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Missing Moment: Scarlet Eyes
He had been avoiding meeting Harry's eyes – even avoided being in his presence – for several months. It was not the best answer to anything, and he knew it, but he couldn't help it. If his theory was correct…if his suspicions were right…well, fear was a powerful beast. He wryly thought that, despite the fact that he had been sorted into Gryffindor decades ago, he couldn't meet a teenaged boy's eyes for fear of seeing Voldemort within them.
It wasn't that he feared Voldemort. No, not personally – Albus was a more talented wizard than Voldemort. That wasn't an issue. Rather, he feared what Voldemort could do to others. He feared others being hurt, killed, permanently damaged. He feared for Harry because he had a sneaky suspicion that Harry was an unintentional Horcrux, the Horcrux that was never meant to be, and by simply existing, Harry tied Voldemort forever to the earth. He was afraid of telling Harry that he must one day die in order for Voldemort to become mortal – he feared wrecking a young boy's dreams for the future, as he would certainly have to do if he wanted to see Voldemort defeated.
And in that brief second, that moment when he dared to look up in hopes that Harry would be looking down at the portkey, he was wrong. Harry was still watching him, still accusatory because he knew Dumbledore was deliberately avoiding his gaze, and in that second, he did see exactly what he feared.
The green eyes, so much like Lily's, flashed scarlet. He saw within them Voldemort's face, looming and desperate to emerge, for Horcruxes were more than just a liability. They were a fragment of a soul, a fragment able to remember, able to act if they had the right vehicle to do so. The diary had been proof that a fragment of soul was not docile or weak, but powerful and dangerous, able to morph into something more solid and real than memory if the means were available.
Voldemort was indeed within Harry. With the Dark Lord's return to power, that fragment was stronger as long as the connection remained unchecked. Harry had no idea. He suspected something was wrong, that he was different, but he had no idea he was a Horcrux. He didn't even know what a Horcrux was.
Harry's eyes turned from brilliant green to bloody scarlet, and Dumbledore saw Voldemort within the irises, his furious expression, his desperation to escape the confines of a teenager's body – the living container that bound him – desperate to kill the one enemy he loathed above all others.
The portkey exploded with blue light and the Weasleys, plus Harry, vanished.
Dumbledore was left standing alone in the office, and it felt as though water were rising in his chest, threatening to suffocate him. He felt he couldn't breathe properly, he felt fear as he hadn't felt in so long.
The only thing that brought him back to reality was the sound of the gargoyle moving at the foot of spiral stairs; quickly, he drew himself up, rearranged his expression, and moved to sit behind his desk. He would have to worry about the horcruxes and Harry later – Umbridge's fury was now his most pressing concern, and he had to protect Harry from her at all costs.