By LastCrazyHorn

Word Count: 105891

Rating: PG-13 for brief language, violence, and depictions of abuse

Summary: A disabled Harry comes to Hogwarts story. Everyone expects him to be like his dad, but how can he be with such a different past? A Slytherin Harry takes on Hogwarts in an unusual way

Darkness lifted, and Dumbledore swam back to the light.  When he finally opened his eyes, he found that his vision was murky.  Hazy.  A great sense of calm enveloped him, even as he opened his mouth to protest.  

He looked around in this haze, mouth closing on its own accord as he took in the sight before him.  The Wizengamot, in all of its glory, sat above him.  Amelia Bones, monocle firmly clamped in one eye, stood up and spoke to the crowd of wizened individuals present.  As always, Dumbledore found her words easy to ignore until his name was mentioned.

“The accused, one Albus Dumbledore, has been administered Veritaserum.  Auror Shacklebolt, has enough time passed for questioning to now continue?”

“It has.”

“Then by all means, proceed.”

What followed was an exercise in boredom.  Full name asked and given.  Professional goals asked and given.  Various leadership positions reeled off, and familial history aired and laundered.  No one asked about Ariana, and he offered no information without prompting.

And then everything changed.

“Did you know you would be causing harm to Harry Potter by placing him with his relatives?”

Albus struggled with himself then.  The public was not ready to hear of the necessary means for achieving ‘The Greater Good,’ but his struggles were ultimately fruitless.

“Yes.”

A murmur broke out in the wizengamot then, but it was quickly stifled by a few sharp bangs of the gavel.  Out of the corner of his eye, a dark shadow shifted and Albus was surprised to see Severus away from the comfort of his dank dungeons.  Would wonders never cease?

“Do you who killed them?”

“I do.”

Another brief murmur of sound, but this one was quickly quelled by a steely eyed glance from Amelia.

“ Mister Dumbledore,” Kinglsey asked, and Dumbledore tried to fight against the constraints of the potion to protest such an underwhelming title.

“Who killed the Dursleys?”

“I did.”

“Why?”

The haze around his mind appeared to lift slightly and Dumbledore pushed forward in his restraints in his haste to answer the question.

“Because they failed!” He spat.  “Such worthless little muggles.  Couldn’t even manage to do one blasted task,” He added, unaware that his thoughts were being broadcasted live through his traitorous mouth.

Several bangs of the gavel were required to restore order, alongside a threat to remove speaking privileges the next time an outburst occurred.

“How did they fail?” Kingsley voice was cool and collected, despite the turmoil present in his frown.

“Harry was to be broken down through their treatment, but they were to keep him there . Seven times they lost him.   SEVEN! ”

“Did you . . . return him when he was lost?”

“Of course I did!  And a mess that was.  Muggles can only be obliviated so many times before losing cognitive functions.”

Somewhere, in Dumbledore’s mind, a part of him was relishing the chance to share his many woes with these people.  The veritaserum was an easy master.  It coaxed his mouth open, and in turn promised his actions to be met with unyielding understanding.  

“You bloody bastard!”  A man’s voice broke his mental gloating.

“We will have order in here, even if I have to cast you from the courtroom myself, Alastor!” Amelia’s voice rang out.

Dumbledore sat back and grinned the smile of the self-assured.  

“Why . . . why was it required that he be raised in such difficult circumstances?” Kingsley’s voice was cajoling.  

To Dumbledore, it seemed as though the other man really wanted to understand.  

“Suffering increases magical output.  Look at He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.  Raised in an orphanage.  Suffered under food shortages, physical violence and mental duress.  Strongest wizard of the century.  Gellert Grindelwald was raised by an overbearing uncle who beat him for every last mistake, torturing his friends and obliviating them afterward.  Again, one of the strongest wizards of the century.  Severus Snape, an equally strong wizarding figure in these last thirty years, suffered the most miserable childhood that I have had the pleasure of hearing,” Albus’ smile turned nearly grandiose as he took in Amelia’s stunned visage.

Out of eyesight, Severus Snape’s white knuckled grip on his wand was tempered only by the constant muttered promises from the older man beside him.

“Yeh can’t kill him in front of witnesses, Snape.  Yeh especially can’t do it before we know all the details.  After this, yeah.  I’ll help yeh.  But not ‘til then.   We can even feed him bit by bit to Singe.”

“Singe wouldn’t eat anything that foul,” Severus managed to growl out, his eyes never leaving the centre of the courtroom.

“What about them giant spiders in the Forbidden Forest?  Get a few them to drain him dry?  While he’s conscious?”

“Too easy.”

“Yeah, ‘suppose.”

Their conversation was derailed by the sound of Dumbledore spewing more wickedness out from the depths of his mind.

“Harry Potter.  Parents murdered in front of him when he was a just a babe.  He was already set up to be a powerful wizard.  Gellert and I theorized that a child with the correct background could be coaxed into being even more unbalanced with the use of subtle prompting.”

“Such as?” Kingsley’s voice was barely recognised through the man’s clenched teeth.

“Potions that promoted emotional instability.  As you know, emotional instability in children leads to outbursts of accidental magic.  The higher instability, the more outbursts.  Accidental magic may be commonplace in a magical household, but when that child is placed in a magic fearing home–and I use that term loosely–the reactions range from expressing mild concern to committing acts of major violence against the cause of those accidents.  I used compulsion spells to remove the Dursley’s inhibitions–few though they were–in reacting violently in response to the things they feared most.”

By this point, most of those present had been spelled silent or forced to leave.  Severus and Moody were some of the only bystanders left unspelled within the courtroom, and that was only because of their desire to outlast each other.

Severus suspected that the truth potion was nearing the end of its efficacy, but it hardly seemed to matter to Dumbledore.  He had a captive audience now.

“I repeat,” Kingsley asked.  “Why was all of this necessary?”

“Harry Potter was the means to an end.  Gellert and I had a hypothesis to test, and I used Harry as the testing material.   Puer ignis is a spell we found–and modified somewhat–in the depths of the old library of Atlantis.  Yes,” He held up his hand to stave off imagined protests.  

In reality, no one was willing to interrupt the madness spewing forth freely in front of them.  

“Yes, I realise that Atlantis was lost, but until fifty years ago, much of its great library was still accessible.  The text was composed primarily of ancient Mermish, which was subsequently handwritten out by a centaur with terrible spelling and tendency to smear his ink when excited.  It was difficult to read and decipher, but we persevered!”  Dumbledore paused, as though expecting applause.  When he was met with none, he merely sighed and continued.  “Of course, I can’t expect the teeming masses to understand the difficulty of this task,” He added, smiling benignly up at the Wizengamot.  

“By denying the Potters’ will and leaving young Harry without a magical guardian, I was able to take up that mantle by being the person to handle his various points of magical business.  Since he was without magical and familial guardian, then it was supposed that ownersh–I mean, guardian ship of him was to be assumed by the person who held the most power over his choices.  In return, his raw magical output could be harnessed by me .  All as a matter of protecting young Harry, of course.  It was a surprise to discover that the spell could change the boy into something non-human, but it would not have been an insurmountable feat if only Harry had recognized his owner.  For whatever reason, the spell failed in that manner.”

Silence reigned in the courtroom.  Kingsley walked over to Amelia and they had a quick but furious conversation behind a muffling charm.  

“Dumbledore,” Amelia spoke aloud, cutting Kingsley off with his remaining hand.

“Yes, my dear?”  The twinkle was back.

“Is there any way to change Harry back?”

“I honestly can’t say.  I suppose if he were drained of all magical ability, he would change back, but that’s hardly a definite idea.”

“Nor a good idea,” Amelia murmured.  “Dumbledore, might I ask, what were you going to do with all of Harry’s raw power?”

“Why, rule the world of course.”

Someone by the door let out a surprise squawk of laughter.   No one else spoke.  The room seemed to be holding its collective breath.

“And that would be a good idea, because . . . ?”  Amelia leaned forward in her seat, thin face pinched and worn.

“The fact that you question me means that you clearly do not have the wherewithal to hold your position, let alone decide on the future of the Wizarding World.”

They could hear the capital letters in his tone.  

“I see.  Are there any more questions from anyone?”  

A stunned silence met her words.  The last of the haze floated away in the face of Dumbledore’s serene smile.  

He had never meant to speak it all aloud, but it felt like the right idea now that he had.  Albus sat back and crossed his leg at the knee, adjusting his grey prison robes just so.  

“Completely bonkers, man is,” Someone muttered close to Severus muttered.

Severus couldn’t help but completely agree.  He didn’t give the speaker of the sentiment any encouragement though.  Moody had a big enough head as it was.  He certainly didn’t need reinforcement.

. . .

The Wizengamot came back in only fifteen minutes.  Dumbledore was declared guilty of an impressive list of crimes.  And despite some members’ hesitation, the man was sentenced to life in Azkaban, directly next to the dastardly and much disliked criminal, Sirius Black.  

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