Chapter 11 – Secrets Revealed

Harry stood frozen for a moment, staring at Dudley, who's mouth was wide open in fear. "What's the name of that house elf?" he stammered. "Uh — Jabbery? Jabbery! Jabbery!" he called loudly.

The elf apparated into their bedroom. "Yes, Master Potter. You called Jabbery?"

"Yes!" exclaimed Harry breathlessly. "When you apparate, can you take humans with you?"

"Of course," he said.

"Good! I want you to take Dudley to the hospital wing. Tell Madam Pomfrey that he's had another nightmare, and that Ron and I are on our way to explain everything. While you're at it, you might want to wake up Dudley's parents and Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall. This is extremely serious."

"Yes, Master Potter," said the elf. "Jabbery will do as he is told. Right away, sir!" He took hold of Dudley's arm and they dis-apparated.

"Get dressed, Ron," ordered Harry. "We need to talk to Madam Pomfrey and Professor Dumbledore!"

By the time Harry and Ron reached the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey was examining Dudley again. "I just can't understand it," she complained, shaking her head. "That potion should have blocked out all dreams. He says you found him standing over you with his wand in his hand?"

Just then, the doors to the hospital wing flew open. For the second time in as many days, Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall were standing on the ward, looking down at Dudley in a hospital bed.

"What's happened?" said Dumbledore urgently.

Harry looked scared. "Ron woke up and found Dudley standing over me pointing his wand at me. When we asked him what he was doing, he wanted to know what Avada Kedavra means."

Dumbledore turned as white as a sheet. McGonagall's hand flew to her mouth, and she let out a little scream that was barely audible.

By now, Dudley's parents were arriving. Petunia rushed to Dudley's bedside. "What's happened? Is he alright?" she asked Madam Pomfrey.

"It's Harry you should be worried about," barked Ron angrily, not caring that he wasn't part of the family.

Vernon rounded on him. "What does that mean?"

Madam Pomfrey looked at Mr. Dursley. She was trembling from head to toe. "Ron woke up to find Dudley standing over Harry, trying to kill him!"

Dumbledore held up his hand to silence the group. "Wait just a minute!" he yelled. "I need to know exactly what happened. Now, one at a time. Ron, you tell me what you saw when you woke up?"

Ron told him everything he remembered. Then Harry took his turn. And finally, Dudley told what he knew. "I woke up, and we were all standing there," he said.

"Did you ask Ron what Avada Kedavra means?" said Dumbledor.

Dudley looked to his mother and then back at Dumbledore. "Yes sir," he said, still shaking and obviously terrified. "He told me it was the killing curse."

"Where did you hear those words?" insisted Dumbledore very seriously as his piercing blue eyes bore into Dudley.

"I don't know," he said on the verge of tears. "I must have dreamed it."

Madam Pomfrey shook her head again and looked at the headmaster. "That sleeping draft should have blocked out all dreams."

"Then it must not have been a dream," said Dumbledore thoughtfully. Everyone looked at him, surprised. "I don't think there's anything to worry about right away. Dudley doesn't have the magical ability to perform that curse — no matter how hard he tries. But, just to be on the safe side, I think we should make sure he doesn't have access to a wand while he's asleep. Why don't you put Dudley to bed here in the hospital wing, Poppy. Vernon! Petunia! In my office! Harry, you and Ron go on back to Gryffindor tower!"

"But Headmaster —" began Madam Pomfrey, her eyes wide with fright.

"It's alright, Poppy. I'm sure of it," he said as he turned and walked out of the hospital wing.

When they got to Dumbledore's office, he sat down at his desk, removed his spectacles, and looked at the Dursleys. "We have a very serious problem," he said, sleepy and exhausted. "There's no way Dudley could have heard that incantation here at Hogwarts. And no one in the muggle world would know it. Which leads me to believe that there's more going on here than simple nightmares."

"What do you think it is?" asked Petunia. "Is he in any danger?"

Dumbledore restored his spectacles to the bridge of his crooked nose. "He doesn't appear to be. If anyone is in danger, it's Harry. Though, I don't think Dudley really meant to kill him. He certainly doesn't have the skill to pull it off. Avada Kedavra is very advanced magic. Not just anyone can do that curse. But I don't want to take any chances. Dudley shouldn't have access to a wand while he's asleep until we can determine exactly what's going on."

"Do you think he's alright when he's awake?" asked Vernon.

"Yes, I think he's perfectly safe when he's awake," said Dumbledore. "He only seems vulnerable to whatever or whoever it is while he's asleep."

"Whoever?" said Petunia. "Do you think someone's controlling him?"

"Perhaps," said Dumbledore. "But I don't see how. Not yet. We should postpone our trip to Godric's Hollow until later."

She leaned forward in her chair. "No," she said emphatically. "We need to do it now. I can't explain how or why I know, but I do. I must see where Lily lived and where she died."

"Alright, then," he said, reluctantly. "So far your hunches have been dead on. I'm going to trust your intuition. We'll go after breakfast in the morning. Dudley can stay in the hospital wing until we get back. For the moment, let's see if we can't get a little more sleep."

The ceiling in the Great Hall at breakfast reflected a sky that was dark and gloomy. Everyone's mood was no better. Dumbledore and McGonagall looked reserved, the Dursleys looked worried, and Harry and Ron looked frightened. Only Hermione, who was not yet aware of last night's events, seemed normal.

"What's wrong?"she asked, looking around at everyone. "Has something happened? Where's Dudley?"

"Dudley tried to kill Harry last night," Ron blurted out.

"Now, that's enough, Mr. Weasley!" snapped McGonagall, glaring daggers at him. But her attempt to intimidate wasn't working.

"You weren't there, Professor," he replied angrily. "You didn't see him pointing his wand at Harry!"

"That will be quite enough, Mr. Weasley," said Dumbledore sternly as he stared at Ron with great displeasure. "It's obvious that Dudley had no intention of harming anyone. He was fast asleep when it all happened. Didn't you say you couldn't wake him up?"

Ron looked down at his plate to avoid meeting Dumbledore's eyes. "Yes sir," he said reluctantly.

"He's right, Ron," added Harry, careful to avoid angering him any further. "Dudley didn't know what he was doing. He didn't even know what Avada Kedavra means. Neither did I, for that matter."

Hermione slapped her hand over her mouth in horror as she looked from Harry to Ron. Then she quickly regained her composure. "Did Dudley sleep walk again last night?" she asked.

"Ron found him standing over Harry's bed with his wand in his hand," said McGonagall. "When they woke him up, he wanted to know what Avada Kedavra means. Of course, there's no way he could have known that curse."

Hermione's eyes narrowed as she considered McGonagall's words. "And Madam Pomfrey gave him the sleeping draft like they planned?"

"Yes," said Harry. "I had to shake him three or four times to wake him up."

"Then what he experienced wasn't a dream," she said thoughtfully. "Something else is going on."

"You're very clever, Hermione," said Dumbledore. "I've already come to that conclusion. We need to find out just exactly what it is."

"I'll be glad to help," she volunteered. "I'm really good at research."

"Yes, I know," said Dumbledore. "No other second year student could have found the recipe for the polyjuice potion — let alone make it." Hermione's face turned red, and her jaw dropped in surprise. "You should know by now, Miss Granger, there's very little that goes on around here that I'm not aware of. Oh, don't worry. You're not in trouble. To the contrary. You may well prove indispensable in solving this mystery."

Everyone had forgotten that the Dursleys were sitting right there, listening to the discussion and getting more and more worried by the minute. Petunia was on the verge of tears.

"What about Dudley!" she snapped. "He didn't mean to hurt Harry. What are you going to do to help him?"

"Everything we possibly can," replied Dumbledore in a soft, calm voice. "None of this is Dudley's fault. We know that. And we're going to do our best to get to the bottom of it. But he's going to need your support, Petunia. Imagine how he feels right now?"

"Professor Dumbledore is right," added McGonagall. "Dudley needs your strength."

"I'm sorry, Professor," she said, wiping her eyes on her napkin. "I'm just so scared for Dudley and Harry."

Vernon turned to his wife. "We'll get through this, Petunia. We don't know enough about magic and the magical world to handle this ourselves. We're going to have to trust Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall. They have a lot more experience than we do."

Harry looked at his uncle in surprise. He had never before heard him speak so reasonably and rationally. It was so unlike his usual behavior, it was scary. It was just plain weird.

"So, I guess our trip to Godric's Hollow is canceled," he said mournfully as he looked down at his plate.

"Not at all," said Dumbledore. Harry looked up hopefully. "Your aunt feels it's important that we go — especially in light of what's been happening to Dudley."

"You mean she thinks there's some kind of connection between Dudley and Godric's Hollow?" he asked.

"I don't know," said Petunia, with tearful eyes. "I can't explain it. I just feel it's the right thing to do."

Harry nodded.

Dumbledore looked around at everyone. "We'll be leaving in about an hour. Ron, Hermione, you'll accompany Mr. Dursley to London where you'll pick up his car and drive back to Surrey. Dudley can stay in the hospital wing with Madam Pomfrey. In the meantime, I'll send Jabbery to the Dursley quarters with some Floo powder."

Everyone finished their breakfast and left the Great Hall. After changing into muggle clothes, Ron and Hermione went to the Dursley quarters to meet Vernon. Jabbery had already brought the Floo powder, so they took the Floo network to the Leaky Cauldron and went to retrieve Vernon's car.

Petunia and Harry met Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall in the headmaster's office.

"Are you ready to leave?" asked Dumbledore, as he pulled on his traveling cloak.

"We are, Headmaster," said Petunia.

Dumbledore turned to McGonagall. "As I am the only one who can apparate in or out of Hogwarts, you'll need that ability too, Professor." He pointed his wand at the ceiling and recited an incantation in a language they couldn't understand. "That should do it," he said. "There's a little garden behind the church that isn't visible to most of the village. We'll arrive there. You know how to follow me, Professor?"

McGonagall looked slightly offended that Dumbledore would question her ability to apparate. "Of course I do," she snapped.

"I'm sorry, Minerva," he apologized. "I just don't want us to get separated." Then he looked at Petunia and Harry. "You two should know that apparition isn't the most comfortable way to travel. It's a suffocating feeling. But it only lasts a few seconds. So, don't panic. I've been doing it for over fifty years. Everybody ready?" They all nodded. "Good. Harry, you take Professor McGonagall's arm. Petunia, you take mine. Now, hold on very tight!"

Dumbledore turned on the spot, followed by McGonagall. In just a few seconds, they found themselves standing in a small garden behind an old wooden church amid a grove of Yew trees. Petunia and Harry were gasping for air but were obviously less shaken that Vernon had been.

"Everyone alright?" asked Dumbledore. They both nodded. "Good," he said, looking around nostalgically at the old churchyard and the fields beyond. "This is Godric's Hollow. It was named for Godric Gryffindor, one of the founders of Hogwarts. I was living here during the time when Voldemort was powerful. Your parents lived here, too, Harry. This is the churchyard. The cemetery is to the right of the church, over there." Dumbledore tilted his head in the direction of the cemetery. "Shall we proceed?"

They walked around the church to the side where the little graveyard lay. Petunia was looking around at the scenery. "This is a beautiful spot," she commented.

"Yes," agreed McGonagall. "I haven't been back here since —"

"— Since my sister was killed," Petunia finished her thought.

"Yes," said McGonagall sadly.

"I didn't know you knew my parents," said Harry to Professor McGonagall.

"Oh, yes, Harry," she said. "We both did. Professor Dumbledore and myself. Lily and James were great friends to both of us. Not a day goes by that I don't think of them. Especially since you came to Hogwarts. You look so much like both of them."

Harry was pleased that she knew his parents and a little sad, too, that his presence caused her so much pain. They walked into the little graveyard and between the headstones until they came to two monuments bearing the names of Lilly and James Potter.

"Well, here we are," said Dumbledore. "Would you like us to leave you alone for awhile?"

"No, Professor," said Petunia. "Lily was important to you, too. I just wish I had known her better."

"Lily and James were two of the finest people I've ever known," said Professor McGonagall. "They were selfless and tireless in their pursuit to destroy evil. It's no wonder He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named considered them a threat. Their deaths were senseless and tragic. I only wish I could go back and prevent it somehow."

"Now, Minerva," said Dumbledore gently. "We both know that things happen for a reason. If it was their lot to sacrifice their lives to protect others, they were more than willing to do so. That's the kind of people they were."

He withdrew his wand and gave it a little wave. Two wreaths of roses formed in mid-air and floated down to adorn the two grave sites. Then he flicked his wand again. The weeds surrounding the graves were removed, and the grass was trimmed to a respectful distance. A third flick of his wand saw the headstones cleaned of what discoloration had formed in the intervening years. "There," he said, satisfied. "That's better."

Seeing the care Dumbledore took in attending to her sister's grave, Petunia allowed her tears to flow free. McGonagall put her arm around Petunia and began to sniffle, too. Harry, who couldn't rightfully remember his parents, felt awkward. He was extremely grateful for their sacrifice, but he didn't really feel like crying. And if he had done, he wouldn't have wanted to do so in front of his headmaster.

"Now, now," said Dumbledore softly, smiling at the two women. "They're in a far better place than they were before. I know it's little comfort, but it's true."

Harry looked up at Dumbledore. "Where did we live, Professor?" he asked timidly.

Dumbledore pointed towards a road that passed the little church and graveyard. "Down at the end of that road," he replied.

"I want to see it," said Petunia between sniffles.

"Of course," he said. "Shall we go?"

They exited the little graveyard by the side next to the front of the church and walked in silence down the road towards the village. Trees flanked one side and open fields the other. After half a mile or so, houses began to appear on either side as they entered the village perimeter. Ten minutes later, they were standing in front of a dilapidated two story house. The upper floor was completely demolished on one side, and the ravages of wind and weather had darkened the stone and made it look somewhat foreboding. A strange aura seemed to hang about the place.

Dumbledore stared at the weather beaten ruin in thoughtful contemplation. "This house was magically protected when Lily, James, and Harry lived here. Not even wizards could see it unless they were told of its existence. The Fidelius charm was broken when the house was destroyed. But it's still invisible to muggles."

"I need to touch it," said Petunia as she began walking closer to the front wall of the house.

"I wouldn't do that, Petunia," warned McGonagall. "We don't know what traces of dark magic may remain in these ruins."

Petunia paid her no mind. She kept walking towards the crumbled wall that had once formed part of the living room. McGonagall made to stop her, but Dumbledore put out his hand to detain her. She eyed him sharply, but he shook his head in disapproval. McGonagall relented and allowed Petunia to approach the wall. When she made physical contact with the stone, a strange unearthly look came over her face. She froze where she was standing, as if listening to some invisible voice. Harry's eyes were wide with fear as he watched his aunt apparently communicating with the pile of rubble before him that had once been his home.

She was the only one who could see the images from thirteen years ago. Perhaps it was because she and Lily were sisters that she could see them.

James and Lily were in the living room playing with a beautiful small boy she knew to be Harry. They were all laughing and smiling. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door, and James went to answer it. He left his wand laying on his chair.

"What's happening, Albus," asked McGonagall, terrified.

"I don't know," he said. "Petunia, are you alright?" he called. "Petunia?"

When James opened the door, a tall think man stood on the threshold. He was as pale as chalk, and his features seemed to have been distorted. He appeared more reptilian than human. His eyes were mere slits that burned red in the night. She thought he looked like he had just emerged straight out of hell.

James obviously recognized him because he yelled, "Lily! Take Harry! Run!"

An emaciated hand bearing a wand emerged from the stranger's robes. He pointed it straight at James. Then, Petunia heard him speak the dreadful words she had learned just hours before. "Avada Kedavra!" A green flash of light hit James in the chest. As his eyes widened in horror, Petunia knew he was dead — even before his body hit the floor.

She gasped for air, trying to contain the scream she felt building up inside her. The gaunt figure stepped over James' dead body and entered the living room. Hearing footsteps above, he ran up the stairs and into the room where Lily was putting Harry in his crib. Lily interposed her body between Harry and the man from hell.

"Please," Lily begged. "Please not Harry! Please!"

A cold, cruel, high voice chilled Petunia to the bone. "Out of the way," he ordered. "Get out of the way!"

Lily did not move. "Please," she begged again. "Please not Harry! Take me instead."

"I have no intention of killing you. Now out of the way silly girl!" yelled Voldemort. Lily still did not move. "Well, so be it," he said without mercy. Then he pointed his wand at her and performed the Avada Kedavra. As the green light hit her sister, Petunia screamed! She screamed and screamed and screamed until she thought her throat would break.

"Albus!" shouted McGonagall. Dumbledore took Petunia by the shoulders and shook her vigorously. "Petunia! Petunia!" he urged. "Petunia! Come out of it!"

While she was still screaming, Petunia watched Voldemort turn his wand on Harry. A full grown man unmercifully killing a one year old child. But the curse did not kill Harry. It bounced off him and rebounded on Voldemort. There was a huge explosion that threw stone and rubble everywhere. When the dust had cleared, Voldemort was gone. Harry was laying on the bottom of his crib crying loudly. But he was still alive.

As the vision faded, she could hear herself screaming at the top of her lungs, and she knew it was not just in her vision. Her screams were real. She could hear something else, too — Dumbledore's voice calling to her. Suddenly, she realized that he had her by the shoulders and was shaking her.

"Petunia! Come out of it! Petunia!" shouted Dumbledore desperately.

She began to stir. She was still screaming but not as loudly now. Slowly, her screams subsided into violent sobs of grief and horror. Dumbledore led her away from the wall and back onto the front walkway where Harry and McGonagall waited in fear.

"We need to get out of here!" he said urgently. "Quickly, Minerva! Take Harry! Back to my office!" She did as Dumbledore said, and they all apparated back to Hogwarts.

When they arrived, Dumbledore sat Petunia in a chair.

"Harry," he said urgently. "Go get Madam Pomfrey. Tell her we need her in the headmaster's office right away. Stay with your cousin in the hospital wing until she returns with your aunt. Then, I want you to go to Gryffindor tower and wait there for Ron and Hermione. I'll see you all shortly."

"Yes, sir," he said and ran to the hospital wing. Dumbledore walked over to a tall glass cabinet in the corner and poured everyone a small glass of Fire Whiskey. Then he handed one to McGonagall and Petunia. "Here, drink this," he encouraged.

As she sipped the golden liquid, she began to regain her composure — though she was still horribly shaken. "I saw it all, Professor," she said through sobs of grief, the glass trembling in her hand. "I saw that man kill James and Lily. And I saw him try to kill Harry, too."

"You saw it?" asked Dumbledore, amazed.

"Yes. It was just like watching a movie." She took another sip of Fire Whiskey. "And there's something else, Professor."

"What's that?" he asked gently.

"I recognized that man. I've seen him before."

Dumbledore almost dropped the glass he was holding. "Where?" he asked urgently.

"In the hospital — when Dudley was born. I was asleep with Dudley's crib next to my bed. I woke up in the middle of the night and saw him pointing his wand at Dudley. Then I fell back to sleep again. In the morning, I thought it was just a dream. I haven't thought about it in years — not until now."

"Oh, no!" said Dumbledore seriously. "Voldemort is no dream! Petunia, I need to see that memory. It's very important. May I make a copy of it?" She didn't understand, but she nodded her head anyway. Dumbledore waved his wand and produced a small bottle and stopper. "Now, Petunia. I know it's painful, but I need you to think about what you just witnessed."

She looked up at him through terrified eyes. "I can't stop thinking about it!" she exclaimed, still shaking.

"Alright, then," he assured her. He placed the tip of his wand to her temple and withdrew a thin silver strand of something that looked like a spider's web. When the strand broke, a long piece was dangling from the end of his wand. He lowered it into the bottle and closed it with the stopper.

"What was that?" she asked.

"It was a copy of your memory," he replied. "I'll watch it later."

She was about to ask for an explanation when Madam Pomfrey came rushing into the headmaster's office. "What's happened now," she complained.

"We visited Godric's Hollow," explained Dumbledore. "She wanted to see the place where her sister lived. When she touched the house, she had a vision of that night when Lily and James were murdered. From what I can gather, she saw an after image of the whole thing — like a movie. She's been badly shaken, Poppy."

Madam Pomfrey gave her a calming draft and escorted her back to the hospital wing — muttering something he couldn't quite understand. Now, Dumbledore and McGonagall were left alone in the headmaster's office.

"What do you think, Albus?" she asked uncertainly.

"I think we've found a connection between Voldemort and Dudley," he said. "This may well be the answer to those nightmares. We're going to have to tell them, Minerva."

"Tell them what?" she said, looking puzzled.

"Oh — that's right — you wouldn't know," he began. "There are things known only to me that we're going to have to talk about. I've kept them to myself because I don't want Voldemort to know that we know what he's up to. But the time has come to let Harry's aunt and uncle in on some of the facts. And you too, Minerva."

"What about Harry?" she asked. "Doesn't he have a right to know?"

"Not yet," said Dumbledore thoughtfully. "He's too young. The truth would terrify him. I don't want to add that kind of burden to someone who's already burdened enough as it is. He will know at the proper time. But not now."

Minerva began to look a little terrified, herself. "I don't know what you're talking about, Albus. But if you think it's that important —"

"I do, Minerva."

"So, when do we tell them? And me?"

"After lunch I think," he said. "We need to get this out of the way before the students start arriving."

Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall were waiting in the Dursley quarters when Vernon, Ron, and Hermione returned from their trip to London and Surrey.

"Where is everyone?" asked Hermione, brushing ash from her robes and looking around the room to find only the Professors.

"Harry is waiting for the two of you in Gryffindor tower," said Dumbledore. "Petunia was pretty badly shaken. She's in the hospital wing with Dudley and Madam Pomfrey."

Vernon's expression changed to one of alarm. "What Happened," he asked rather impatiently.

Dumbledore looked at him with apprehension. "You know how sensitive she is to magical traces. She wanted to see where the Potters lived in Godric's Hollow. When she touched the house, she saw the murder of Harry's parents and the attempted murder of Harry. An after image of the tragedy, if you will. She said it was like watching a movie."

"Poor Mrs. Dursley!" exclaimed Hermione. "How awful!"

"Yes," he said. "That's why I don't want you talking about this around her — not for a while anyway. She's still in shock." Dumbledore looked at his watch, then at Ron and Hermione. "It's about half an hour before lunch. I want the two of you to go on up to Gryffindor tower. Harry's waiting for you." Ron and Hermione departed.

Vernon looked distraught. "Can we go up and see Petunia now," he asked.

"Certainly," said Dumbledore reassuringly. "But I need to talk to the two of you in my office immediately after lunch. And I don't want Harry or Dudley to know that we've talked. There are some things we need to discuss that aren't appropriate for their ears."

"Alright," said Vernon, looking at Dumbledore suspiciously. "You know best. But, can we go now?"

"Of course," said Dumbledore, as he and McGonagall ushered Vernon to the hospital wing.

After lunch, Professor McGonagall led Mr. and Mrs. Dursley up to Dumbledore's office. He was pacing back and forth when he heard the knock on the door.

"Come in," he said. "Please, sit down. Make yourselves comfortable." They all seated themselves and looked at him expectantly. "This is going to be a long story — though I'll try to make it as short as possible. Where are Harry and the others?"

McGonagall straightened her glasses. "The boys went to the quidditch pitch and Hermione is in the library."

"What's this all about, Professor?" asked an obviously worried Petunia. "Does this have anything to do with Dudley?"

"It has everything to do with Dudley — and Harry," he said. "I watched the memory you allowed me to copy. It confirms everything I thought I knew about that night. However, I want Vernon and Professor McGonagall to see it, too."

"Why us?" asked Vernon, twiddling his thumbs.

"Because I want all of us to be on the same page, Mr. Dursley. At this juncture, it's important that you know everything Petunia and I know. So, Petunia. If you wouldn't mind waiting, they need to see what you saw. Is that alright?"

"It's alright, Professor," she said, looking sad. "I don't mind."

"Good." He walked to the corner cabinet and retrieved the pensive. He placed it on his desk and pulled the stoppered bottle containing Petunia's memory from his pocket. Then he poured the contents into the pensive and gave it a little stir with his wand.

"Now, Vernon, I need to explain. We are about to enter your wife's memory of what she saw in Godric's Hollow. We'll be able to walk around, see, and hear everything. But we won't be heard or seen. And nothing that's happening around us can hurt us. It's not real. It's just a memory. Do you understand?"

"Yes," he said. "But how do we enter a memory?"

"All you have to do is lean over the pensive, and let the tip of your nose touch the contents. The pensive will do the rest. If you'd like to go first, Minerva?"

Professor McGonagall looked uneasy but did as Dumbledore requested. As soon as her nose touched the contents, she was tipped, head first, into the basin and vanished from sight.

"You next, Vernon. Then I'll follow."

Vernon, who was getting more used to magical things, did as Dumbledore instructed without hesitation. He, too, fell head first into the pensive. Dumbledore followed them both. Petunia found herself alone in the headmaster's office. She sat there thinking about everything that had happened that day. Fawkes cooed softly from his perch beside the door.

Ten minutes later, they emerged from the Pensive. Professor McGonagall had tears in her eyes and was visibly shaken. She found a chair and quickly sat down to steady herself.

Vernon's face was as white as chalk, and his eyes were wide with horror. "I never knew such evil could exist!" he said breathlessly. "That man! That horrible, evil man!" Then he sat down in his chair and let his chin drop onto his chest.

"I'm sorry for making you watch that," said Dumbledore. "But now we all know exactly who we are up against."

He went to the cabinet in the corner and poured a generous amount of Fire Whiskey for each of them. Then he sat down, looking at his hands and thinking. The Fire Whiskey was bringing them out of their shocked states. Vernon looked less pale, and McGonagall had stopped sniffling.

"You want to know what Dudley's part is in all of this," he said. "You already know that Harry is famous. Everyone in the wizarding world knows his name."

"Hagrid said it was because he was the one who lived," remembered Vernon. "That horrible wizard who tried to kill him lost his powers and disappeared."

"Yes, that is so — as you saw yourself," said Dumbledore. "But there's a lot more to it than that — more than even Professor McGonagall knows. I've kept some things to myself because I don't want Voldemort to have certain information. And he is still out there in spirit form, even if he doesn't have a body of his own. He can still possess people and animals — snakes being his favorite. We found that out during Harry's first year at Hogwarts. But there's a reason why Voldemort tried to kill Harry in the first place — a reason why Harry survived — a reason why Harry is still in great danger — and a reason why what I'm about to tell you must be kept in this room. It's critical to our survival — wizards and muggles alike. I don't think anyone can truly understand how important this is unless they grew up in the magical world and lived through those terrible years when Voldemort was powerful. But I hope you will try."

"We will," said Petunia.

"Alright, then," said Dumbledore. "I'll start at the beginning. There once was a boy named Tom Riddle who was the son of a witch and a muggle. His father abandoned the family when he found out his wife was a witch. His mother died in childbirth. So, Tom grew up in an orphanage. When he turned eleven, I was sent to bring him to Hogwarts. He was a handsome young man — more handsome than most. But he had no feelings. No love for anyone. And a penchant for cruelty. I kept a close eye on him at school — as close as possible. But none of the staff knew that, while Tom was beguiling everyone around him, he was secretly studying the dark arts."

"Dark arts?" asked Vernon.

"Evil magic," said Dumbledore. "Magic no descent wizard would dare perform."

"How could he do that at Hogwarts?" he asked, surprised.

"We have a section of our library dedicated to the dark arts. It's there for research only, understand. Older students are allowed to use it, with the permission of a staff member, for legitimate research. Apparently, while Tom was a student here, he found a way to access it without anyone knowing. And he read and absorbed everything he could get his hands on."

"That's horrible!" said Petunia. "No one suspected anything?"

"No one," said Dumbledore. "If we had done, we'd have put a stop to it. But by the time he was in his seventh year, he had already learned much about the dark arts and had started to develop a following. He called them 'Death Eaters'."

Petunia clamped her hand to her mouth and Vernon looked horrified. "Why would he use a name like that?" he asked.

"Because Tom was terrified of death," explained Dumbledore. "He wanted to find a magical way to gain eternal life. So, he turned to the dark arts. But there was something else that set him apart. He hated muggles, muggle-born wizards, and half-bloods. He hated them because his own father, who abandoned him, was a muggle. The founder of Tom's house, Salazar Slytherin, believed that magic should be kept in pure-blood families. Slytherin sought to purify the wizard race by eliminating all muggle influence through whatever means were necessary — including murder. Tom believed the same. So, during his seventh year at Hogwarts, he cast off his muggle father's name for a new name that people in the magical world still fear today — Lord Voldemort. After he graduated, he dedicated himself to becoming the ruler of both the magical and muggle worlds. Through threats, slander, intimidation, murder, trickery, and magical control, he built an enormous army He murdered thousands of people to get what he wanted — and mostly just for the pleasure of killing. He had spies everywhere. No one was safe — even in their own homes. For eleven years, he was the most feared dark wizard that ever lived. He still is."

"So, what does this have to do with Dudley?" asked Petunia, fear permeating her every pore.

"I'm getting to that," said Dumbledore. What I'm about to tell you is known only to myself and one other person. There are old followers of Voldemort still out there who would kill to get this information. That's why I must ask that you not discuss what I'm about to reveal with anyone — especially Harry and Dudley.

"We promise," said Vernon. "We don't want ourselves or our children to become targets of madmen."

Dumbledore sighed and then continued. "Shortly before Harry and Dudley were born, I interviewed the great-great-granddaughter of a gifted seer for the post of Divination teacher. Our meeting took place at the Hogs Head Inn. When the interview was over, without warning and completely unknown to herself, she went into a trance and made a prophecy that changed all our lives."

"What was the prophecy?" asked McGonagall, who knew very well who had made it.

Dumbledore and McGonagall exchanged meaningful looks. "The first part of the prophecy said that at the end of July, a child would be born to parents who had already escaped from Voldemort three times. That child would have the power to destroy him. The second part of the prophecy said that Voldemort, himself, would mark that child as his equal, and that one must kill the other because neither could live while the other survives."

McGonagall, Vernon, and Petunia all clamped their hands over their mouths in shock and surprise. Dumbledore looked calmly from one to the other. Then he continued.

"Voldemort had spies everywhere, remember. One of them overheard the first part but was thrown out of the inn before he could hear the full prophecy. Nevertheless, he reported what he heard to Voldemort. There were two children due to be born at the end of July that year, and both fit the prophecy. They were Neville Longbottom and Harry Potter. Voldemort chose Harry as the one he thought would be most dangerous to him."

"What if he chose wrong?" asked Petunia. "Maybe it wasn't Harry?"

"Voldemort never heard the second part of the prophecy," said Dumbledore. "He didn't know that by choosing — by marking Harry as his equal — he was giving Harry the power to destroy him. But Voldemort had a problem. James and Lily had already gone into hiding before Harry was born. He must have known that he might never find Harry in time to prevent his own destruction. What he needed was someone on the inside — someone who could kill Harry for him. He knew you were Lily's sister, Petunia. And he knew Dudley was due to be born about the same time as Harry. I'm sure he never considered Dudley a threat because, as far as he was concerned, Dudley was a muggle. But he needed someone on the inside. And who better than Harry's own cousin. So, he went to hospital shortly after you gave birth and forged some kind of magical link between himself and Dudley. Presumably, that link would allow him to control Dudley when he was old enough to act on Voldemort's behalf."

"You mean he chose Harry before he was even born?" asked Petunia.

"Oh, Yes," said Dumbledore. "Longbottom's parents were pure-bloods. Harry's mother was a muggle-born. He viewed the less than pure-blood wizard as the one that was most dangerous to him."

"So, what do we do about Dudley?" asked Vernon.

"I'm getting to that," said Dumbledore. "But there's a little more to tell. Voldemort spent over a year trying to find Lily, James, and Harry. Finally, he found them on Halloween night when Harry was just one year old. Then he murdered James and Lily to get to Harry."

"But why didn't the curse kill Harry?" asked Petunia.

"You saw what Lily did," said Dumbledore. "She gave her own life to save him. The one thing Voldemort could never understand is love. He didn't realize that by sacrificing her life, Lily was giving Harry a protection he couldn't penetrate. And that's why I placed him with you, Petunia. Wherever his mother's blood resides, he cannot be harmed. You may not realize it, but it is you who have kept Harry alive these past thirteen years. There are still many of Voldemort's old supporters out there who blame Harry for Voldemort's disappearance and would gladly kill him if they could."

"I never understood before," said Petunia. "If I had known —"

"If we had known," said Vernon, "things would have been a lot different for Harry."

"Well, now you understand why Harry is so famous in the wizarding world — he's the one who lived. And Voldemort having disappeared only made him more famous. What no one outside this room knows is that Harry is the one who is destined to destroy Voldemort in the end. If Voldemort finds a way to regain a body, none of us are safe."

McGonagall, Petunia, and Vernon were all ashen-faced and speechless. Dumbledore looked at them over the top of his half-moon spectacles. "We must find out exactly what the connection is between Voldemort and Dudley. And we must find a way to break that connection. If Voldemort manages to kill Harry, both the magical world and the muggle world are doomed."