Return Of The Father (Harry Potter fanfiction) **COMPLETED**

:: Chapter 22: St Mungo's ::

Harry is the horcrux he never intended to make.

Something seemed to shatter inside him as the reality of the statement hit him atlast. His son was a horcrux. His son had a piece of Voldemort inside of him. He was dazed, and his mind was clouded by various thoughts which were all entirely jumbled up.

"No," James said, shaking his head in disbelief, as though hoping that shaking his head would make everything alright, and prove that what Dumbledore was saying was false...

"I'm afraid so, James," Dumbledore looking as though he had aged ten years in a span of a few minutes. He let out a sad sigh and stared outside his window.

"Is that why he can talk to snakes?" James asked monotonously.

"I believe so,"

James was still dazed. Harry was an accidental horcrux, and the piece of Voldemorts soul that thrived inside him tying himself to Voldemort was mishap that had occurred out of plan. A horcrux...so to destroy it... He inhaled sharply.

"If a bit of Voldemort's soul is inside him, then to kill Voldemort-"

Dumbledore turned his head and merely stared at James helplessly.

"NO!" James shouted, leaping to his feet. "Harry can't die! My son can't be killed for this! There has to be another way!"

"James-"

"Don't you dare say anything Dumbledore!" James said angrily, pacing the office agitatedly. "My son will not be raised like a pig for slaughter!"

"You misunderstand me," Dumbledore said calmly. "Yes, to kill Voldemort, that part of his soul must be destroyed. But I believe that there may be another way, where Harry may still live."

"Another way?" James asked, his anger and grief fast replaced by hope. He desperately needed a solution, needed the bright light at the end of the dark tunnel to guide him.

"I do not know as of yet," Dumbledore said heavily. "But trust me James, I am trying to find a way."

"Trust you," James said in a hollow voice. Memories suddenly resurfaced. Memories of himself and Lily in this very office, as they had done so many times before. "Do you remember what me and Lily had asked of you, all those years ago? About the possibility that we could die? About where Harry should live?"

Dumbledore hung his head, pain crossing his features.

"I know," He said softly. James carried on talking accusingly.

"Do you remember how we made you swear to not let Harry have to live with Lily's sister? Didn't you swear?"

"I did,'' Dumbledore said.

"And look what's happened,'' James said laughing humourlessly. "You sent him to live with her after all."

"I know I did. But I did it so that he would be safe."

"Well, why couldn't you let him live with one our friends?" James demanded, his voice gaining leverage. "or any other wizarding family?"

"That was a mistake on my part. I believed that the knowledge that he was famous would get to his head."

"So what? A little spoiling is better than what he had to go through!"

"James-"

"Have you any idea what went inside that house? They made him sleep in a cupboard under the stairs!"

Dumbledore stared at him in shock.

"The dark and smelly cupboard under the stairs, Dumbledore!" James shouted. "A cupboard filled with spiders and whatnot! They never loved him! He never got his own toys, or his own clothes! The only toys he got where the ones his fat cousin broke, and the clothes he owned were Dudleys! He was made to cook when he was a small kid! He never got any presents, or any treats! He was even starved! Are you telling me that being a little spoilt is worse than this?"