And as the implications of his actions sank in, the boy wizard plunged into a paroxysm of self-doubt. Harry may not have started the fight, but he had ended it decisively. Seconds earlier, the burst of flame from his wand had exploded mid-air, incinerating the cult leader where he stood while throwing the rest of his followers back against the wall with bone-crushing force. "What have I become," Harry wept as his gaze swept over the carnage, the full weight of death at last upon the boy.

It was then that Dumbledore emerged from the shadows. "It is true that blood will have blood," the old man sighed, "and we must be vigilant lest we become too much like those whose forces we oppose." The professor paused to let his words sink in. He placed a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder as if to say that this too will pass. "But splittists are an insidious threat to the sanctity of a harmonious state and it was fitting for you to treat them harshly."