Hello! I didn't realize how LONG the scene in Dumbledore's office is in OotP, so writing this took a while. I wrote almost 2,000 words before realizing I hadn't even reached the point of it yet and had to start all over, so I apologize for the wait.

Also, because I'm not sure if I ever made this clear or not, the majority of the dialogue that occurs within the actual scenes from the books is taken directly from the source and is not mine. I occasionally add to or expand certain scenes, but most of it still belongs to JK Rowling.

Enjoy!

Once Harry had finished his most recent round of yelling, Albus Dumbledore, seated behind his desk, stared calmly at him. Harry, still visibly furious, met his eyes unwaveringly.

James, Lily, and Sirius had watched, stunned, for the better part of an hour now, as the young Potter had raged, yelled, and destroyed various items in the Headmaster's Office in the aftermath of Sirius' death. It was a version of Harry none of them had ever seen before, but which no one was particular surprised had finally made an appearance. He had, after all, been through far more than enough to warrant it.

"It is time," Dumbledore said after a moment of tense silence, "for me to tell you what I should have told you five years ago, Harry. Please sit down. I am going to tell you everything. I ask only a little patience. You will have your chance to rage at me—to do whatever you like—when I have finished. I will not stop you."

Harry glared at him from across the room, but apparently resigned himself to that much because he crossed to his headmaster and flung himself down in the chair before his desk. Dumbledore let him wait, staring out his office window for a moment before looking back to his waiting pupil. "Five years ago you arrived at Hogwarts, Harry, safe and whole, as I had planned and intended," he said. James snorted without amusement before he amended, "Well—not quite whole. You had suffered. I knew you would when I left you on your aunt and uncle's doorstep. I knew I was condemning you to ten dark and difficult years."

He paused, still studying Harry. The latter said nothing. James wasn't sure he would have shown the same restraint in his position. Dumbledore went on to explain why the Dursley's had been the best option for Harry, despite the treatment he'd received. "You would be protected by an ancient magic of which he knows, which he despises, and which he has always, therefore, underestimated—to his cost," he said told him, speaking of Voldemort. "I am speaking, of course, of the fact that your mother died to save you. She gave you a lingering protection he never expected, a protection that flows in your veins to this day. I put my trust, therefore, in your mother's blood. I delivered you to her sister, her only remaining relative."

Harry spoke up quickly and for the first time at that. "She doesn't love me," he insisted, "She doesn't give a damn—"

"But she took you," Dumbledore told him, "She may have taken you grudgingly, furiously, unwillingly, bitterly, yet still she took you, and in doing so, she sealed the charm I placed upon you. Your mother's sacrifice made the bond of blood the strongest shield I could give you." James places a hand on Lily's back at the reminder of what she'd done for their child. Lily meanwhile leaned into James' side, watching but surprisingly unmoved by the recount of her actions fifteen years prior, even while she hadn't known the extent of it at the time. She regretted nothing about that night except that Harry had suffered so heavily in the time since because of it.

Harry started, "I still don't—"

"While you can still call home the place where your mother's blood dwells, there you cannot be touched or harmed by Voldemort," Dumbledore told him, going on to explain that even with Harry's absence from Privet drive for the majority of the year, his continued return during the summers, until his seventeenth birthday, kept Lily's protection over him.

A spark of realization showed on Harry's face now and he sat up straighter. "Wait," he said, "Wait a moment. You sent that Howler. You told her to remember—it was your voice—"

Dumbledore inclined his head and spared Harry the need to finish. "I thought that she might need reminding of the pact she had sealed by taking you. I suspected the dementor attack might have awoken her to the dangers of having you as a surrogate son."

"It did," Harry replied, his voice quiet. "Well — my uncle more than her. He wanted to chuck me out, but after the Howler came she — she said I had to stay." He studied the floor for a moment. "But what's this got to do with . . ." He trailed off, clearly unable to speak Sirius' name and pained yet again at the reminder.

Dumbledore chose not to take notice and instead continued his story. Harry had arrived at Hogwarts five years earlier, not well taken care of, but safe. His plan was working. And then came the events of his first year. "You rose magnificently to the challenge that faced you," Dumbledore said, "and sooner—much sooner—than I had anticipated, you found yourself face-to-face with Voldemort. You survived again. You did more. You delayed his return to full power and strength. You fought a man's fight. I was… prouder of you than I can say." This made Lily smile in spite of herself. She knew the older wizard cared for Harry a great deal, loved him even, and she was reminded, once again, how much she owed the man for showing Harry love when few others did.

"Yet there was a flaw in this wonderful plan of mine," said Dumbledore. He said it was an obvious one, which might have undone everything, and yet he refused to allow the plan to be foiled. "And here was my first test," he said, "as you lay in the hospital wing, weak from your struggle with Voldemort."

"I don't understand what you're saying," Harry told him.

"Don't you remember asking me, as you lay in the hospital wing, why Voldemort had tried to kill you when you were a baby?" Harry nodded and Dumbledore continued, "Ought I to have told you then?" He again received no response and continued on again after a pause. "You do not see the flaw in the plan yet? No… perhaps not. Well, as you know, I decided not to answer you. Eleven, I told myself, was much too young to know. I had never intended to tell you when you were eleven. The knowledge would be too much at such a young age." He went on, explaining to Harry how eleven had turned into twelve and time had gone on. More extraordinary things happened and still he'd said nothing.

"Do you see, Harry?" he asked now, "Do you see the flaw in my brilliant plan now? I had fallen into the trap I had foreseen, that I had told myself I could avoid, that I must avoid."

Clearly he didn't. Harry stared blankly at the older wizard. "I don't—"

"I cared about you too much," said Dumbledore elaborated simply. "I cared more for your happiness than your knowing the truth, more for your peace of mind than my plan, more for your life than the lives that might be lost if the plan failed. In other words, I acted exactly as Voldemort expects we fools who love to act. "

He continued with his account. Harry had turned thirteen and faced dementors, learned the truth about Sirius, rescued him. Dumbledore admitted his excuses for holding out on the truth were running out. "Young you might be, but you had proved you were exceptional. My conscience was uneasy, Harry. I knew the time must come soon…"

The night in the maze with Cedric Diggory's death and Voldemort's return added an even greater burden to Harry's already heavy load and his headmaster hadn't been able to bring himself to add so much more to it. He did not tell him this secret, but knew the time for delaying was running short. "And now, tonight, I know you have long been ready for the knowledge I have kept from you for so long, because you have proved that I should have placed the burden upon you before this. My only defense is this: I have watched you struggling under more burdens than any student who has ever passed through this school, and I could not bring myself to add another—the greatest one of all."

"I still don't understand," Harry said.

"Voldemort tried to kill you when you were a child because of a prophecy made shortly before your birth," Dumbledore said now and told Harry that the dark wizard had known only part of its contents and believed he was fulfilling its terms when he'd set out to kill Harry as a baby. That he'd failed when the killing curse backfired and that since his return to his body, he'd been determined to hear the thing in its entirety.

Harry told Dumbledore how the prophecy had smashed during the fight in the Department of Ministries and that no one had heard it.

"The thing that smashed was merely the record of the prophecy kept by the Department of Mysteries" Dumbledore corrected, "But the prophecy was made to somebody, and that person has the means of recalling it perfectly."

Harry looked like he knew what the answer would be before he asked, "Who heard it?"

"I did," Dumbeldore answered, and told him. He retrieved his Penseive and placed it before Harry on his desk, provided the memory of the night for it, and set it to play before Harry's eyes. James, Lily, and Sirius all watched the scene play out in silence. The former two knew, of course, the prophecy's general idea, but watching it play out, the very event that had dictated so violently the paths all of their lives would take, was something else entirely.

When the memory ended, Harry looked to Dumbledore for clarification of what he'd just watched and the Hogwarts headmaster translated it for him; that the person who would conquer Voldemort would be born at the end of July to parents who had already defied him three times.

Harry had gone pale as his favorite professor's meaning became clear. "It means—me?"

Dumbledore told him how it very well could have meant Neville Longbottom instead, that there was no way to know.

"Then—it might not be me?"

"I am afraid that there is no doubt that it is you," Dumbledore informed him, looking pained at having to say such a thing. Harry attempted to protest but the former continued, reminding him that Voldemort had marked him as his equal when the killing curse scarred his forehead.

"But he might have chosen wrong!" Harry countered, "He might have marked the wrong person!" He so obviously wished that were the case. His family looking on wished the same, even while wishing such meant Neville Longbottom would be in Harry's position, a position in which no one, much less a fifteen year old boy, should ever have to be.

Dumbledore continued, explaining that Voldemort had chosen the child he thought most dangerous to him. That child had been Harry. By marking his forehead, Voldemort unwittingly gave him the power he needed to escape him again and again as he had.

"Why did he do it, then?" demanded Harry, who looked like he didn't want to believe what he was hearing. "Why did he try and kill me as a baby? He should have waited to see whether Neville or I looked more dangerous when we were older and tried to kill whoever it was then—"

"That might, indeed, have been the more practical course," said Dumbledore, "except that Voldemort's information about the prophecy was incomplete." He told how someone had overheard the first half of Sibyll Trelawney's recitation but was discovered and thrown out before he could learn the rest. "…Voldemort never knew that there might be danger in attacking you," Dumbledore said, "that it might be wise to wait or to learn more. He did not know that you would have 'power the Dark Lord knows not'—"

"But I don't!" Harry interrupted, his voice weak, "I haven't any powers he hasn't got, I couldn't fight the way he did tonight, I can't possess people—or kill them—"

"Thank God for that," Sirius murmured, speaking up for the first time. James and Lily, while they said nothing, agreed wholeheartedly.

Dumbledore had interrupted Harry's rant once more and spoke now, speaking of the locked room in the Department of Mysteries and the force that had saved Harry from Voldemort's possession earlier that very night. "In the end, it mattered not that you could not close your mind," he said, "It was your heart that saved you."

Harry closed his eyes, as if attempting to stave off unpleasant thoughts, and asked, "The end of the prophecy… it was something about… 'neither can live…'

"'…while the other survives,'" Dumbledore finished.

"So," Harry replied hollowly, "so does that mean that…that one of us has got to kill the other one… in the end?"

Lily's heart had dropped like a weight to her stomach. She'd heard the words of the prophecy along with the rest of them, but she hadn't put the pieces together yet, interested as she'd been before in Harry's reaction to it all. Now she wondered if things could get any worse for her poor son. Even without Dumbledore's confirmation, she knew he would guess right. "Oh, my—" she started, but her voice broke and she said nothing more but stood with a lump in her throat as Dumbledore answered Harry.

"Yes."

James grabbed her hand and said nothing. Silence fell in the Headmaster's Office and for a minute, the same was true of the trio looking on. Sirius was the first to break it as he cursed violently and, bracing his hands on his hips, hung his head.

There was another short pause before James spoke. "I guess we shouldn't be that surprised. Lily looked at him incredulously. "How else could it end?" he asked logically, "Voldemort won't stop. I hate it just as much as you do, but…" He trailed off, shrugging helplessly.

"But Harry…" Lily murmured to no one in particular, her eyes again on their son, who still sat, ashen faced, across from Albus Dumbledore.

"It's not fair," Sirius said quietly, and then cursed again. He was clearly just as pained by the situation as the Potters.

James wrapped an arm around Lily now, pulling her close to him, both for her comfort and his. He lifted his free hand and placed it on Sirius' shoulder. He didn't react, but James knew he appreciated the gesture all the same.

"I feel I owe you another explanation, Harry," Dumbledore said hesitantly, breaking the heavy silence that still reigned in his office, "You may, perhaps, have wondered why I never chose you as a prefect? I must confess… that I rather thought… you had enough responsibility to be going on with." James felt this added truth, while Dumbledore had not been wrong in that decision, was like adding salt to an open wound. But then, at least everything was out in the open now.

Harry looked up at Dumbledore in time to see the single tear trace its way down his headmaster's face. He said nothing immediately, but nodded after a heavy pause. He seemed unaffected by this new information one way or the other, but after everything else he'd just learned, his lack of a prefect's badge was surely the least of his worries. Lily could remember few other times when she'd wanted to hug her son as much as she did now. It killed her that she couldn't. "Can I go now?" Harry asked finally, his voice quiet and tired.

Dumbledore studied him for a second before he answered, "Yes." Harry stood and crossed the office to the door, which was unlocked now when he turned the knob. "Harry," Dumbledore called to him and he turned in the open doorway, "I am sorry." Whether it was for his decision regarding prefects, for Sirius' death, or for the prophecy as a whole, he didn't say. Maybe he meant it for everything.

Harry met the headmaster's eyes, but said nothing, and after a second, he turned again and left. He made it halfway down the hallway before the tears finally forced themselves free. He ducked into an alcove and, as his loved ones watched unbeknownst to him, Harry let them who remained by the door.

Thanks for reading!