Chapter 48
THE INITIATIVE
Dumbledore rapped his fingernails against the desk in his office, looking grave.
"Tom, I cannot approve of what you did tonight," he said. "Leading seven students, four of whom are underage, into mortal danger is not acceptable from a Hogwarts teacher."
"Harry thought Remus was in danger and didn't want to leave him –"
"You know perfectly well that Harry's vision was fabricated," Dumbledore said sternly. "It was exactly because of such visions that I tasked you with teaching him Occlumency."
"We prepared for the mission very carefully. Our precautions included protective vests, protective charms, protective and healing potions, invisibility and vastly more people than the Death Eaters expected. While the mission was, admittedly, still dangerous, I wouldn't say it was more dangerous than, say, sending first-year students into the Forbidden Forest at night to find something that can kill a unicorn with only Hagrid to watch over them or keeping the school open after the Chamber of Secrets was reopened."
Dumbledore was not amused by this veiled critique of his decisions on school management.
"Besides, it turned out great!" I continued before he could retort. "None of us was hurt – I mean those of us who went there first, Sturgis didn't accompany me. Nine Death Eaters were killed –" which was actually not true, but I had decided to count Bellatrix as well as if I did not know the truth about her fate, because I deserved the credit for killing her "– and six more renounced Voldemort, seven if we count also Robert Jugson junior. Once these defectors have changed the wards of their manors to keep Voldemort and the remaining Death Eaters away, they will give an interview to the Daily Prophet and tell about Voldemort's return. Tonight the Order of the Phoenix leapt forwards much more than during the entire past year!"
"That may be true, but we cannot be sure that taking such risks will pay off so spectacularly," Dumbledore insisted. "Rushing into battle cannot be our strategy, or our luck will run out very quickly."
"Well, if you think you must discipline me for endangering students, let me remind you of the condition on which I agreed to teach Potions: when the Death Eaters start some new activity, I will focus on the war, not teaching. Since it happened today, I am no longer a teacher of Hogwarts, and therefore you cannot fire me. However, I think you should know that I did not manage to grade all students; there's a pile of paperwork on my former desk waiting to be finished."
Dumbledore rubbed his forehead wearily and said,
"I will see to that. We will discuss the war further tomorrow once we have seen how the Daily Prophet will inform the wizarding community about the incident. Good night to you, Tom, I will have a word with Harry, and then I must try to contact Alastor and ask what madness came over him."
I left Dumbledore's office. Once I had stepped out of the revolving staircase, I sent Harry, who had been waiting in the corridor for his turn, upstairs.
When going down the marble staircase, I met Draco who was listening to Flint, Derrick and Bole telling about our adventure at the Ministry. He turned to face me when I came closer.
"So, it is true, then?" he said morosely. "The House of Lestrange has ended?"
"Yes," I said.
"There are not many pure-blood families left," he said.
"But the bloodlines still endure," I reminded him. "Your paternal grandmother was born Lestrange, your maternal grandmother Rosier and your maternal grandfather Black – all families that are either extinct or, in the case of Black, will soon be. I suggest you sire at least four sons. One will continue the line of Malfoy and the three others will revive the lines of Lestrange, Rosier and Black. All their wealth and prestige will be yours, and you will be the most powerful patriarch Britain has ever seen."
Draco's eyes lit up, and I did not need to use Legilimency on him to know that he was already planning what he would do with the power of so many prestigious families.
"Return home and be ready for the next offensive tomorrow," I said to Flint, Derrick and Bole. "I'll have to go to the bathroom."
They nodded, and we went on, Draco to the Slytherin common rooms, my servants to Umbridge's office (which we still used for Floo) and I to the second floor.
The bathroom I headed to was the one haunted by Moaning Myrtle. Rookwood's taunts had caused a sense of urgency in me about the prophecy of the Delphic Oracle, and now that Umbridge was dead, Voldemort's curse could be removed and Salazar's design returned to its original purpose. If Rookwood was correct and Voldemort was the prophesied Dark Lord, I might need the power Salazar had stored for the final attack on my brother.
The next morning I paced impatiently outside the rural house that was my official home, waiting for an owl to arrive with the Daily Prophet. It took longer than usual, because Lucius, Theodore and Robert had given their interview at such a late hour that the printing of the newspapers had been delayed. Finally I saw a speck approaching in the horizon, and Summoned the newspaper, eager to read all that I had ordered the defectors to tell the reporter.
PURE-BLOOD PATRIARCHS SPEAK OUT:
HE WHO MUST NOT BE NAMED HAS RETURNED
Three patriarchs of some of Britain's most renowned families gave a surprise interview to the Daily Prophet on Thursday evening. Lucius Malfoy, Theodore Nott and Robert Jugson unexpectedly contradicted Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge's assurance that there was "no truth whatsoever in these persistent rumours that You-Know-Who is operating amongst us once more."
These rumours were started a year ago by Albus Dumbledore at the ending ceremony of the Triwizard Tournament. Before the announcement of Messrs Malfoy, Nott and Jugson, few people of credibility have expressed their belief in the rumours.
"New information has come to our attention," says Mr Malfoy. "The Dark wizard who calls himself 'Lord Voldemort' used the Imperius Curse to force us to his service during the war. Now, with his return, he contacted us in his hubris and believed that we are truly willing members of his sorry criminal organisation called the 'Death Eaters.' This evening he ordered us to attack the Ministry of Magic, but we, obviously, refused to rebel against our rightful government."
The Daily Prophet saw evidence of numerous bodies of Death Eaters killed in battle being removed from the Ministry. Mr Malfoy confirms that among the attackers were several of those who had escaped from Azkaban in January: Rodolphus Lestrange, Rabastan Lestrange, Augustus Rookwood, Quentin Travers and Richard Mulciber. Equally concerning is that among the attackers were also Walden Macnair and Simon Avery, officials of the Ministry.
The Daily Prophet is first to share previously unknown personal information on the Dark Lord.
"I have no doubt that behind the name 'Lord Voldemort' is a person called Tom Riddle, who attended Hogwarts at the same time as I did," says Mr Nott. "His surname is not that of any known wizarding family. It seems obvious that his chosen name is meant to hide the fact that he is a half-blood at best. While he was a smarter student than most, his family background lacks the prestige Britain rightly expects from the members of society in important positions. That, I think, is the very reason he became a criminal."
Messrs Malfoy, Nott and Jugson are planning new political activity for Britain.
"For the past few years we, former members of the Hogwarts House of Slytherin, have had the honour of acquainting ourselves with a certain Tom Valedro," says Mr Malfoy. "Despite his young age, he is a very powerful wizard, and we trust him to become the great leader Britain has needed for generations."
Tom Valedro, one of the joint winners of the Triwizard Tournament, is currently the Potions Master of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and the Head of House Slytherin.
The Daily Prophet will report about the Ministry's reaction to the attack on its premises tomorrow.
The full interview of Messrs Malfoy, Nott and Jugson on pages 2 and 3.
One media-assisted assault, and Voldemort's credibility among pure-bloods was ruined. In the full interview there were more details, such as Voldemort's Muggle upbringing and his arrival at Hogwarts wearing ragged second-hand robes. Sharing these shameful facts about my origins had not been very pleasant to me, but a weapon was a weapon. Now I would just have to gather together all who heeded Lucius's opinion about my suitability as a great leader.
I contacted Flint and told him to gather all Slytherin alumni who had participated in the meetings I had arranged irregularly since the summer of 1994. But before I could meet them, there were important things for me to do at Hogwarts first.
My study group was eager to hear what had happened after I had taken some of the best fighters and left the Room of Requirement with Umbridge at wandpoint, but first I went to the Headmaster's office again.
Dumbledore was reading the Daily Prophet when I entered, and as I sat down, he said,
"Well, this interview certainly ensures that Lucius Malfoy, Theodore Nott and Robert Jugson can no longer be Death Eaters. How did you accomplish this?"
"It was my task as an Order member to undermine Voldemort's recruitment," I said. "I did more, as you can see, and wrecked his already existing organisation. Lucius was not happy with Voldemort calling him a coward for saving his own neck in 1981, and it was not difficult to offer him a better deal. As you said a year ago, I'm the most Slytherin student ever to pass the halls of Hogwarts. Lucius has noticed it too."
"Then I must thank you for being so very successful," Dumbledore said, his voice strangely dispassionate. "Alas, our side suffered the loss of a trusted ally as well. I have not been able to contact Alastor at all!"
"Oh yes, that intrigued me as well," I said. "I've now pondered the mystery of Moody's sudden murderous behaviour overnight, and once I approached the issue with the hypothesis that he is on Voldemort's side, many things suddenly started to make frighteningly much sense."
"You cannot be serious," Dumbledore said. "Alastor is one of the greatest Aurors in history. He fought in both of Grindelwald's Wars and did more than the rest of the Ministry during Voldemort's First War. The only reason he does not have an Order of Merlin, First Class is that he thought the medal was an animated object with a hidden poison stinger and obliterated it." The memory was enough to make him flinch.
"If five years ago someone had said to you that Moody would retire, you would've dismissed the idea as unthinkable, wouldn't you?" I argued. "Clearly fighting against the Dart Arts lost its appeal to him at some point. What if he then decided to find out how great a Dark wizard he himself could become with all he had learned from his enemies? Stranger things have happened when brilliant people go senile."
"Go ahead and try to convince me. I do not think you can, but perhaps your arguments can help me see something from a new angle. This is the method I have used with Alastor many times to shed some light to strange matters at hand."
"Let's start with the Triwizard Tournament. We first suspected that the one who put Harry's name in the Goblet of Fire was Sirius Black, but we have no evidence about him ever having had anything to do with Voldemort, and Remus thinks he might in fact be innocent, a scapegoat for Pettigrew's betrayal. I also suspected Snape, but you were convinced he was on our side. Karkaroff has truly abandoned Voldemort, his participation yesterday proves it. However, Moody was in perfect position to manipulate the events. He was in charge of security, wasn't he?"
"Yes, he was," Dumbledore admitted, looking very troubled. "Now that I think about it, he insisted on doing all the arrangements for the third task, including placing the Triwizard Cup in the maze."
"And afterwards, when you tried to convince Fudge about Voldemort's return, it was Moody's cutthroat demands and explicit insults that made Fudge so obstinate. Moody couldn't have caused a wider rift between you and the Ministry even if he had tried to, so maybe he actually did try."
"I should have noticed that his demands were uncharacteristic for him," Dumbledore muttered, rubbing his forehead again. "Alastor is rough on the surface, but he has a kind and noble heart. Or at least he once had."
"When he taught me Defence Against the Dark Arts, he was always most pleased with me," I said. "Every once in a while he told me how I would become a great fighter. However, from the moment I asked being accepted into the Order, he was against it, as if he wanted me to join Voldemort instead. After you tasked me with recruiting Slytherins into a conspiracy rivalling the Death Eaters, he didn't like it. And I wasn't the only one he was against. Arthur has been trying to recruit some Aurors for months, but Moody always claimed that they're too loyal to the Ministry. As a result, the Order has fewer capable fighters than it could have. He's the only Auror in the Order, which is insane!"
"And I always thought he was just concerned about people like Pettigrew," Dumbledore sighed.
"And who could the extremely capable and elusive Death Eater spy in the Order be if Snape was out of the question? Just like during the tournament, the one tasked with solving the issue was the one responsible for it."
"Merlin's beard," Dumbledore groaned.
"Surely you remember what Moody suggested as an alternative to Harry being taught Occlumency? He considered it better that Harry would be defenceless and susceptible to Voldemort."
"Ah, yes, I remember," Dumbledore said, looking sorrowfully down to his lap.
"What do you think about yesterday's events? It seems too much to be a mere coincidence that Moody happened to schedule a status update meeting for the very evening Voldemort sent his false vision to Harry, and even more suspicious is that the meeting took place behind wards that prevent communication. If anyone, Moody would see the obvious hazard in such wards, but he created them regardless. Then, after you learned that the guard at the door to the Department of Mysteries had been attacked, you rushed there, and Moody attacked you from behind. Clearly he hoped that there would still be more than a dozen Death Eaters fighting you alongside him, but once he learned that it was not so, he fled."
"Alastor always said that I only see the good in people," Dumbledore said. "We combined our ways of thinking – when he saw the bad in people, I did not need to even try! Now, with you pointing out these undeniable observations and the logical conclusion based on them, I see Alastor used my weakness against me! A betrayal like this hurts more than you can imagine, Tom."
That's the price of trusting people, I thought. I hope, for both our sakes, that you will never learn the truth about me!
"This is a most woeful turn of events," Dumbledore said. "I hope Alastor is only exploring the horrendous idea of himself as a Dark wizard… a twisted experimental test rather than genuine darkening of his poor soul. One day we will take him alive and give him the chance to explain himself."
"One day?" I questioned. "How about today?"
"We fought a battle just yesterday," Dumbledore said. "A victorious one, too! This is the moment for a celebration, not for brooding over such dire thoughts as new dangers to face."
"No, no, no!" I cried, my temper rising. "That's the exact opposite of what we should do! We will save our celebration for Voldemort's defeat! Don't you see? After yesterday's events, his plans and forces are in total disarray! We must strike now with all we've got and not rest until he is defeated! I would've wanted to proceed into a counter-attack right after we left the Department of Mysteries, but Lucius Malfoy pointed out that the wards of his manor must be changed as quickly as possible."
Dumbledore seemed to have totally forgotten his sorrow at Moody's betrayal. Once again he had the obnoxious smile on his face – patient, benign and condescending.
"You are so young, Tom," he said pleasantly. "I cannot blame you; one must be young before one can become old and accumulate enough wisdom to know what to do in a situation like this. As I told you yesterday, our strategy cannot be to rush into battle. Lives are at stake, Tom! We must plan all our steps carefully to minimise losses."
I could not believe what I was hearing. There was a slight hope that he had not understood my key point, so I tried to reason further.
"Headmaster," I said, trying to mimic the patience he was speaking with, "you are experienced as a military commander, so surely you understand the situation! Whatever Voldemort's plans are, they involved around two dozen Death Eaters. He lost over half of them yesterday. Once he gets today's Daily Prophet into his hands, he will know that Malfoy, Nott and Jugson have renounced him. These defectors don't know where his headquarters is, but they know the locations of many of his hideouts, such as Lestrange Manor and the houses of Macnair and Avery. They know something about his plans, they know where Fenrir Greyback's werewolves are hiding, where the giants are camping and so on. However, this intelligence expires very quickly! If we wait for one day, Voldemort will relocate his hideouts and his followers. The best way to minimise our losses is to attack now and keep pushing, never letting him catch his breath! The war soon over if we just seize the moment!"
The infuriating smile did not waver one bit. Dumbledore had welcomed reasonable arguments when we had been discussing Moody, but suddenly he had changed. Now, on the opposite side of the desk from me was a haughty old wizard who was so sure of himself that he did not need to heed anyone else's ideas but his own.
"Tom, I have not spent a year to carefully plan a strategy for the Order…" he began.
"A strategy you planned with Moody!" I exclaimed. "Moody, the the very person who leaked all information to Voldemort! Using a strategy an enemy agent planned so that it fits the strategy of the enemy is beyond insane!"
"Let me finish," Dumbledore said, still as patient. "Of course we will change our strategy – but we will have one. You are speaking about throwing it all away and just keeping going, trusting your hunch."
"But," I said, having small difficulties to speak, "but… if we stop to plan a new strategy, we will lose our initiative! Malfoy's intelligence won't be of any use if we don't act on it right away!"
"In a war," Dumbledore said, "you have to learn to choose the best of bad options."
There was a brief, tense silence.
"So, the Order will stop to plan," I said and stoop up, and Dumbledore nodded. "We will waste the initiative. Could you please tell me even one reason why you should be sitting comfortably here instead of doing something to defeat Voldemort?"
"Just one?" Dumbledore said, looking as if he was fighting against a sneer worthy of Snape. "Well, all of a sudden I got an awful lot of Potions related paperwork to busy myself with." He pointed at the pile of papers on his desk that I had left behind the previous day.
Have fun, I thought as I stomped out of the Headmaster's office. While you're at it, I will defeat Voldemort!
I was furious. Dumbledore downright refused to listen to reason. He was nonsensical! He was a strategically inept old fool! He was…
No, on second thought, I could not believe that the most powerful wizard in the world was as stupid as he seemed to be. The reactive strategy had been Dumbledore's modus operandi during the two previous wars too. It had to serve some unknown plan of his. He just did not want anyone to know about it, that was why he had uttered all kinds of excuses. The change from someone who had asked my opinion concerning Moody's behaviour to someone whose opinions would not budge was too abrupt. Dumbledore had just been acting the part of an idiot, because his true plan required Voldemort to remain undefeated for some time. What plan could possibly require that was far beyond my comprehension, but my inability to fathom his reasons did not mean there were none.
There was one thing I was certain about. Whatever Dumbledore's reason was, it was so sinister that there would come a certain moment in the future after Voldemort's defeat. Then I would look wistfully back to the relatively carefree days when putting an end to my twisted brother had been my worst trouble.
The Room of Requirement was already full when I entered. Students of all Houses had gathered there, and over the course of months, cooperation in battle simulations had created a strong team spirit among them, stronger than any House rivalries they had felt earlier. And they had learned to consider me their leader. It was time to reap the harvest of my hard work.
Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Fred, George and Cedric were standing next to the teacher's podium that I used when speaking to everyone. I had not had the time to ask what they had thought about the battle of the previous evening, but I hoped they still had appetite for some more of adventures like it. Remus was also present for some reason; I would have preferred that no members of the Order would be hearing what I wanted to say, but I did not change my plan.
I enlarged my copy of the Daily Prophet and sent it hovering in midair.
"Lord Voldemort has truly returned," I said. "There are not many people in this Room whose families did lose someone when the monster was active last time. Yesterday he sent his followers to attack the Ministry of Magic, but thanks to Messrs Malfoy, Nott and Jugson, the attack failed and many Death Eaters were killed. I would be modest not to mention that some credit goes to me, too."
A few people clapped, but most were too stunned by the news.
"You have experienced yourselves how one must act in a situation like this," I continued. "When your opposing army suffers a great loss and retreats, you must not stop to tend to your wounded comrades, but to press on. You know very well the term initiative. Yesterday, we gained it in our true fight. However, Headmaster Dumbledore thinks we should celebrate our success and enjoy the end of the school year."
Many voices cried out in anger.
"We will not stop and waste our initiative!" I yelled in my loudest and most thunderous voice. "We will not wait for Lord Voldemort to prepare his counter-attack and to come hunting after us like he hunted many of your parents! We will press on and make him the prey!"
Hundreds of roars replied in agreement. I saw an eager fire burning in Harry's eyes, I saw Ginny's vengeful grimace, I saw Neville Longbottom's determined frown… the righteous anger and fervour spread and engrossed even many of those who had no personal reasons to hate Voldemort. I knew it might not last for long, and therefore it was necessary to make them do something irrevocable as soon as possible in order to make them personally invested in my fight. Then there would be no turning back.
"Move out!" I cried. "Remember logistics! Those with Apparition license will group with those without, and once we're out of the grounds, we will depart! London awaits!"
The throng of students began to move. I hurried out of the Room first, followed closely by Harry and Remus.
"Tom, what are you doing?" Remus asked, distressed.
"What must be done," I said without looking at him. "Dumbledore has betrayed my trust for the last time. Do you remember Pettigrew's words? 'Sometimes I wondered if he wanted more people to die.' I do not want more people to die. This is for the Greater Good."
"You're using child soldiers," Remus said.
"What does it tell about this nation that only children are willing to put an end to a monster like Voldemort?" I snapped. "They are in danger in any case. However, if you're concerned about their well-being, feel free to come along."
Remus was silent for a moment, and I knew without looking that his mouth was gaping open.
"All right, I'll come," he said quite feebly. "However, what I came here for was taking Harry for a little excursion. Dumbledore approved of it. It shouldn't take too long."
"I don't care if Dumbledore approved of it or not," I said. "Do whatever you like as long as Harry will be in Diagon Alley in two hours. That's when we meet with Lucius and start exploiting his inside information."
"I will be there, Tom," Harry said.
With that settled, we continued our march down the marble staircase and out of the oaken doors.
I was sure Hogwarts had never before seen hundreds of students just leaving without permission. While walking across the grounds, I made quick estimates of the group I was leading. Even though some had already had second thoughts and lagged behind, almost every seventh-year student was still following, as was a clear majority of sixth-year students, around a half of fifth-year students and far too many younger ones. I would, obviously, be accepting only the three oldest age groups with me, because the younger ones would just be in the way. Maybe a handful of the most promising of fourth-year students like Ginny would be of actual use. But it was nice to be escorted by a huge crowd of enthusiastic children to war. It was a remarkable boost of morale.
Members of the Hogwarts staff were staring in disbelief as I lead the older students out of the grounds. I hoped Dumbledore was watching as I turned to look back at the castle, standing between the two statues of winged boars. I gave a sardonic wave, barked orders to the students with Apparition license, grabbed the arms of Ron and Hermione and Disapparated.
Crouch Manor was located in Stirlingshire, Scotland. It had once been one of the most important places of the British magical high society. Voldemort's First War had put an end to the gatherings of influential people, but they had not resumed after the war's end. Due to the misfortune that had struck the House of Crouch, the manor had become a gloomy and silent place – and then Lord Voldemort had made it his secret headquarters.
The Dark Lord was sitting at a huge table, staring in dismay and rising fury at the Daily Prophet. The first year after his reincarnation had not gone as planned. After all the hard work of rebuilding his power base, he currently had fewer followers than at the beginning.
Bellatrix had wandered away and was undoubtedly dead. Snape had disappeared from both him and the Order of the Phoenix and was most likely starting a new life on an uncharted island in the Pacific Ocean. Malfoy, Jugson, Crabbe, Goyle and the Notts had defected. The Lestrange brothers, Avery, Dolohov, Macnair, Travers, Mulciber and Rookwood were killed. That left only Bartemius Crouch junior, the Carrow siblings, Gibbon, Pettigrew, Rowle, Selwyn and Yaxley – only one of them among the elite of the Death Eaters.
The Ministry would be sending the Aurors after him. The Order would strike soon as well, and there would be no more inside information about its plans. Most of his financial support was gone. Creating an army of criminals and Dark creatures would become much more difficult. His conquest of Britain was failing quickly. And he still did not know the contents of the prophecy.
Luckily, he had one remarkable ace up in his sleeve.
"Come," he commanded, and a figure like an Inferius shambled to him. "It's good that Britain is in need of a rough-handed Minister for Magic. When you're in charge, the one to lead the warfare against me will be – me."
The Imperiused Bartemius Crouch senior nodded absently.
The graveyard of Godric's Hollow was a beautiful, peaceful place, far from the horrors of the war. Large oaks, maples and elms created a vast canopy that left the tombstones in shadow even on sunny summer days like the one when Harry and Remus walked along the paths in silence. It felt good for Harry to visit the tomb of his parents the day after learning about the prophecy that had determined his destiny as the only one who could defeat Lord Voldemort.
He studied the tombs as he slowly walked past them. Muggles and wizards shared the graveyard as some kind of a reminder that they were all equal before death. Wizards had a longer lifespan than Muggles, but eventually they too succumbed to their mortality, even Nicolas and Perenelle Flamel… but not Voldemort.
They stopped for a moment before the tomb of Kendra Dumbledore and her daughter Ariana. There was a fresh bunch of white roses placed in front of it; neither Transfigured nor magically preserved. Dumbledore was clearly visiting often and taking good care of the tomb of his mother and sister.
Not far away was a newer marble headstone that marked the last resting place of James and Lily Potter. Harry approached it very slowly and silently, eyes on the names of his parents, not heeding the large black dog lounging on the grass next to the headstone. He placed the flowers he had brought with him in front of the headstone just like Dumbledore had placed roses on the tomb of his family, and hoped he could have done so many times before.
The black dog got up and came closer, wagging its tail merrily. Remus scratched it behind the ears, but did not disturb Harry by speaking.
Eventually, Harry focused his attention on the strange words engraved on the headstone.
"The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death," he said. "What is that? Who put it in there?"
"I did," Remus said. "After Lily and James died and Sirius was sent to Azkaban, I was the closest one to them remaining. That's why I arranged their funeral and this headstone. I assume that's some kind of a family motto, because it's engraved on the headstone of your grandparents too, and of their parents."
"A Potter family motto," Harry said quietly. "Somehow I feel like I should've known it before now. How long do you think it's been passed down from generation to generation?"
"I did some research about it," Remus said. "It seems the motto has been adopted from the family of Peverell when their last daughter married one of your Potter ancestors and the name Peverell went extinct. There are some Peverells buried here, and the oldest headstone with that motto is of one Ignotus Peverell, your very distant ancestor who lived before even Hogwarts was founded."
"Did my dad ever tell you anything about the motto?" Harry asked.
"Once he jokingly told about some kind of a quest passed down in the family. I didn't think about it much before I did my investigation about the motto, but then I remembered what he had said."
"A family quest to destroy death?" Harry mumbled. "That sounds a bit like Death Eater to me."
"Voldemort wants to be immortal himself," Remus said, "but he doesn't value the life of anyone else. Perhaps you could think about the motto like this: Voldemort is the bringer of death to many innocent people, and you must destroy him in order to save the innocents."
"Yeah, I guess that makes sense," Harry said. The prophecy had said that neither could live while the other survived…
"I have visited this place regularly for many years," Remus said. "Every time I'm filled with sorrow as I remember the great change that happened. Even despite the war, it was a happy time for me… to be a friend of such wonderful people as your parents, Harry. Our little community was very welcoming towards me, and I was probably the happiest werewolf in the world. Then everything was lost…"
The large black dog whined miserably.
"I had been friends with Peter for a decade," Remus continued. "Your parents trusted him to be their Secret Keeper, but he betrayed them."
The black dog growled, and Harry looked at it in confusion.
"Pettigrew?" he asked. "I thought –"
"No, Harry," Remus said. "It is time you learned the truth about what happened then… and the time you truly met your godfather."
The black dog turned into a man.
Posted on the 27th of June, 2021.