outside of her house. So how could she know?”
“Two weeks.” Remus growled, but this time it was different. All three of them looked at the ragged man before he elaborated in the same bloodthirsty voice, “The full moon is in two weeks. We’ll see how those bastards enjoy being the prey.”
“Please don’t, Remus,” the headmaster said calmly, drying his eyes.
Remus hissed, “Do you think you can tell me not to after—”
The old man raised his hand to calm the furious man before explaining himself. “Do not mistake my intention. I agree that those vile animals must face retribution when the time is right. But if you choose your current course of action, who will be left to care for Harry here?”
Harry’s eyes widened as he looked at the headmaster hopefully. “Do you mean…?”
Harry couldn’t even finish the question; it was too much to hope for. But the headmaster gave him a kind smile. “I can now see the enormous mistake I made, my boy. And you were forced to suffer because of it. I know you may not believe me and may never be able to forgive me, but know that I am sorry. The least I can do is ensure you will never return to that hell again and that you will be taken care of by someone who genuinely cares about you.”
Harry was disbelieving, but he had a smile on his face as he said politely, “Thank you, sir.”
The headmaster waved his hand dismissively and said with a sad smile, “I do not deserve any gratitude from you, my boy, especially not for something I should have made happen ages ago.”
After a moment of comfortable silence, during which Harry took the time to redress himself, the headmaster spoke again. “Harry, I believe Poppy is about to administer Severus’s potion to the petrified students. Why don’t you take Remus to meet Miss Granger? The young lady is sure to appreciate the company after her ordeal.”
All Harry could say was, “Yes, sir.”
And with that, both of them headed to the door, but just before they left, the old man called out once more. “Thank you, Harry, for giving me much to think about—both about the past and the future.”
Harry just gave him a wary nod and left the room with Remus at his heels. To be honest, Harry wasn’t sure what would happen with the headmaster from here. He certainly hadn’t planned on going so deep in the conversation. He could only hope the results would make things better.
