The Lost Prophecy: The Uncut Version!

by cosmo-queen

You haven't read the real Chapter 37 of Order of the Phoenix until you've read this fic. (Obviously, MAJOR OotP spoliers!)

THE LOST PROPHECY: THE UNCUT VERSION!

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DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the other books/movies/people I make fun of in this story. I can't be bothered listing them all out, so let's just say that anything that sounds famous does not belong to me. So don't sue. (I do own this ridiculous plot, however. ^_^)

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CHAPTERS 1-36 (summarised) Harry Potter finally returned to Hogwarts for his fifth year (it took J.K.Rowling about 10 chapters to say this). Once again, there was the ever so minor problem of the Dark Lord, and eventually, Harry and his group of friends (which expanded to six people, including Harry) were confronted by Death Eaters. This egotistical group of buddies finally became aware of their stupidity when Sirius died.

CHAPTER 37: Dumbledore breaks it to Harry, as gently and bluntly as one can when it comes to these sorts of matters, that Harry must either kill Voldemort or be killed by Voldemort. (Well, Harry had figured this out a long time ago, being the hero that he is and all, while Professor Trelawny never forgot to considerately remind him of his doomed fate either. SHHH!.) Did you expect Dumbledore to reveal all only to be disappointed with the above summary?

DO NOT DESPAIR!!!

This is not the real version of Chapter 37!!! (GASP! SHOCK! HORROR!) That's right folks, there was a part, a rather large, important part to be exact, conveniently omitted in all Order of the Phoenix books, which cosmo-queen conveniently found. If you want the REAL VERSION, read on. If you don't want the REAL VERSION, read on. (Includes special bracketed commentary from the author...of this fic, that is...)

---CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN---

The Lost Prophecy

Dumbledore looked down at Harry through a pair of sunglasses which he had owned in the 70's. It was the only appealing eyewear Dumbledore could find, since his trademark half-moon spectacles had fallen off his long, crooked nose while Harry had thundered around, destroying the old wizard's office. (Most people would have been referred to a psychiatrist or an anger management class, but Harry is "special".)

"Harry, being killed by Voldemort is not an option. Understand? Good. It would screw up J.K Rowling's happily ever after ending and we certainly can't have that happening."

Harry started analysing the options available to him using analytical skills usually obtained in English Literature classes, despite the fact that Hogwarts does not offer any such course. "But perhaps it wouldn't be as cliched if I died. People would actually be shocked, and maybe, they'd even cry over my death. You see, what separates a good novel from a bad novel is the ability of the story to make the reader feel emotions towards, and relate to, the main character. (ignore the fangirls screaming outside Dumbledore's office, demanding Harry should've fallen through the Veil instead of Sirius) A happy ending would destroy any chance of this happening. This would mean that J.K Rowling has just wasted writing millions of words building up tension and suspense when all along, the whole story was but a fairytale. Therefore, in conclusion, being killed by Voldemort is indeed an option."

"HARRY POTTER! (Dumbledore does the "scary, towering, wise wizard look" made famous by Gandalf in Lord of the Rings) DO NOT TAKE ME AS A CONJURER OF CHEAP TRICKS! My only purpose in the books is to be the wise old mentor with all the solutions. Don't take that away from me! If I say your fate is to murder the Lord of the, I mean, Voldemort, then your fate is to murder Voldemort. There's no buts about it." (Knowing Harry will make an infuriated speech, Dumbledore focuses his gaze on the bothersome boy, who year after year prevents his retirement, and pretends to listen.)

"But no-one ever listens to me, despite the fact that I am always stuck with the dreadful Dursleys and I saved the Philosopher's Stone and I got rid of Voldemort in the Chamber of Secrets and I had to get past dragons and sphinxes and every other foul thing in the Triwizard Tournament and I was there when Voldemort returned and I saw what's-his-name killed by Voldemort and I was the one whose blood Voldemort used in his resurrection and I was the one who had to escape from Voldemort and I am the one who's just lost his godfather, and oh yeah, I am the one whose parents Voldemort killed. Yeah, no-one listens to me nag and nag and whinge and whinge and complain and complain DESPITE THE FACT THAT I AM THE MAIN CHARACTER," Harry ranted on and on and on. (Harry is secretly very proud of the fact that he didn't take a single breath during his whole recycled speech.)

(Dumbledore, who is thinking to himself, and you wonder why nobody likes you and the Dark Lord wants to kill you, turns his brain back on, and musters up a sympathetic look, despite the fact that he really wants to kick this boy up his inflated arse.) "My boy, we live in troubled times. And I know that much of the burden lies on you. One could say that you carry the weight of the whole world on your shoulders. However, it is you, and only you, who has the chance to rid the world of this burden. I know it may be hard for you to comprehend but pray, do the right thing. Remember, the fate of the world rests with you." (So don't be so bloody selfish, Dumbledore adds, while commending his brain for making such a thought-provoking speech. Elements of fatherly affection, truth, understanding, sympathy, sarcasm, wit and guilt all do a wise speech make.)

(And as an afterthought...)

"It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities, COUGHCOUGH both of which you lack at the moment, particularly the latter, judging from some of your exam results COUGHCOUGH. Forgive me Harry, I suffered a bout of pneumonia during my mysterious and unexplained absence." (Dumbledore smiles with pride at Harry, certain he has got the annoying boy there with his wise quote recycled straight from Chamber of Secrets, thinking let's see what he has to say to that!)

"No Dumbledore, I simply cannot accept that I have but one choice." (The tension! Everyone is shocked and horrified that Harry is defying Dumbledore, who, smiling all the while, decides to reveal his telekinetic abilities, as a Pensieve narrowly misses hitting Harry on the head.)

Dumbledore let out a large sigh. "That would've solved all my problems."

Harry continued, "I'm sorry, but I cannot be a murderer. (I'm too good for that) My father wouldn't have wanted it." (Unnoticed by Harry, Dumbledore rolls his eyes. Meanwhile, the tension increases as Harry continues to defy his mentor.)

"Fool," muttered Dumbledore, under his breath, his patience rapidly fading. "Don't you want to live, you stupid boy?"

"What did you say?" Harry asked naively.

"School is about to start. I don't have all day for this conversation, you know." (I've much more important things to be doing than wasting my time, pleading with this idiot boy, the bane of my life, never giving me a moment's peace. Proceed to Plan B.) Dumbledore replied sweetly, as a kettle thudded past Harry's armrest.

"Ok, I guess I'll be going now and grieving for Sirius," Harry chirped.

"Wait! Harry! I AM YOUR FATHER," Dumbledore roared.

"WHAT!" Harry choked. Harry's head started spinning with mind-boggling thoughts, as a string of curses began echoing around the grounds of Hogwarts. (The thoughts and curses were deemed inappropriate for 10-year-olds, and were thus edited out.) This was just too much. Harry felt sick. Harry felt disgusted. Harry felt faint. Harry felt...LIKE THE MOST GULLIBLE FOOL ON EARTH. (The latter thought only occurred to Harry once he saw Dumbledore rolling around the floor, tears coming out of his eyes, coughing GULLIBLE FOOL.)

"Priceless. It works every time. That must be the best cliche in the universe. Universe. Star Wars. Do you get it Harry? (pause as Dumbledore almost chokes) That saying will NEVER fail to grab one's attention and it creates the most entertaining expressions on people's faces. (Now all we need is Ashton Kutcher to spring out from behind the picture of Phineas and say "You've been punk'd, man, in a real bad way, dude, like did you see your face, bro, hahaha) Your face, Harry, your face. Classic. I believe it is the most amusing face I've yet seen arise from this joke. Well, Siri...oh, oh dear, how terribly inappropriate of me." (Harry is also on the floor crying, but not tears of joy.)

At this moment, the picture of Phineas Nigellus hissed, "Dumbledore, you insensitive fool. Why are you acting so terribly out-of-character at such a time? You've been smoking some of that hobbit-weed, haven't you?"

Dumbledore, however, had composed himself once more, save the hiccoughs, though internally, he was having trouble suppressing his merriment. "That was a very cruel thing of me to do. But in such troubled times, people need to be able to laugh and joke around. Ok, that's not exactly helping my case, is it, so I'll get to the point. I am not your father, Harry, of course not, how could you even consider such a thing, but I am your father's father's father's father's father's father. Or something like that." Dumbledore could feel his conscience beginning to kick in.

Harry stood up. "We're related?" he asked suspiciously. Returning to his gullible self, Harry started thinking how potentially powerful he was, if Dumbledore's blood flowed in his veins. He could be Super-Wizard. The possibilities!

"Yes, we are related. I am your great, great, great, great, great grandfather. Or something like that. And that, my boy, is what I have been meaning to tell you for five years and in truth, should've told you five years ago. I didn't think you were old enough to comprehend the notion of grandparents when you first came to this School, but after five years, it became a great weight on my conscience, which now feels much lighter, I might add, so what better time to break the news than at a time when you need another fatherly figure to look up to. Doesn't that just explain everything, Harry?"

Harry pondered this fact over. Very slowly

"Well doesn't it?" Dumbledore asked, half an hour later.

It was like a light had gone off in Harry's head. "Yes...yes, it does explain everything! Wow! We're related." (Harry does a little jig) "We're related, we're related, we're related, yes, I have been reunited with another long-lost, unknown family member, yes, we're related...hold on, why are you telling me this now. And what the HELL does it have to do with the prophecy?" (which is what everyone is thinking at the moment, including me.)

"Patience, Harry, patience. Patience is a virtue," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. He felt very proud of his new and original wise quote, and was certain that people would refer to it for many years to come. "Harry, since you are my last living descendant, I have left everything to you. Which means that one day you will become Headmaster of this prestigious School..."

"But," Harry interrupted, slightly confused, "I thought that the Ministry of Magic appointed the Headmaster or Headmistress."

"Harry, come on, be logical now, what with all the fortunes you're entitled to. You've got it made. You can own anything or be anything you want. You'll still be filthy rich by the time you reach my age. No, I lie. If you reach my age." Dumbledore was solemn and serious now. "Harry, our family history is a rich one. In fact, we are probably descendants of Godric Gryffindor himself. We are courageous and noble, brave and ever fighting for the truth, for justice and for all that is good in this world. We must honour our traditions and our values. Above all, we must honour our roots. And if we are to honour our roots, we must prove our worth in times of trouble and great peril. Our ancestors have proven themselves, I have proven myself on countless occassions, your father proved himself, even though he died in the process, and now the opportunity has presented itself for you to prove yourself too. But the reason why I am so adamant that you only have once option in all of this, that is, that you MUST kill Voldemort, is because you are the last descendant of Godric Gryffindor who can carry the family tradition, honour and worth on to another generation. If you die, then the proud family line of Gryffindors dies with you. And that is not an option. We cannot have evil reigning the world. Neither, Harry, is the option available to you, that you defeat Voldemort only to die yourself, as it was to your father, unfortunate as that turned out to be. You must live to produce an heir. (That is, unless he gets laid in the VERY near future, hint hint, nudge, nudge, wink, wink, hubba, hubba.) My, my, this must have been a lot to take in within the space of five minutes. But now, Harry, do you FINALLY understand where I was coming from?"

An hour later, Harry was still staring at Dumbledore with his mouth gaping. His jaws simply would not work. His brain simply would not work. It refused to process all this new information. Once again, it was just too much. From time to time, tiny squeaks were heard in Dumbledore's office.

Dumbledore sat patiently, waiting for a reaction but prepared himself for the possibility that he might be in for several hours of waiting. Dumbledore was beginning to regret ever opening his mouth about patience. Stupid karma. Still, it was to late to back out of his "patience is a virtue" lecture now. So, from time to time, he gave what he hoped were encouraging smiles. Harry needed to understand that Dumbledore cared. Then again, there were a lot of things that Harry needed to understand. (And Dumbledore sure as hell wasn't going to waste his life explaining trivialities to Harry if he took so long to respond)

Screw patience, Dumbledore decided.

"Harry?" Dumbledore enquired gently, "I must warn you that you cannot become paralysed when something shocking occurs. You cannot let yourself become vulnerable. Imagine Voldemort was standing in front of you instead of me. You would have died a very humiliating death.," Dumbledore stated, in what he hoped came across as a sympathetic tone. (What Dumbledore really meant was hurry up, you slow boy, how the HELL did you become known as a hero, a baby has more chance at defeating Voldemort at the current moment than you do. Speaking of babies, perhaps I'll treat him like one.) "And Dumbledore doesn't want his great, great, great, great, great grandson dying now, does he Harry?"

"No, sir," Harry replied at last.

"FINALLY!!!" Dumbledore exclaimed, besides himself with joy.

There was a knock on the door, followed by Hagrid's booming voice. "Professor Dumbledore, sir, Gandalf is waitin' down at me hut. He says yer were meant to meet 'im in the Forbidden Forest two hours ago. 'E looks kinda doped up, if yer know what I mean, so jus' don't keep 'im waitin' too long. 'E might scare me new Panigerions. Oh, I shouldn'ta said that. I really shouldn'ta. I'll be off then Professor." Thunderous footsteps could be heard running quickly away from the door.

"I'll be there in a minute," Dumbledore called out, though Harry was pretty sure that Hagrid was halfway back to his hut by now.

"What are Paniger...?" Harry began inquiring.

"Never mind, Harry. I have urgent business to be attending to, so let's get this over and done with, shall we? Now, will you do the right thing and prove your worth by defeating Voldemort without dying in the process? Will you honour your heritage, Harry? Will you honour Godric Gryffindor?" Dumbledore asked, with pleading eyes. "I need an answer within the next ten seconds." (Under his breath, Dumbledore hissed DO IT!!!)

"Well," began Harry, rather sadly, "if it will make me more of a hero than I already am, then I suppose the answer is...

(The suspense is unbearable. The readers would now have to turn the page to discover Harry's answer. Discombobulating!)

yes, I..."

"Splendid, glad to know you finally came to your senses. Merlin, you wasted enough time of mine as it is. It's all about choices, like I was saying. Ahh, Gryffindors are renown for their foolhardiness at the best of times, and you are no exception, Harry. However, all is forgiven. Could you just pick up that kettle lying besides you?" Dumbledore said innocently. (Of course, Harry takes far longer to do this simple task than a normal human being, so Dumbledore continued on with his triumphant speech, muttering excellent under his breath.) "Yes, all that matters now is that you said yes, which I will take as an oath, which means that you can't back out of anything now. If at any time you do believe you have made the wrong choice, too bad, you're stuck with your decision. The kettle you've just handed me, finally, has made sure of it. I just hope that I will not meet the same fate as all your other fatherly figures," Dumbledore concluded, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

"Professor, I..." Harry started once more, a ton of questions on his mind.

"Very good, Harry. Go now. Grieve for your godfather. I have weed to smoke." Dumbledore's tone was somewhat patronising.

"WHAT did you say, Professor?" Harry exclaimed wildly. Dumbledore stoned? Never!

"I said, I need a good soak." (Dumbledore commended his brain once more for being such a fast thinker...and good liar)

"I'm pretty sure you said you had weed to smoke."

"What a preposterous idea! Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! It's all in your mind Harry. Perhaps Voldemort is feeling depressed?" Dumbledore suggested.

"Yeah...maybe...that's probably it..." Harry replied, suspiciously. "I'll be...seeing you the Professor." Truth be told, both Dumbledore stoned and Dumbledore in the shower created disturbing mental images.

"Yes, yes, good day to you too. Be off now!"

Harry proceeded towards the door. (Of course, Harry takes far longer to do this simple task than a normal human being.)

"Finally...the door...slams...SHUT! Dumbledore, you're a genius, if I say so myself," Dumbledore's voice echoed around his office with glee.

"A mischievous genius, nonetheless," a voice similar to Dumbledore's echoed back, "You? The great, great, great, great, great grandfather of Harry Potter? That's the worst lie I've ever heard. You have been smoking too much of that hobbit-weed."

"Aberforth, lie I did but convincingly all the same. Besides, what Harry doesn't know can't hurt him." Dumbledore retorted his framed brother.

"I don't know, Albus, I don't know. But who am I to lecture Albus Dumbledore?"

"Exactly, my dear brother. All's well that ends well then, yes?" Dumbledore smiled. "Merlin, look at the time, Gandalf's probably on his way up here right now."

(Sure enough, a loud chorus of...The Road goes ever on and on...Down from the door where it began... resounds below in the Hogwarts Grounds. Gandalf was spanking a Thestral.)

"Merlin!" Aberforth shrieked, "Albus! There could be students out there! Go and remove him from sight before the School is permanently disgraced. Goodness, he'll never make it up here, that's for sure. And no getting the unicorns high! Understood, Albus?"

"Yes, brother," Dumbledore replied, obligingly. (He was already out the door with a large tin of sherbet lemon drops.)

FIVE MINUTES LATER

"You're late, my good friend."

"A wizard is never late, Gandalf the Grey. Nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means to." Dumbledore announced, proud of yet another one of his original, and this time cheeky, quotes. (Hysterical guffawing can be heard from deep within the Forbidden Forest.)"Lemon drop?"

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: Never written a Harry Potter parody before, haven't written many parodies of any genre actually. But I had lots of fun writing this, and I hope it was remotely funny. This idea was originally meant to be a short idea for a different fic, but by the time I realised it was six pages long on my word processor, I thought it would be better to make it into a separate fic. And, voila! Now, all I need are some reviews. And sleep. But reviews would make me happier. So please review! Greatly appreciated :)