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Harry Potter and the Dark Lord's Equal

By ACI100

Year 2: The Looming of Shadows

Chapter 21: Promises and Prophecies

February 15, 1993

The Hospital Wing

4:28 AM

About twenty minutes ago, Harry had been forcibly ordered into a bed by Madam Pomfrey after she had shoved a potion down his throat that was supposed to dampen the effects of the Cruciatus Curse. Ron, Dean and Hermione were all sleeping behind drawn curtains, and Ginny had left with her parents for a diagnosis at St. Mungo's. Harry was supposed to be asleep, but it would not come.

Well, perhaps it might, but Harry did not want to give it an honest try.

As he lay in the hospital bed, looking up into the utter darkness of the room around him, he could practically see Riddle's dark blue eyes sparkling with malice. He could feel the pain of the Cruciatus Curse and hear Riddle's words echoing inside of his head.

"Oh, come now, Harry, we both know I understand you better than any of your friends. After we were both abused for years by muggles who weren't fit to lick the scum off of our boots, we arrived at Hogwarts. Two orphaned halfbloods, both of whom turned out to be magical prodigies. We're both easily the most gifted sorcerers of our generation, both of us deductive geniuses and gifted in the Mind Arts at a young age. We're probably the only two Parselmouths to have attended Hogwarts this century and to my knowledge, we're the only two students to ever find Salazar's fabled Chamber of Secrets. Come on, Harry, we even look alike. You may not like it, but we are similar, eerily so, even. There is no running from the truth, Harry."

Despite what Dumbledore had told him, Harry was scared more of those words than the monster that had spoken them.

Whether he liked it or not, they were true, and that terrified him above all else.

"Harry?"

Harry whipped around so quickly he winced, almost toppling off of his bed. While it was true whatever vile concoction he'd swallowed was slowly easing the agony inflicted by the Cruciatus Curse, it was still distinctly unpleasant to move. Particularly when he tried to move quickly in any given direction.

For a second, he fumbled for his wand, which he had promptly reclaimed from its spot on the bedside table, courtesy of Madam Pomfrey, and stuffed it under his pillow as soon as the matron had left the room. However, he quickly discovered he didn't need it.

"Neville." Harry sighed, actually smiling weakly in relief, as the boy sat up in the bed next to him.

"Harry, the Chamber, Lockhart, what-"

"Shhh!" Harry cut in, hushing his friend forcefully as he did indeed withdraw his wand. A second later, the Muffliato charm was active around them and he began his tale. He was honest, if selective with what he told Neville. For instance, almost none of his conversation with Riddle made the final narration.

"What are they doing with Lockhart?" Neville asked, after the two of them had spent about ten minutes discussing the more significant events in detail.

"I have no idea." Harry answered honestly. "I think Dumbledore did mention something about having him in custody. No clue what they'll do with him. Riddle said he obliviated a bunch of actual heroes and stole their stories. I doubt he'll be punished for the stuff he did under the Imperius Curse, but I imagine there's some sort of sentence for taking a dozen people's memories."

Neville scowled. "I hope they send him to Azkaban."

"So do I." Harry agreed, thinking back to the times where he and Dumbledore had discussed the true evil of the memory charm.

There was a long pause in which the two second year Gryffindors lay silently in the darkness.

"I'm sorry." Neville said quietly, causing Harry to peer curiously towards him through the darkness.

"What for?"

"I failed again. Just like last year. I ended up getting taken out and it left you to do it all alone."

"Neville, you were duelling somebody who was being controlled by teenage Voldemort. I could've never expected you to win that duel."

"You did though."

"Only because Lockhart had turned his attention to you. It gave me an opening."

"I still need to be better."

"We both have to be better. Don't forget, I'd be dead too if it wasn't for Snape." That thought did not sit well with Harry, but facts were facts, unfortunately.

"We'll just keep training." Neville vowed. "We'll work harder than we've ever worked before, both of us."

Harry nodded silently from beside him. "We'll have to," he agreed. "Especially if nonsense like this keeps happening every school year."

'Especially if I am going to kill Voldemort one day.' Harry internally added but did not voice aloud. Neville did not need to hear those thoughts.

Speaking of Neville, he was once again asleep soon after. Admittedly, it was rather uneasy, but it was sleep nonetheless. Harry, on the other hand, laid awake.

About thirty minutes later, the doors to the Hospital Wing opened, and Harry watched as Augusta stepped inside, wearing an old, black travelling cloak as her vulture-like eyes searched the room. Harry made no attempts at pretending to be asleep. Their eyes met, and she silently made her way towards him.

Once more, Harry found himself retelling the events of the evening. Again, he edited out much of his conversation with Riddle. He left in more of it than he had done when speaking to Neville, but he did not mention the parallels Riddle had drawn between the two of them.

Augusta was suitably scandalized that Harry and Neville had gone against her explicit wishes and put themselves in harm's way. Harry could tell, however, that she was not nearly as upset as she tried to indicate. On the contrary, she seemed to swell with pride when she learned that yet again, Harry had bested a form of Lord Voldemort, albeit with the help of Snape, on this occasion.

"I do have other news for you, before I fetch a dreamless sleep potion." Augusta put in. When Harry tried to protest, she silenced him with a harsh glare. "You need sleep, Harry. The human body doesn't function without it. But before I do that, there is some… less pleasant news that you should be aware of." When Harry stared expectantly, if nervously back at her, Augusta broke the news.

"I've been trying since Christmas to get a hold of Sirius Black's trial records. It's been next to impossible to even get answers on how I might do so. I know I had told you before that we wouldn't be able to get them unless new evidence came up, but sometimes, there are… ways to move around procedures. Every inquiry I made, no matter how subtle, was blocked. It is… suspiciously difficult to even get anybody at the Ministry to speak of it."

Harry's danger senses tingled once more. As implausible as the whole situation seemed, Harry had a bad feeling involving the entire debacle surrounding Sirius Black.

"I'm going to keep looking," Augusta assured him, "but I don't think anything is going to come of it."

As Augusta pat him gently on the leg and made to go and retrieve some dreamless sleep potion, Harry privately reflected that in his eyes, something about the whole situation felt very, very wrong.

February 17, 1993

An Abandoned Classroom

8:00 PM

Classes had been cancelled for the week following the miraculous closure of the Chamber of Secrets. The announcement had been made that next morning at breakfast and that night, the school had held a celebratory feast to mark the occasion. Halfway through the feast, a jovial-looking Hagrid had swept into the hall. Harry had been immensely uncomfortable when the man had rather insistently swept him up into a tight embrace, but he felt rather proud of clearing Hagrid's name once he had pulled his warring emotions under control.

For most of Wednesday, Harry had spent the day lazing with Ron, Dean and Neville. For now, Harry and Neville had decided to tell Dean and Ron almost the entirety of what had happened. For now, they left out the part about Tom Riddle being the sixteen-year-old incarnation of Voldemort. Granted, Harry was sure they would have to tell at least Ron eventually. After all, it had been his sister who had been most directly affected. Still, that was not a conversation Harry was looking forward to. Truthfully, he would rather not reveal that fact at all. Not until the two of them knew Occlumency, at the very least.

After spending some time with his friends, Harry had gone off alone to train until around a quarter to eight. At that point, he began to make his way towards the room he and Daphne perpetually frequented at this time on Wednesday evenings. She had not slipped him a note or any such prompt this week, but he knew she would wish to meet with him.

After the Chamber fiasco, rumours had been running roughshod through Hogwarts about what had truly happened. The contents of these rumours ranged greatly depending on who you asked, but there was one constant in all of them.

Harry Potter, the one-time supposed Dark Lord in training, had been the one to go into the Chamber of Secrets, fight off the monster of Slytherin and return those affected.

The pettiness of the Magical World never failed to amaze Harry.

From the future Voldemort to the next Merlin overnight, all because of some ridiculous rumours spread through the school. And then there had been Dumbledore, who had only perpetuated them further by formally presenting Harry with a special award for services to the school in front of the entire student population.

Yet another similarity between Harry and Tom Riddle. One that had only served to spur on the rumours and cause their fantastical nature to amplify even further. Harry honestly suspected that Dumbledore got a laugh out of how ridiculous some of them were.

Of course, the general idea of these rumours was half-right, but that was not the point.

Harry knew that at the very least, Daphne would have questions. More likely, knowing exactly how sharp his Slytherin friend was, she would have assumptions and well-formed estimations as to what had really happened.

Sure enough, that night served as one of the rare occasions in which Daphne was waiting for him in the room. She was currently seated on the edge of a desk, tapping the point of her shoe impatiently against the floor as she waited. When the door opened, her sapphire eyes focused intensely upon Harry, who had to consciously resist the urge to gulp as he entered the room, closed and locked the door, and cast his typical privacy spells upon the place. Daphne quickly added her own before getting to her feet and studying Harry critically.

"Well?" she asked, an eyebrow arching in question.

"Well…" Harry responded, trying to gauge how much she had put together.

"Oh, come off it, Harry." Daphne responded shortly, her voice rather more harsh than usual. "I'm not an idiot, you know. A professor and some students go missing. The next thing we know, the threat has passed and all are safe. Even the ones who were petrified are safe, even though they'll still have to wait for the Mandrakes to mature. And funnily enough, what do I hear? Rumours that Harry Potter was seen in the Hospital Wing too. Then, that very night, you get a rare award for special services to the school from Dumbledore and two-hundred Merlin forsaken points for Gryffindor.

"So, in twenty-four hours, you were spotted suspiciously soon after this whole Chamber business, given a rare award, and you probably just won Gryffindor the House Cup single-handedly. Oh, and there was the groundskeeper thanking you for clearing his name loudly enough for the whole hall to hear."

So, it was worse than Harry had thought.

This was the problem with having sharp friends, he supposed.

"Well?" Daphne asked again.

"I'm… not sure what you want me to say to all of that, Daphne."

Daphne sighed. "You'd make a terrible solicitor, Harry. Let's try this again. Were you or were you not involved in the capture of the Heir of Slytherin and/or the closing of the Chamber of Secrets? Or whatever the legendary thing actually is. I'm not having you lie on a technicality."

Regrettably, Harry had to concede that Daphne was good — really good.

He searched for a way to lie or deflect, he really did, but he could see none. None that would not be so obviously a lie that they would cause Daphne to snap and potentially become the catalyst for the second collapse of their friendship.

Reluctantly, Harry nodded and Daphne's eyes narrowed. "Did you or did you not fight a monster that may or may not have been connected to Salazar Slytherin?"

Harry hesitated. "I… technically not."

"And what is that supposed to mean, exactly?"

"I… wasn't the one to actually fight it."

"So you're telling me that there actually is a monster hidden somewhere in the castle?"

Harry winced. "There was."

"Okay, new question. Is the Chamber of Secrets actually a real place?"

"Daphne, I shouldn't be telling you any of this-"

"Oh, Merlin, Harry. I'm not going to go run around and spill your secrets. Whatever you want to say about Slytherin, we do secrets very, very well. I'm not even planning on telling Tracey or anything; I'm trying to figure out what you've done this time so I can figure out how I should actually feel about the whole thing."

Harry hesitated. Then, he opened his mouth, closed it, repeated the process one more time and then finally just decided to go for it.

"Okay, fine, a friend and I figured out what the monster was that was petrifying students. Don't ask because you wouldn't believe me if I told you. The Heir left us a hint since he was trying to lure me into a trap. I guess he must have been a Voldemort supporter who wanted revenge. Anyways, we went after them. There was a scuffle in the Chamber and then I freed Snape. He was the one who beat the Heir and took down Slytherin's monster."

"Uh-huh, and why were you in the Hospital Wing, exactly?" Harry winced and made to open his mouth, but Daphne's glare froze him in place. "Answer the question, Harry."

"I… might have been hit with a nasty curse while I tried to duel the Heir before I could get Snape free."

"That's not very specific, Harry. Try again."

"I answered-"

"What curse?"

Harry winced for a third time. "You wouldn't-"

"You'll never know if I would or wouldn't believe you if you never answer my question. Now, out with it."

"The Cruciatus Curse."

Daphne's posture went ramrod stiff as her eyes widened and her breath hitched. She stood there for a solid thirty seconds just staring at him before she took a deep, calming breath. "Okay, that's troubling. Since I already know you're not going to tell me who the Heir of Slytherin was, since Dumbledore is obviously trying to keep it under wraps, let me just ask you why on earth you thought it was a good idea to try and duel them?"

Harry flushed. "I didn't realize Snape was capable right away. I thought he was petrified like the others, but he was faking it."

Daphne took another deep breath. "So to summarize, you rushed in like a fool without a plan, got destroyed by this Heir of Slytherin and then luckily saw that Snape was able to help you?"

"Um… yeah, pretty much exactly that, actually."

Daphne sighed. "Right, new goal of mine, break your idiotic Gryffindor tendencies. The last thing we need is you rushing into a situation like that where a Slytherin isn't there to save your hide." Harry made to argue but the look Daphne shot in his direction made it clear how bad of an idea that was.

As she mercifully moved on to helping him through Runes, Harry reflected that, however much he liked Daphne, she could be rather scary at times.

March 14, 1993

The Great Hall

8:24 AM

As he had begun to do at the start of each and every day, Harry took the opportunity to thank whatever deity may or may not rule the world for the relative normality that had been his last few weeks at Hogwarts.

No plots seemed to be laid out against him and no students thought him the next dark lord. He had simply been able to focus on classes and extracurricular studies, as well as spending some time with his friends and, of course, the resumed Quidditch season.

Gryffindor's next match was set to be against Hufflepuff after the fast-approaching Easter Break. Ravenclaw had already played and narrowly defeated Slytherin. If Gryffindor beat Hufflepuff, it would set up the final match of the season, Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw, to be for the Quidditch Cup.

The only real negative thing that had happened since February's fiasco was that Dumbledore had, for the time being, ceased their private lessons. According to the Headmaster, Harry needed a break and they would resume harder than ever after the Easter Holidays. Of course, this had not stopped Harry from practicing like a demon, both on his own and with Fred, George, his three friends and the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. His Monday lessons with Flitwick in duelling had resumed as well, something the Gryffindor youth was profoundly grateful for.

Speaking of practice, there was something that was greatly bothering him.

The previous night, Fred had defeated him once more. Their duels were getting more and more competitive, but Harry still had no answer for the ace that was the doppelganger charm. He knew that it could be countered, but he had no idea of how one might go about doing so.

As if his very thoughts had summoned help from the sky, a familiar, elegant-looking owl began to swoop down towards the table. Recognizing it, Neville shot a rather vicious grin towards Harry, who covertly raised a very specific finger in his best mate's direction as the owl landed in front of the Potter Heir and stuck out its leg in a rather dignified manner.

Quickly, Harry removed the letter, ignoring Neville's smirk and the odd way that Parvati's eyes narrowed as she watched him tear open the envelope.

Harry,

It took longer than I would have liked for news to reach France, but I am so happy for you and your classmates that Hogwarts seems to be safe again. Whatever was going on inside that castle sounded like a nightmare as well as a danger.

Since you seemed so clueless about your public image at Yule, I should probably let you know that you have made the paper in France for receiving an award for special services to your school. The article is quite vague about the whole thing, but congratulations on receiving the award!

How are your classes and extracurricular studies going now that everything seems to be running smoothly again? And you never did answer my question about why you were asking about the Homenum Revelio charm.

I hope you have a safe and productive last few months of school,

All the best,

Gabrielle

Harry continued to ignore his friends surrounding him as he took out a piece of parchment and positioned himself in a manner that made it blatantly clear he did not want his response read over his shoulder.

Gabrielle,

Thanks for checking in. Everything seems to have calmed down here, thankfully. It was all a right mess and I was terrified Hogwarts would be closed. It's become a sort of home to me, so it would have been awful to lose it over something like that.

Thanks for the congratulations, but I really didn't do much. I just overheard some things about what was going on and passed it onto a professor, that's all.

Of course, that was a lie, but it was the one Daphne had helped him to construct. In her words, it was important to control one's public image and not let speculation run rampant. Harry often reflected that she had a shockingly acute political mind for a thirteen-year-old.

I asked about the Homenum Revelio charm because I heard a professor cast it, but had never heard of it before and obviously, I couldn't tell what it did. I don't suppose you know specifically how to cast it? I'm not sure how difficult it is to learn, but it seems really useful.

And since you've been such a help with magical stuff so far, I wondered if you knew a way to counter the doppelganger charm? I've been duelling older students for practice and I keep losing to that same charm. I do alright until it's cast, but then I just have no idea how to counter it.

How are things in France? How are your guys' classes? Do you all take standard exams at the end of the year like we do? Or does the scoring system work much differently? Honestly, I don't know much of anything about Beauxbatons, aside from what you told me at Yule.

Good to hear from you and I hope you write back soon.

Cheers,

Harry

March 26, 1993

The Headmaster's Office

8:00 PM

Harry had to admit that he was rather confused as he approached the entrance to Dumbledore's office. That morning, he had received two rather interesting bits of mail.

The first had been Gabrielle's reply letter. The annoying thing about her living in France, was that at times, the responses came quite slowly. Not because she did not immediately pen them, but because the necessary distance that their owls needed to travel both ways greatly slowed down the process.

His other piece of mail, however, had interested him even more.

A politely prompt note in a familiar, looping script requesting Harry's presence that night at eight o'clock.

Ordinarily, this would be the norm. But Dumbledore had made it quite clear they would not be resuming their private lessons until after the Holidays, even if he had made no move to stop Harry from training with Professor Flitwick.

That was the sequence of events that had a rather curious Harry Potter entering the Headmaster's office that night. There were two things on Harry's mind at the moment.

One was, of course, finding out exactly why it was that he was seated in front of his favourite member of the Hogwarts staff, and the second was to potentially float the idea out about Sirius's trial and the suspicious circumstances surrounding the suspiciously buried trial records.

"Good evening, Harry." Dumbledore greeted him cheerily, looking as if he'd de-aged by about a decade since the Chamber saga had thankfully concluded.

"Good evening, sir." Harry responded in turn, taking his customary seat across from the ancient sorcerer. Harry was too polite to outright ask what he was doing here, but Dumbledore evidently understood.

"I presume you are curious as to how you came to be sitting in front of me tonight?"

"A bit, yeah." Harry admitted. "I doubt you've changed your mind on teaching me until after Easter?"

"I have not, no. Loathe as you may be to admit it, recovery is every bit as important as progression. And I don't necessarily mean physical recovery, either."

Harry nodded, thinking back on the entire Chamber fiasco. "How's Ginny?" he asked carefully. Thus far, she had not returned to Hogwarts after being taken to St. Mungo's after Harry had rescued her from the Chamber.

"Miss Weasley is set to return to Hogwarts after Easter Break. There is… some trauma remaining that was brought on by Riddle's occupation of her mind, but the healers believe it will lessen in time as long as she is diligent in her own recovery."

"And Hermione?"

"Miss Granger is in perfect health."

"Did you have to wipe her memories again?"

Dumbledore looked pained at the question but reluctantly nodded. "Miss Granger proved once again too knowledgeable for her own good. Unlike Misters Weasley and Thomas, she discovered exactly who was being possessed by the diary. If I left her memories, I do not think it too large a stretch that she would one day deduce exactly who had been possessing Ginny Weasley. For Miss Weasley's privacy and the integrity of the secrets surrounding Lord Voldemort, I could not leave her memories in good faith, as much as it pained me to take them once more."

Harry did not much like it either. To call it morally ambiguous was generous, but he understood Dumbledore's justification and it was valid. If information leaked to the public that Voldemort was still alive, it could cause mass panic and political chaos.

"But alas," Dumbledore continued, "I did not call you to my office to discuss the Chamber of Secrets. I called you here, instead, to inform you of how, going forward, I will best prepare you to handle hazardous situations in the future." His attention piqued, Harry leaned attentively forward to assure he caught every word the Headmaster uttered.

"Our lessons will proceed after the Easter Holidays, as I have promised. However, there will be one major change. You asked me some time ago whether I could teach you practical magic. The type of magic that would one day be useful in combat. As pained as I am to admit it, arming you with such weapons has quickly risen on my seemingly never-ending list of priorities as this year has progressed."

Harry's heart leapt, but still, he was confused. "Sir, didn't you say you wouldn't have enough time to teach me Occlumency and combat magic at the same time?"

"I did, yes."

"So… we're stopping with Occlumency? I thought you said it was extremely important that I mastered it. I think I'm getting pretty decent, but I definitely haven't mastered it yet."

"You will not stop learning Occlumency, Harry. You will simply cease receiving instructions from myself."

Harry blinked. "How will I learn it, then? I know I have the book from you, but you need a partner to work on Active Occlumency, don't you?"

"Correct, once again."

"So, who's going to be teaching me?"

"Professor Snape."

Harry actually gaped. "What?"

"He is the only other person within this country whom I trust to teach you the finer points of the Mind Arts. I know you dislike him, but it is truly essential that you learn Occlumency."

"I don't want him in my head, sir."

"I trust Severus, Harry-"

"I don't." the youth cut in bluntly. "He was a Death Eater, wasn't he? You don't just get over something like that. Why do you trust him, sir? If you can give me a good reason why I should trust Snape, then I will." Of course, Snape had saved him, but that was not enough. He could have done it out of pure hatred for Riddle. Or to maintain his good standing with Dumbledore.

His motives were unclear, to say the least.

Dumbledore looked extremely conflicted as he seemed to ponder his options. "There are things I cannot yet tell you." he said regretfully. "Not because I do not wish to, but because they are not my secrets to tell. I trust Severus Snape with my life, though I understand you may not share my confidence. Upon your return from the Easter Holidays, Severus shall swear an Unbreakable Vow regarding his conduct during your Occlumency lessons. There is no greater assurance that magic can provide."

There was a part of Harry that still desperately wanted to argue, but he couldn't. Dumbledore was right. If an Unbreakable Vow would not satisfy him, then there would be nothing capable of doing so. If Snape did indeed swear this vow, he physically could not do anything Harry was not comfortable with during their upcoming lessons.

Regretfully, he had no choice but to reluctantly agree.

"Sir," he asked cautiously after Dumbledore inquired whether or not he had any more questions before his dismissal, "I was wondering if I could ask you a… delicate question."

Dumbledore looked intrigued. "What is the nature of this question, Harry?"

"It's… complicated. It's sort of a legal question, but it has to do with the end of the last war."

Dumbledore looked cautious, but he nodded warily. "Very well, you may ask your question."

"Why are Sirius Black's trial records locked up so tightly?"

Dumbledore stiffened immediately, but he nodded in thought a moment later. "Yes, I suppose it is only natural that you would be interested in the topic of Sirius Black. That is a delicate topic indeed." Dumbledore very clearly hesitated. "I must ask you, Harry, that no information I am about to share with you leaves this office without my express permission." Harry nodded immediately, though he was at once questioning whether or not Dumbledore would allow him to inform Augusta about whatever he was about to say.

"The reason none of what I assume to be Augusta's subtle and legally questionable inquiries have been successful is because there is nothing to find."

Harry blinked. "Uh… what?"

"Sirius Black never had a trial, Harry. He was sent to Azkaban hours after killing Peter Pettigrew and those muggles in London."

Harry's eyes widened. "But that's not right!" he argued. "What if something messed with the eyewitness accounts?"

"And what could have done that, exactly?"

"I don't know. Some sort of magical illusion, or something? I'm sure there are ways it could have been done."

"There are," Dumbledore admitted, "but they would have been far beyond Peter Pettigrew's magical prowess. Of that, I can assure you." Dumbledore studied Harry pensively. "It bothers you very deeply, doesn't it?"

"Yes!" Harry exclaimed, trying not to panic. If he had been suspicious before, his mind was now outright screaming "setup".

"Well then, let me assuage any worries you may have. After his capture, high-up members of the Ministry deemed it prudent to ship Sirius off to Azkaban without the due process of a trial. It was their way of ending the war once and for all and not increasing the drama surrounding Voldemort's fall. I caught wind of it before it happened. I was… less than pleased with the morality of said choice, but I did not stop them."

"YOU WHAT?"

"Let me finish, Harry. The reason I did not stop them is that by this point, I knew Sirius to be guilty of at least one crime despicable enough in my eyes to warrant time in Azkaban." Dumbledore paused. "Do you know what the Fidelius charm is, Harry?"

And that's when it clicked.

Dumbledore was one of the many who had been fooled. Dumbledore still believed Sirius to have been the secret keeper for the Potters.

"Sir, I know what you're going to say and it's not true! Sirius was never the secret keeper for my family."

If Dumbledore was surprised that Harry knew of the publicly perceived fact, he did not show it. "Pardon me if I am skeptical. I was personally told by Sirius, James and Lily that he had been chosen as their Secret Keeper. I am not saying you are deceiving me, simply that I believe you have been deceived. Where is it this information of yours is coming from, exactly?"

"My parents' will. It was unsealed on my twelfth birthday."

It was fast, so fast that Harry almost missed it, but Dumbledore's eyes widened and an emotion akin to panic showed across the old man's face.

"That is… a very reputable source." Dumbledore said quietly, clearly in deep thought. "I am… very confused as to how that could have been the case, but rest assured, I will take these new revelations into account." his eyes darkened. "If they are true, then I may well have unknowingly damned yet another innocent man to a decade long spent suffering a hellacious existence."

Harry met Dumbledore's eyes before standing to leave. "All of that can be undone if you can help me get to the truth, Headmaster."

Five minutes later…

Once Harry had left, Dumbledore sat in an Occlumency trance. He spent several minutes forcing his mind to replay every detail of his encounters with James, Sirius, Remus, Lily and Peter near the end of the first war.

He had seen nothing in them to indicate anything other than the fact that Sirius had been the secret keeper.

Yet, if the Potter Will stated it to be true…

Dumbledore sighed heavily, sagging in his throne-like seat. These last few weeks had been the most taxing in years. He had thought the pinnacle of that had been more than a month ago to the day, but evidently, that had not been the end of it.

The Past

February 15, 1993

The Headmaster's Office

4:26 AM

Severus Snape continued his hours-long pacing in the Headmaster's office, wringing his hands every few minutes as he went. To say that his stress levels were high would be obvious, yet it was not one strong enough to portray the entire depths of the truth.

Severus Snape was furious.

Furious with himself for allowing the adolescent bastard to get the jump on him, teenaged Dark Lord or not. Furious with himself for not unravelling the memory charm sooner, and furious with himself for his utter incompetence in the moments leading up to his defeat.

But most of all, Severus Snape was furious with Albus Dumbledore.

For so many reasons, Dumbledore had failed Snape, not just this year, but last.

Now, on this frigid, winter's night, hours after a fantastical confrontation in a fabled chamber that had been believed to be a work of fantasy, Severus Snape was steadfastly determined to get the answers he was looking for.

Finally, just as Snape turned on his heel to pace back away from the room's entrance, the door swung open, admitting the newly reinstated Hogwarts Headmaster and his pet phoenix. This occurrence also caused Snape to whirl around angrily, but Dumbledore held up a hand to forestall him. Only when the man had placed Fawkes back safely on his perch and taken the seat behind his desk, placing the now charred black book atop its surface, did he look up expectantly at his Potions Master.

"You've played me for a fool, Dumbledore!" Snape snarled, clearly enraged. Most men would have withered under Snape's venomous glare. Most men would have looked into his eyes and seen the nearly unhinged danger dancing behind them and taken the cue to retreat.

But Albus Dumbledore was not most men.

Dumbledore just peered back up at Snape with a raised eyebrow. Clearly, he realized the best thing to do would be to let his Potions Master vent.

"This whole time, nearly twelve years, it was supposed to be about protecting Lily Evans's son! This whole time, we had the plan laid out. We were to await his arrival at Hogwarts and keep him protected while we ourselves attempted to destroy the very dark lord who murdered his parents. The very dark lord, whom all these years, you have assured me lives on." Snape's lip curled. "Yet all these years, you have told me that you have never known how the Dark Lord evaded death. And now, all these years later, I've learned that you've lied to me this entire, God-forsaken time!"

"And what, exactly have I lied about, Severus?"

"EVERYTHING!"

Snape was pacing again, wringing his hands furiously as he tried to keep his deep, ragged breathing under control. His dark eyes seemed to gleam and bulge simultaneously in a way that made him look terrifying in the low light of the Headmaster's office. Terrifying in the way a man who is very obviously not in control of himself might look. A man who, days later, goes on to become a seemingly sadistic serial killer.

"The book!" Snape raged, whirling to face Dumbledore once more as he furiously jabbed a finger towards the destroyed remnants of the diary. "You knew about it all along! Maybe not the exact object, but you knew that somehow, the Dark Lord was storing his essence in an object, or objects, or whatever the bleeding hell else!"

"And what makes you say this, Severus?"

"You've known all along who opened the Chamber of Secrets. What did you say when the Creevey boy was petrified? Something along the lines of the who wasn't important? You knew even then that it was the Dark Lord, in one capacity or another. Yet you said nothing. Yet you aligned the pieces perfectly so that Potter was the only one who would figure it out. So that Potter was the one who would go after the Dark Lord. The same way that last year, you manipulated the situation into giving Potter the information he needed. And like last year, you knew exactly how your golden boy would act. You knew that he would put himself in harm's way and you did nothing to prevent it! How am I supposed to protect Lily's son when you keep trying so damn hard to get him KILLED! If this is your course of action, then what the hell am I doing this for?!"

Snape was panting now, actually panting from the exertion of laying himself bare for the Headmaster and screaming himself near hoarse in the process. Now, it was not only Snape who looked affected by the night's events. Whereas the Head of Slytherin House had looked furious, deranged and passionate, the Chief Warlock suddenly looked ancient, pained and exhausted.

"Please sit down, Severus. It is time that I explain things to you which I should have told you long ago. It is time that I explain the full scope of what it is we are fighting. But to do so, I need you to be calm and civil. And above all else, I need you to let me finish with no interruptions that are not questions which can be answered swiftly and simply."

Snape did not stop glaring at Dumbledore, but he did very reluctantly take a heavy seat across from him. Only when Dumbledore thought his counterpart was sufficiently under control did he withdraw his wand. With a casual flick, a cabinet on the far wall gently opened and a deep, ancient looking stone basin floated itself towards Dumbledore's desk, quickly settling atop it.

"Almost thirteen years ago, more than one year prior to Lord Voldemort's defeat in Godric's Hollow, I was privileged to hear a full, true prophecy, spoken by our eccentric Professor of Divination, Sybil Trelawney." Snape's posture stiffened immediately as a torrent of painful memories assaulted his psyche. "But of course, you knew this already, for it was also that fateful night when you carried the first half of the prophecy to Lord Voldemort. What neither of you knew, at the time, was how valuable the information contained in the latter half would be in the years to come."

Lifting his wand rather ominously, Dumbledore gently tapped it against the surface of the odd, silvery substance seductively swimming within the shallow depths of the basin. Snape's eyes widened and his breath hitched when a familiar figure rose from the basin, but not nearly as much as when the figure began to speak in a voice that sent shivers up and down Snape's spine.

He recognized that odd, raspy, enchanting voice. It was still the narrator of most of his nightmares, even to this day.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not… matter and magic shall become interchangeable as dominant forces battle for the very elements of the world...

"In their quest for control, revenge and power, the world itself shall become the domain of those two who are one... only together can they shape the power the Dark Lord knows not... and the power shall grant his equal the payment he seeks for all the Dark Lord has taken from him... either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..."

Ringing silence permeated Dumbledore's office as the two men sat in silence. Dumbledore looked completely calm, but he was wrought with tension, anxiously waiting to see how his Potions Master would react to these new, jarring revelations. For his part, Snape sat across from him, slack-jawed and stunned. He had, of course, been aware that there had been more to the prophecy than what he had carried to the Dark Lord all those years ago.

But now, Severus Snape realized the true scope of the situation for the first time. It took a rather monumental effort and years of practice in the field of Occlumency for the former Death Eater to stay calm but when he next spoke, his voice was void of any and all emotion.

"Either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives? So again, you have lied to me. This whole time, it was supposed to be about protecting Harry Potter. When, in reality, Potter is destined to kill or be killed in spite of our efforts?" Snape paused. "This is why you have sent him headfirst into these situations, is it not? In the hopes that he would somehow replicate his feat from more than a decade ago and vanquish him once more?"

"That is not my rationale, no." Dumbledore answered quietly. "The truth is, Severus, that I have been negligent in the way of Harry. Until very recently, my interpretation of the prophecy was more… literal. Either must die at the hand of the other. To me, this led me to believe that Lord Voldemort himself was the only one capable of killing Harry, as is the case in reverse. This is why last year, in the catacombs, I was completely unconcerned about dear Professor Quirrell. This year too. While Tom Riddle is technically Lord Voldemort, the prophecy speaks of the Dark Lord. At the time of his graduation, Tom Riddle had not yet ascended to that lofty title.

"It is true that all year, I have suspected him to have one way or another orchestrated the reopening of the Chamber of Secrets. However, it was my belief for a very long time that whatever form Lord Voldemort currently takes does not qualify as a candidate to kill Harry."

"Until recently?" Snape asked softly. "What has changed? As idiotically bold and foolishly risky as your logic is, it sounds… somewhat plausible."

"What I am about to tell you cannot leave this room under any circumstances. I trust your ability as an Occlumens so I shall not bind you with such things as an oath, but I need you to promise me this."

Snape nodded curtly and Dumbledore drew a long, deep breath.

"Do you know what a horcrux is, Severus?"

Snape paused. "I have… read the term in passing. Nothing beyond that."

"I am not surprised. A horcrux is any object which is enchanted to anchor a witch or wizard to the realm of the living after death."

Snape's eyes widened. "Impossible." he dismissed.

"Not quite." Dumbledore countered. "Surely you realize that what lived in that diary was no memory?" Reluctantly, Snape nodded. "The way a horcrux works, Severus, is by taking advantage of an act by a witch or wizard which is so heinous that it physically tears the soul. Once this is done, there is a ritual of some sort that allows for the person in question to place that fragmented part of their soul into the object of their choosing. At which point, the object will serve as a container."

Suddenly, Snape had gone extremely pale as his eyes widened. "But to damage one's own soul…" he mused, "it is a violation of nature itself, is it not? I can think of only one other spell which touches the soul in that sense."

"The Killing Curse, yes. It is no coincidence that an act of murder is a prerequisite for whatever warped ritual is required to create a horcrux. I have searched long and hard for ways in which Tom may have survived at Godric's Hollow. I… had heard of horcruxes many, many years ago and for a very long time, I had suspected that was how Tom had done it. It certainly fits with his obvious loss of humanity over the years. You will find, however, that researching horcruxes is nearly impossible.

"The Ministry has not only banned any magic pertaining to the soul, but they have buried references to it very deep. One of the last remaining tomes in the country actually rested within the Hogwarts library for a very long time. I was rather… insistent that it be removed, but Armando Dippett was not one to abandon tradition. By the time I took this seat as Headmaster, I had the book hidden away. Unfortunately, Tom Riddle had evidently found it long before.

"It took me many years to find hard facts about horcruxes. I was woefully unsuccessful in any and all attempts until last July, when I paid a visit to Greece and did my best to track down any information in regards to Herpo the Foul."

"He was the first recorded Parselmouth, was he not?" Snape asked carefully.

"Indeed he was. He was also the first recorded person to hatch the very monster you yourself have just destroyed. More importantly, for our current conversation, according to Magick Moste Evile and Secrets of the Darkest Art, Herpo was also the first wizard who ever experimented with the tearing of one's soul. Seeing as the Greeks were the first nation to mass theorize in regards to the soul and its workings in magic, this fact is hardly surprising. Last summer, I took an expedition to Greece to confirm several of my own... personal theories, as well as hopefully further my knowledge on the subject by studying the very creator of the thing itself.

"One theory that I do believe to be correct is that Tom did not make a horcrux. He made horcruxes, as in the plural."

Snape actually choked. "He did what?" The man seemed to take a moment to compose himself. "That… sounds impossible. What would be the consequences of violating nature more than once?"

"I imagine his humanity has paid the price. It would also explain the deterioration in his appearance over the years. You saw what Tom Riddle once looked like tonight. I am sure he shared little resemblance with the monster known as Lord Voldemort."

Snape nodded reluctantly. "How many do you think he made?"

"On that front, I do not know. Perhaps three? I can certainly see Tom trending in the direction of an arithmetically powerful number."

Snape paled. "Is… seven theoretically possible?"

"Ah yes, your mind has gone there as well, has it?"

"The Dark Lord bragged openly of pushing magic further than any other. It would be… in character."

"I confess, I have no idea whether or not a seven-part soul is even possible, let alone at all practical. Rest assured, I intend to look further into the process. Unfortunately, Herpo never seemed to have considered more than one."

"Has anyone?"

"I believe Tom to be the first, but that is no more than speculation on my part."

Snape took a deep breath. "So Potter must either kill the temporarily immortal Dark Lord or he will die at his hand?"

Dumbledore closed his eyes, looking positively ancient as he nodded slowly. "Correct."

"Is that what you have been teaching him then? All the countless hours he has spent locked away in this office with you?"

Dumbledore hesitated. "I have not been teaching Harry magic directly, no."

Snape's eyes blazed once more. "Explain!"

Dumbledore looked pensively back at Snape. "I must ask you once more to stay calm and to not interrupt me." Snape nodded curtly. "That night in Godric's Hollow, when Lord Voldemort sought to destroy the child of prophecy, he did not account for Lily Potter's sacrifice. The Killing Curse rebounded, striking its caster and tearing his soul forcefully from his body. That night, the Killing Curse did more than vanquish Lord Voldemort. It formed a connection between him and Harry. A connection far deeper than any two wizards have ever shared, if I am correct." Snape's eyes bulged as his skin seemed to lose all colouration. Before he could inevitably interrupt, Dumbledore pressed on.

"I imagine you have put the pieces together as I have. Voldemort's soul, already so fractured and unstable tore once more that night. While part of it fled to some unknown corner of the Earth, part of it sought preservation. A fundamental truth about the soul is that it cannot survive without a container, preferably one that is alive, if possible. That night in Godric's Hollow, when the Killing Curse rebounded, a piece of Lord Voldemort's soul desperately latched itself onto the only living thing it could find in that room. At the moment, a piece of Voldemort's soul lives on inside of Harry. Until it is destroyed, Voldemort can never truly die."

"So," Snape said in a soft, toneless voice, "the boy must die?"

Dumbledore's stare was pensive and it appeared almost lifeless. "For many years, I believed that to be the case. That was another one of my theories I sought to confirm in Greece. Funnily enough, Herpo did hypothesize about a living horcrux. For him, it was going to be his treasured basilisk. Unfortunately for my search, Herpo only toyed with the idea for a brief period of time. His speculations were nothing more than that. However, from what he wrote on the subject, I am far less certain of the fact that Harry must die. Indeed, I will be out once more this summer, investigating the topic further. It is my belief that Harry can be spared whilst the horcrux is still destroyed." Dumbledore fixed Snape with a hard stare.

"I know you think I have failed you, Severus, and you are in essence correct. For indeed, Tom Riddle was the Dark Lord, just an abstract part of him. In my wildest dreams, I did not think one of Riddle's horcruxes to be the cause of this year's fiasco. If I had realized how directly involved Voldemort was, I would not have risked Harry as a result of my admittedly shortsighted interpretation of the prophecy. You have my word that in the future, I will do my utmost to keep the boy safe. Additionally, I will search far and wide and will not stop until I find exactly how the horcrux can be vanquished and the container left intact. You have my word, Severus. I shall make an Unbreakable Vow if you wish it."

Snape studied him. "You've been teaching him Occlumency then? You fear the Dark Lord may become aware of and exploit this connection you speak of?" Dumbledore nodded and Snape stood. "I need no vow from you, Dumbledore. Going forward, I will be teaching the boy to defend his mind from the Dark Lord. If Lily's son is to kill or be killed, I shall have him armed with the weapons to do so. You can teach him better than I to stand against the Dark Lord. I shall not allow you to waste your time on his mind any longer. I shall teach him the necessary tools to defend his mind, and you will teach him the necessary tools to survive. These are my conditions for forgiveness, Dumbledore. Take them or leave them."

"Why, Severus, it touches me deeply that you have grown to care for the boy."

Snape scowled and withdrew his wand.

"Expecto Patronum!" he bit out in the tone one may expect from a severely wounded animal. Seconds later, a silver doe had coalesced in the center of Dumbledore's office. "I will never forget, Dumbledore."

With watery eyes, the Hogwarts Headmaster nodded. "Very well, Severus," he breathed, "I agree to your terms."

Author's Endnote:

First and foremost, I would like to apologize for missing my upload last Sunday. My betas were unable to edit the chapter and my work life got hectic. I knew that I would never post this unless they edited it anyways, so I decided to take a few days off of writing for my own mental health since I knew I would miss my update schedule, no matter what.

I apologize for that and it will not happen again. At least not until year 2 is concluded, at which point, there will be a lengthy delay between years.

There were very mixed reactions to a new prophecy reveal in my story "Harry Potter and the Ashes of Chaos" so we shall see how this one goes over.

Frankly, I'm just bored of the canon prophecy. It's been done so many times that you all know what it entails. It limits what I can do, to an extent. This way, I can at least add an element of mystery/suspense, and I did so without scrapping any of the prophecy. In AoC, I rewrote the whole damn thing and made it much longer. Here, I did not go quite that far, so we shall see what you all think.

And Dumbledore will tell Harry the prophecy sooner than he did in canon. I'm just putting that out there before you all think this is going to turn into an evil, manipulative Dumbledore. He will swing situations in his favour or in the perceived favour of those he holds dear, but this is and will always be a good Dumbledore.

Aside from that, I cut about 4k words from this chapter because I found them wholly unnecessary. I hope doing so did not ruin the flow of the chapter in any way.

Three chapters left in year 2, so I hope you are all ready!

Please read and review.

PS: The next chapter will release on Sunday, September 6th, 2020 at approximately 3:00 PM EST

Thank you to my lovely Discord editors for their additional corrections this week:

Asmodeus Stahl, Speedster, TauNeutrino and theblindsoldier.