8

Chapter 7: Revelations

One of the things about being the Dark One for three hundred years was how nonchalant you got about killing people.

Events such as pulling people's hearts out crushing them into dust, turning them into snails stomping on them, all in a day of a Dark One's work. Of course, the Harry Potter part of him grimaced at his past.

At least for a moment, before his other memories took over telling himself that he couldn't change the past.

And by all accounts, he had been doing better. In the old days he would've turned the entire Weasley family into snails with how they treated Emma. Save for maybe Ginny and Arthur, who hadn't really been that offensive.

He shook his head wishing he never agreed to go to dinner. The only reason he did was because of Emma, which had caused him to reveal the magic truth to her.

It had gone over about how he thought it would; even though, she had accepted the idea that magic was real she was still weary about him using it.

It really would help with the morning sickness though.

He frowned as he thought about how he found Emma last night. Despite what she said, he knew morning sickness and hers was more severe than normal. He really would need her to see a doctor or healer when he got back from Hogwarts.

So many things to do.

"Harry," He turned to see his wife she was waking up. It was only five in the morning.

"Go back to sleep, love." He said.

He had been making a concentrated effort calling her 'love' rather than using her name or God forbid 'dearie'. Emma seemed to get annoyed with that particular term of endearment that he used for everyone since God knows when. It was odd how even seventeen years of living as someone else hadn't exactly broke his fondness for the word.

Emma shook her head and murmured "Don't go."

"I have to, I have to find Bae."

She sighed heavily, "I know, but I have this feeling. I don't want to lose you."

"You won't." He said.

She gave him a pointed look.

"Fine," He said. "Let's make a deal."

"A deal?"

Yes, a deal. A signature of his in his old life, as Harry he hadn't really made any deals. Just sort of been forced into (see: faux prophecy made by a batty Divination teacher).

"Yes," Harry said. "I like making deals."

"Because there's always something in it for you." Emma snapped.

Rumple chuckled, finding his laugh for the first time in seventeen years to be odd. It wasn't the high pitch giggle like it was in the Enchanted Forest. It was much like his old laugh, he thought. The one before he became the Dark One, odd how some things about this new version of him were so similar to his original form. Like, sometimes he looked at his reflection in the mirror and thought he could see bits and pieces of his old self there, which was silly beyond belief.

Turning back to Emma he said, "Yes, there's something in it for me. For you to be relaxed and not anxious. I will be there for you and the baby, I promise you that."

She sighed heavily. "Harry, you can't promise something if you end up dead."

"Oh, I won't end up dead, love. It's sort of hard to kill me."

She rolled her eyes. "Really, Harry. Please, you're not alone anymore."

No, he wasn't.

Leaving was harder than he thought it would be, even though he knew it would be a half a day at much. He just needed to get that potion ingredient. And while he was at it, he might see if there was anything worth harvesting from the basilisk.

Some snakeskin pants might be nice. The Harry part of him grimaced, not fully being able to fully appreciate the beauty of wearing animal hyde. He hated this, the feeling of conflict. Stuff that defined him years ago, now made him grimace a bit. But at other times, seventeen years as Harry seemed like a nice long rest.

Oh, Regina had really played a number on him.

He was slowly getting used it. The best way to do it was to try to live in the present and not focus on the details. Emma did seem to help. He did really care about her and had feelings for her. They were confusing feelings, but feelings.

A part of him did feel conflicted because of his memories of Belle, but he really did like Emma and care for her. God knows, Charming's daughter excited him in ways he didn't think were possible and she was having his child.

He liked being with her, enough where he was looking past the fact that technically hew as old enough to be her grandfather tenfold.

Of course, there were days he looked at her and thought he wasn't good enough for her or their baby. Which pretty much occurred every day and it made him inwardly winced when she told him goodbye that morning.

"Come back to me," She said. "Remember, you made a deal."

"I know," He said. "And I don't break deals."

Except for one deal. One deal which he was hoping to fix right now.

The ride back to the school had been pretty quiet. He had been hiding under the invisibility cloak the entire time. Although, he could easily conceal himself now that he remembered how to use his powers, it wasn't something he exactly wanted Ron and Ginny to know about.

Ginny had tried to be apologetic to the point where Harry wanted to tell her to get real, but instead he listened as best he could and nodded his head.

"You have no idea how sorry I am, Harry, for what happened last night. Is Emma okay?"

Like she really cared. Currently Emma was at the townhome with Hermione. He had instructed Hermione not to leave the house unless it was an emergency. A part of him felt like he was imprisoning his wife, but he knew—as Harry Potter—that the Death Eaters were very much a threat. And even though one day Emma would have immense power, she hadn't exactly tapped into it yet.

Harry sighed. "You weren't the one actively trashing her. I like your mother, Ginny, but last night she and Ron were both way out of line."

"You know they don't mean that," His ex-girlfriend said. "They just had expectations for us."

He rolled his eyes.

"Well, it's not that ridiculous." The redhead said her cheeks turning the same color of her hair. Before he woke up, he would've found this endearing and cute. Now it was eye roll worthy. Ginny Weasley was still a child, despite the matured figure. "I mean, we did have a good time. At least that's what I thought."

"It was nice," He said since the Harry part of him had given him a tad bit of empathy. Had it been the old him, he would've been much more acidic to her. But she was making an effort to be nice, which was more than his other family. "But it wasn't ever that serious, surely you knew that."

"I thought things could get serious." She said.

"Could is very different from actually being serious." He said, "I don't think Ron or your mum should be treating my wife horribly because of the odd possibility that there could've been something more than casual dating to our relationship."

Ginny sighed heavily. "I really didn't know that's how you felt."

"Well, I didn't exactly promise you a ring did I, dearie." He inwardly grimaced when he said that. Although, the Harry part of him had allowed him to be more empathetic about sixty percent of the time, he still got out a few—okay, a lot—of hopefully snarky barbs.

Though the look on Ginny's face didn't exactly make him feel good. A part of him felt bad at how disappointed she looked. Then he remembered that Emma said that she hated her and he felt slightly better. "Right. I can see you want to be alone so I'll join Ron."

"Very perceptive, dearie."

Raiding the potion cabinets had been easy. In retrospect, it had been too easy, since Snape was a bit more paranoid than Dumbledore, and had set up wards that Harry hadn't bothered checking.

Inwardly, Rumple chastised himself as the big nosed wizard walked up to him.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here? I believe you are no longer a student, Mr. Potter."

Rumple glared at the potion master. Just seeing the man again made his skin crawl. "Snape."

"You do know you're trespassing or is that not going through that dense head of yours?" Snape said berating him as always.

Rumple rolled his eyes. Thank God for three hundred years of memories, it made the man seem much more pathetic now.

Snape did not take this in stride. "Seriously, Potter, I caught you—what are you doing in the potions dungeon of all places? Stealing more ingredients, are you? Not exactly where you'd think a wanted fugitive would be."

Kill him, a voice in the back of his head said. A voice he hadn't heard in so long. Harry sighed heavily trying to calm himself down. As much as he wanted to pull out Snape's heart and squeeze it into nothing right there and then. He didn't. Instead, he just pulled out his heart.

Pulling out Snape's heart took him back a little bit to the first time he had performed the dark magical act, and the expression on Snape's face it just made him want to giggle.

"I can't stand your berating." Harry muttered as he looked at the heart, noting that like he expected it was quite dark.

"Potter, what did you do?"

A good squeeze was in order and the potion master who had bullied him for the better part of his Hogwarts career was leaning towards the floor.

"That hurt, didn't it?" Harry said, "You're probably wondering what's wrong with me?"

"The horcrux, of course" Snape managed to spit out. "Potter, listen to me, you can regain control. Just focus. Remember the techniques I taught you last year, clear your mind."

"Horcrux?" Harry said his eyes narrowing as a few things clicked into place. Grabbing the heart he said, "We're going to your office, you me, and dear old Dumbledore's portrait are going to have a long conversation. And then, if you're a good little boy, I might decide to let you live."

Needless to say, it was a very awkward walk to the headmaster's office.

Snape had certainly changed things; Rumple noted as he waved his hand to dismiss all the portraits save for Dumbledore's—who was currently sleeping.

The once whimsical décor had been replaced with a more Slytherin oriented theme.

"Seriously, all this green? Bias, much? Honestly, it reminds me of a horrible witch I met. She and you would've gotten a long perfectly, both of you had jealous streaks a mile wide that have given you major life complexes."

Snape shot him a dagger look obviously not happy with the situation. And who would be? No one was usually happy when their heart was torn for their body—wait, there was Cora, but she had taken her heart on her own and no one was holding it hostage.

Pity.

He really didn't get to kill Cora in his old life. There had been rumors that Regina had finished off her mother, but he sort of doubted it. He just hoped the harpy was still in Wonderland trapped forever torturing some poor caterpillar or whatever.

"I guess I'm off topic," Harry said. "It's time to wake Dumbledore up. I have a feeling he's behind this horcrux nonsense."

"It's not nonsense, Potter. You are a horcrux of Voldemort's. Why do you think Dumbledore didn't you teach you any fancy parlor tricks last year? You were meant to die, to sacrifice yourself. But obviously, we're too late; you've succumbed to the darkness. Like always, you ruin everything."

"But shouldn't that should make you happy since you're Tom's number one flunky?"

"Harry, for the last time, I trust Professor Snape and what he's telling you is the truth." Said the not so sleeping portrait of Dumbledore.

"Oh, really, dearie." Harry said rolling his eyes. "You know your trusted professor murdered you in cold blood. It was quite the sight. For a while there, I thought it scarred me for life."

"What do you have in your hand?"

"This? It's just Sev's little old black heart. And before you try to run to alert the authorities or whomever, you can't. I made sure of it. We're going to have a little chat about how you wanted me to martyr myself for the greater good. Because really, that is dumb, dearie, even for you."

Snape was staring at him like he was insane. Then again, the Harry Potter that he knew had been Dumbledore's golden boy.

Dumbledore was a little surprised as well. "Severus, did we fail? Did he succumb to Voldemort?"

"Voldemort does not have my wit." Rumple snapped. "And for the last time, I can assure you that I am not a horcrux."

"Harry, my boy, I know you're in denial but those dreams your fifth year they proved my theory."

"I'm psychic," Rumple said rolling his eyes. The visions made more than a little sense now. "You could call me a seer. Big mystery solved."

"Oh, that's rich, Potter." Snape said, "Are you forgetting that we're the adults and you're the child."

"Oh, I know who the adult and who the competent wizard is here. So, I'm guessing both of you were trying to kill me. Too bad Snape stabbed you in the back, eh, Dumbledore. Or was that for the greater good?"

"Harry—"

"Fine, I'll summarize the greater good, blah, blah, blah. Something that has to do with manipulating Harry and having him end up committing suicide. And they all lived happily ever save for Harry, the end. Really, you're almost as obnoxious as that blue bug."

Snape looked at Dumbledore obviously scared to say something.

Harry laughed. "Man, I wish you would've had that expression in potion class. By the way, a lot of your instructions are convoluted and incorrect."

"Harry," Dumbledore said. "Are you okay?"

"I'm better than I've been in seventeen years, dearie." The Dark One said. "Let's just say I've finally been able to piece a puzzle together."

"I know finding out that you're a horcrux is difficult, but you can still do good."

"For the last time, I'm not a horcrux. I'm a lot of things, but my curse wouldn't allow a piece of Tom's soul to be stuck in me."

"Harry, I know it's hard to deal with but trust me, I've done the research. Why else would you survive?"

Rumple smirked and thought, why not. He was planning on destroying the portrait and killing Snape in the process so he said. "Because I'm the Dark One."

Dumbledore blinked at him stunned for a moment, "You're not the Dark One. I don't know how you found out about James's biological father, but his powers did not transfer you Harry. It's a curse limited to the person who becomes the Dark One themselves."

"James?" Harry said off guard. "No. James Potter is not Baelfire."

"How do you know James's original name?" Dumbledore said.

Snape looked at the two of them, "What on Earth are you talking about, Dumbledore? James Potter's not the son of the Dark One. There is no Dark One. That is just legend. And James Potter, really that moron would not be related to a sorcerer that skilled. The man was a hack."

"Shut. Up." Harry said squeezing the heart a little harder this time causing Snape to bend over for more than a few seconds. "You better hope you have something useful for me or you die."

"Harry!"

"James Potter couldn't be Baelfire." Rumple snapped, "He was born to Fleamont and Euphemia Potter. I've seen the pictures of my grandparents."

He had. He saw the older couple in pictures. They looked enough like James to be his parents, but not just like him.

But everyone said Harry was a duplicate of James. And he didn't think he looked Bae—but again, he hadn't been right in the head till this summer and he hadn't really looked at pictures of Lily and James since coming into his right mind.

Dumbledore sighed. "They adopted him."

"Baelfire was fourteen when he was taken away, he wasn't eleven. He met Sirius when he was eleven. It's impossible."

There a simple deduction, James was not Bae.

Dumbledore sighed heavily. "When James came to this realm he was broken. We thought a memory potion with a deaging potion might help him. The Potters had been traveling abroad for so long; it was very easy for people to think they had a son. I don't even know how you found out about this, Harry. It was something I never thought we'd have to tell you. Let alone about your biological grandfather, thank God James decided he wanted to forget everything."

"He wanted to forget me," Harry said.

"No, Harry, your father loved you."

Harry shook his head the Rumple part of him was breaking into bits. All of this was too much. Trying to control his emotions to Snape he turned to the newly minted headmaster and grabbed his heart and said, "Is there anything useful left that you have left to tell me?"

"I was in love with your mother," Snape said wetting himself. "And I have no idea about this Baelfire business so don't kill me. Please."

"My mother? Ew. Seriously, is that supposed to erase almost seven years of abuse? With the way you're thinking, I'll name my youngest Severus Albus. Or maybe, Albus Severus. You know what those initials spell 'asp' and the last thing I want, dearie, is a snake in the family." Rumple snarked—while thinking Lily Potter was also his daughter in-law if what Dumbledore said was true. Taking his anger out of these revelations he grabbed Snape's heart and crumpled it until the new headmaster fell to the floor. Dead.

That was good enough for the bastard.

A shocked looking Dumbledore looked at him. "Harry? My boy, you can fight this."

"You are such an idiot," Harry said before he grabbed the portrait and poofed out of the castle. He needed answers, but first and foremost he needed to get out of that office.

At least Snape was dead, that was something good.

Though, nothing was good about today. Harry frowned when he appeared on top of a cliff that overlooked a little cottage next to the sea, which he was guessing was his intended destination—Godric's Hollow.

The portrait of Dumbledore was confused. "How? You can't apparate at the school."

"I don't remember the real you being so daft," Harry stated. "Did Snape get rid of your pensieve, I could really use it right now. I need to find exactly how you ruined my son's life."

"It's the school's pensieve," He said. "And I suppose I might've put some memories there. But Harry, you're making no sense. You do not have a son. Your James's son, I can understand how finding out about his biological father might've upset you. But your magic is no result from the Dark One."

"Really, dearie. You still don't believe I am who I am despite killing your goon."

"I think the horcrux is having more of an effect than I thought it would."

Again, Harry rolled his eyes. "Fine, you want to be moronic, maybe this will help you see the truth.

With a snap of his finger he was back into his old form, sans scales. Something about this world wouldn't let him have the scales or the creepy nails. This was a rather sad development, he had been hoping to give Voldemort the scare of his life.

If he hadn't been dealing with so many emotions, he would've felt how different it felt being back in a version of his old body. Different and familiar. In a way, he felt like he was finally himself again even though it technically didn't matter what form he was in. Also, it allowed not to focus on the fact that his son was his father.

He was his own grandpa.

The mere thought of it made him want to hurl and crunch up Snape's heart again—too bad he was already dead.

It couldn't be true. Dumbledore had to be lying. He needed to find out the truth.

While the denial was obviously there, the logical part of Rumple was putting it together it made sense why he ended up in this body now. There was a blood connection. Bae had a child and it had died before it was even born, and Rumple had taken his place.

The mere thought of that made him actually vomit on the cliff that he and the portrait were on. Too bad none of it got on Dumbledore.

Dumbledore looked at him surprised. "Harry?"

"Yes, and no, dearie." Rumple said. "You can call me that if you want. You should really be glad you're dead. If I knew what you did to Bae, I would've killed you myself."

Dumbledore shook his head. "I don' t understand any of this."

"I guess they don't transfer brain cells into portraits. I am the Dark One, obviously. " Rumple said. "I want to know how you got your manipulative hands on my son."

Dumbledore sighed heavily. "You're supposed to be in another realm. James said it was impossible for you to come here."

"His name," Rumple hissed. "Was Baelfire NOT James. Names are important, you manipulative twit."

The portrait winced for the first time, like he might actually believe that Rumple was who he said he was.

"I'm sorry," Dumbledore said. "Har—what do you prefer to be called?"

"The Dark One," Rumple said using his professional title. "At least in this form. You'll be referring to me as Harry in my other form. What happened?"

Dumbledore sighed. "The Potters have always lived in Godric's Hollow. Beautiful country, isn't it?"

Rumple gave him a look.

"Sorry, just trying to set up the tale."

"I don't want any half answers you old goat." Rumple said as he shot a fireball up in one of his hand. "I could easily destroy this portrait and you would lose your ability to manipulate beyond the grave."

If portraits could pale, he thought he saw Dumbledore doing so.

"What's wrong, I thought death was the next great adventure." Rumple mocked.

"What do you want to know?"

He was told a lot of things. He was told how Baelfire had washed up on the shores of the Potter's home. How there were legends that Godric's Hollow laid on the edge of two worlds. The boy had been severally ill. Mumbling something about pirates and lost boys—Pan, Rumple thought as he felt even more rage build up with him. He kept listening though, Dumbledore wasn't usually this chatty, and he didn't know if he'd ever be this chatty again.

Rumple was obviously going to confirm with the pensieve—another reason to go back to that stupid school. But right now, talking to the portrait was his best option.

The portrait then mentioned how the Potters were childless and discovering that Bae had no one, wanted to adopt him.

"Why did you deage him though?" Rumple asked, "And Bae wasn't magical."

Dumbledore sighed. "He was magical, maybe not in your world, but here he showed signs of magic. Someone in your family line must have been magical. Maybe Jam…Baelfire's mother."

Rumple shook head. "No, not Milah. Not that hag."

If she did, it would've made that fight on the pier a lot more interesting.

Dumbledore shrugged. "Well, someone in the line must have had some magical ability since Bae exhibited it. It was too late for him to attend Hogwarts, he was fourteen and as you know the starting time for the school was eleven. So we gave him two options, home school or he could be deaged."

"And he willing chose to be deaged?" Rumple said not quite believing it still, even though he had heard it twice now.

He had thought about offering Bae the same thing when he found him, but knew instantly his son would turn down the option. God knows, Rumple found the whole fact that he had been a child again a bit horrifying.

"You have to realize Bae wanted to forget. He had to seen some horrifying things where he had been and this way he thought that he'd truly be Fleamont and Euphemia's son—"

"In other words he wanted to forget me, like I said before." Rumple said looking at the portrait. "I think I've heard enough."

"Harry, please, I—"

"Oh, don't worry, I'm not going to destroy quite yet. You might have your uses, unlike Snape." Rumple said before waving his hand and sending the portrait to a safe place. "Though if I figure out a way to torture portraits, you'll be the first to know."

He sat there on the cliff for a while watching the ocean for a moment wondering how his son had washed up on these shores.

Bae.

He was truly gone if what Dumbledore told him was right.

He couldn't revert to the Harry form quite yet, it was just too soon. He knew he would eventually, but now he had someone to visit.

Not bothering to walk down to the small cemetery below Rumple poofed next to his son's grave.

It was the first time he saw it.

It was more or less another Harry Potter memorial. Sure, it was Lily and Baelfire's (Rumple refused to call him James) graves, but the boy who lived was mentioned and represented to the point it made him want to gouge out his eyes.

This was not how he wanted his son.

He shook his head waving his hand rebuilding the memorial to one that he thought was more fitting that had no mention of Harry Potter in it. One that simply celebrated the lives of James and Lily, and even though he couldn't exactly put Baelfire's real name on the headstone to replace the faux name the Potters gave him.

"I'm sorry I'm late," He said knowing he wasn't really talking to anyone. Baelfire was gone. Had been gone for almost twenty years, and all because of him. A son should never die protecting their parent, but that's what Baelfire unknowingly did.

He had taken care of him for the first year and a half of this life. If he survived, he would've been his father and Rumple guessed in a way he would've been his own grandpa.

He shook his head thinking that his aunt's soap operas were less complicated.

"I never wanted things to be this way for you, Bae. You should've never died for me. I am so, so sorry. You won't die in vain, I promise. I will get vengeance for you."

And then he sat. He sat and cried, something a Dark One had not done in a very long time.