Disclaimer: The square root of Harry Potter is 3474.68617287950193379744401683. But he still belongs to J. K. Rowling. If he belonged to me, his square root would be much smaller.
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Harry approached the Headmaster's office with trepidation. He'd been keeping up on his studies, more or less. He could name most of the students in his class, and had actually spoken to a few of them even without Pansy there. Professor Snape seemed a little irritated by him sometimes, but from what he could tell he was often irritated with most of the students. (Draco being the exception, for some reason.)
Harry didn't think his head-of-house would have ordered him off to the Headmaster for anything bad, surely.
"Unhappy Cupcakes?" Harry said tentatively. The gargoyles flanking the office entrance scoffed with laughter, but the door between them swung open to reveal a constantly revolving staircase, like a spiral escalator moving both upwards and downwards at once. It made Harry feel slightly dizzy watching it, but he stepped forward anyway. It wouldn't do to be late.
The stair moved him upward, and brought him to a stop at the landing. An archway led into Professor Dumbledore's office. The headmaster sat on a tall three-legged stool, leaning over and whispering to a bedraggled bird on a perch. The creature looked like it was on the verge of collapse, but kept making gently little trilling notes that Harry felt resonate all the way through his soul.
An auburn-haired girl sat to one side, two intricate braids trailing down on either side of her face. Harry couldn't make out her features, as she was leaning forward toward the headmaster.
"Ah, Harry," Professor Dumbledore said, nodding and waving for him to approach. The stool shrank down, converting itself into a comfortable armchair, and the bird trilled one final time and fell silent.
"Sit, sit. We have much to discuss."
Harry sat, in a chair much like what the girl sat in, but with hints of green and silver embroidery trailing through the dark upholstery.
"Sirius didn't like your demands," the girl said. "He insisted he ought to be here. The fact your wards didn't admit him made him furious."
The headmaster nodded once, a smile crinkling his face. "He was a headstrong one, your godfather," he said. "But a good man, for all that."
Harry was completely lost, and very confused. What was the point of this meeting? The girl looked about the right age to be attending Hogwarts. . . was she a mid-term transfer? If so, why was Harry here?
As though reading Harry's thoughts, the headmaster turned and addressed him.
"Harry, you must understand, the age into which you were born was unlike this present peace. Voldemort's forces were insidious, ever-present, unstoppable, unfindable. He himself was hardly more than a name, whispered in darkness to frighten those who opposed him. Your parents had contingencies prepared in the event that they were to die—"
Harry unconsciously gripped his wand. Yes, their 'contingencies' were to dump him with an aunt and uncle who hated him, who cared nothing for him, who made his entire childhood a living hell. . .
"—as in fact they did." Professor Dumbledore continued. "What they did not prepare for, however, was the possibility that they might die the same night the war ended. Their will remained legally binding, and for the protection of you both, their desires were carried out."
Harry frowned. 'You both'?
"Harry James Potter, this is your twin sister. Verity Lily Potter, this is your twin brother." The two children stared at each other, and Harry saw his own shock mirrored on Verity's face.
"When Lord Voldemort first targeted Harry, Verity was sent away with their best friend, Sirius Black, to be protected away from the crisis. Harry, you remained with your parents under the deepest protective charms known to wizardkind, but even that proved insufficient. With power unknown to us, Voldemort broke through our greatest defences and killed your parents. Yes, you both know the story already, but I must emphasize this point. Voldemort killed your parents. In cold blood, for no other purpose than to get to Harry."
Harry's frown deepened. He could tell Verity was just as confused. Lord Voldemort's plans often seemed crazy, everyone knew that.
"I tell you this, because I have begun to suspect that there is a deeper plan at work. One which the pair of you are entangled in so deeply that to leave you in ignorance would be the utmost folly. You have my deepest apologies, I would not have placed this burden upon those of your tender youth did I not truly believe there to be no other choice. For the greater good of wizardkind, you must—"
"And witchkind," Verity said, crossing her arms. "It's witchcraft and wizardry, not just wizardry."
"For the good of all witchkind and wizardkind," Professor Dumbledore continued, his eyes twinkling for but a moment before regaining their stern countenance, "the pair of you must know the truth so that you can face your destinies with intelligence and preparation. Verity, your guardian has long known that there was something special about you. You've been taught the secrets of every powerful family within our Order, prepared to fight from the moment you could first hold a wand."
Verity held her chin up, clearly proud of the fact.
"Harry, on the other hand, was trapped in a situation which could not possibly be more opposite to your own. He lived with muggles, never even touched a wand before this year, and while he can improve with dramatic speed when he puts his mind to it, his motivation seems lackluster and patchy. He needs you, Verity, and you will need him."
"You want me to take him as an apprentice?" Verity asked, looking Harry over with a considering look.
Harry didn't like this at all. He wasn't something to be just foisted off on some girl, as though he didn't already have a teacher. Professor Quirrell was doing a great job teaching him. They may not have access to 'the greatest secrets of powerful whatevers' but Harry was improving just fine.
Normally, he'd have been furious at this treatment, but as happened every time he was in the headmaster's presence the aura of peace that surrounded the older wizard soothed and calmed his rage, suppressing the sharpest edge of his irritation, so he was only annoyed.
"Harry must continue his studies here, and you must continue your studies with Sirius. However, I'm sure we can arrange a few hours a week. Saturday evenings, perhaps?"
Saturday evening was Harry's informal practice time with Pansy. She needed help with her pronunciation as much as Harry needed help with his wandwork, and he was not going to give that up just to be pushed around by his twin sister.
Suddenly the reality hit him. Sister!? He wasn't alone any more. He wasn't just a lone orphan, he was. . . part of a family?
Pansy would understand, they could reschedule easily enough. Harry had never felt so overwhelmed, the conflicting confusion and hope and unbreakable joy that soared through him. He wished he was better with people, better with relationships, better able to understand emotions and responses that were expected of him.
He knew with complete and utter certainty that Verity was his to protect. The love that he'd never before had a name for or anyone to give to, of an older brother for his precious sister, clicked into place as though some part of him had always been waiting. She may be the one teaching him for now, but Harry knew, felt absolutely sure, from that point on he would guard her life with his own.
They were both watching him expectantly, and Harry abruptly snapped out of his mental flood.
"Saturdays are fine for me," he said. "I'll have to rearrange some things, but it's easily doable."
He glanced over at his sister, his sister! and grinned.
"That works for me as well," she said, smiling back at him. "I can't wait to get to know you, Harry. I knew our parents were killed, but I'd never imagined I had a brother hidden out there somewhere."
"That was for your - both of your - protection," the headmaster said sadly. "So long as neither of you were aware the other had survived, you could each remain safe from the darkness that would seek to devour you both. I regret, so deeply, that neither of you were able to have the childhood together you so deeply deserved. And I regret more the burden which I must now place upon you both. The reason Harry was targeted by Voldemort. The reason Verity was sent away. A prophecy."
Harry nodded. Verity gasped and her eyes went very wide.
"The ones with the power to subdue the Dark Lord approach," Professor Dumbledore intoned, his voice deep and resonant, rising and falling in a completely different pattern than his usual speech.
"Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies. The Dark Lord will mark him as his equal and their power will be unmatched. Guarded by love and empowered by hatred, they will have power none other has known. The ones with the power of darkness and light will be born as the seventh month dies."
Harry felt himself trembling.
"I have had many years to ponder this riddle," the headmaster continued. "I concluded that 'darkness and light' could refer to the ancient Dark secrets Sirius has access to through his family, and those of the Light houses we already share together. That is why I insisted, Verity, that you be taught everything. Your brother needs the same access, to secrets both Light and Dark, if the prophecy is to be made true."
"Prophecy is a guide, not a promise," Verity said, with the air of one quoting.
"Precisely," Professor Dumbledore agreed, smiling. His eyes twinkled. "And this prophecy seems particularly in our favour. The power to subdue the Dark Lord."
"But Lord Voldemort is dead," Harry said. "So what Dark Lord is it talking about?"
"Ah, Harry, that is a different point altogether. On the whole, I'm afraid he is not."
"Not?" Verity asked, her voice quiet.
"No. Alas, the prophecy says you'll have the power to subdue the Dark Lord, not to destroy him. He has long been the practitioner of many secrets of such darkness and depravity that even I know only the rumor of their existence. He has bound himself to life more times and in more ways than any other wizard in all history. Even the Darkest wizards of eras past never dared to delve even a fraction as deep into evil as Voldemort."
"But if that's all, then didn't I already do that?" Harry asked. "Whatever I did when I was one, he vanished. He's never been heard from again. So, there, he's been subdued. End of story." He quailed under the headmaster's disapproving stare. "Right?" he finished weakly.
"The prophecy clearly refers to they, them. It is a plural prophecy in every way. Multiple people. Multiple encounters. The Dark Lord would mark 'him' as an equal - that's you, Harry. But those who can subdue him, are both of you."
"Individually?" Verity asked. "Or only together? Is it implying that we need to combine our abilities to subdue him for good? That what we do alone is only a temporary reprieve? That. . . that he'll come back, probably sooner than later?"
"Indeed," Professor Dumbledore said. "That is what I fear. I have begun to hear whispers, rumbles of the past resurfacing. I have felt shiftings in the pattern of magic, ripples in the powers of the world. I fear we are running out of time. I'd originally planned to introduce you over the summer, send Harry to stay with you and Sirius to train then, but I fear we can no longer afford to delay. Something is coming."
"Why now?" Harry asked. "Why today, and not next month or last? What changed?"
Professor Dumbledore chuckled fondly. "My little Slytherin. Of course you want to know." His face grew solemn. "There is an item of greatest power, which up until now I have been working full-time to protect. Now, at last, the defences are complete and I can trust them to hold against any assault. Now is when my attention can turn to other matters, and things I now realize I have long neglected."
He winked at Harry.
"Why not last month? Because I was engaged completely in unraveling the innermost secrets of an ancient artifact and rewriting its being to serve my purposes. Why not next month? Because the sooner you begin to prepare for your shared destiny, the better chance you have of surviving it."
There was silence for a moment, then Verity spoke.
"Empowered by hatred," she said faintly. "That's why you said what you did at the start, about Voldemort killing our parents. So we could hate him properly."
Harry shifted slightly, unsure of his stance on the matter. Lord Voldemort was obsessively directive in his approach, completely without morals, but he was also a genius spellcrafter. His existence may have caused great harm, but Harry couldn't help but think that the fact he wasn't dead after all could be a great gift to wizardkind. (And witchkind.)
Subdue, after all, didn't have to mean something like 'violently physically/magically restrain.' It could just as easily mean symbolically; subdue his desire for evil, 'subdue the Dark Lord' by bringing Lord Voldemort around to a more moderate approach.
After all, if Lord Voldemort was a beacon of hope and wizarding (and witching) progress, he would no longer be the Dark Lord. Prophecy fulfilled.
If Lord Voldemort had chosen to mark Harry as his equal, it may be possible to have a rational and reasonable debate with him. Surely, when faced with the true reality, even a slightly-insane Dark Lord would see that there was a better option.
After all, the prophecy had offered no promise that Lord Voldemort could win, only that he could be subdued. Give him a loophole, instead of a battle to the inevitable, offer a chance to begin anew. Perhaps even together. Harry could only imagine how much he could learn from someone so powerful and intelligent.
He decided he'd have to discuss the matter with Professor Quirrell, see if he had any ideas for how to approach such a task. If Harry planned to engage the greatest Dark genius of the era in an intellectual debate in order to bring him to the right side, it would take a truly prodigious amount of preparation.
Somehow, though, Harry just didn't feel that empowered. Hating Lord Voldemort seemed wasteful.
Perhaps Verity was the one empowered by hatred. But that would mean Harry was 'guarded by Love' and that sounded off. Her guardian was the one who loved her. Could she be both? But it said 'they' specifically. Or were they both supposed to be both?
Verity was empowered by hatred. Verity was guarded by love, both Sirius's and Harry's own. Verity knew powers of darkness and light. The only thing Harry had was that he'd been marked as Lord Voldemort's equal. And in that case, the line about 'their power' might just as easily mean Harry's and Lord Voldemort's as Harry and Verity's.
But the more he thought about it, the more he liked it. Yes, he decided. That was balanced. That was right. Verity would subdue Lord Voldemort physically and magically, while Harry would match him intellectually, with cunning and determination.
A mental battle was, after all, the only kind of battle worth winning. Convince an adversary your paths align, and you find a new companion on the road to come.
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Author's Note: Muahahahah! I've been looking forward to this update all year. Parts of this scene have been written months ago, but I had to wait for the right time to post. I've been keeping so many secrets for so long, it feels great to finally let you all in on a scant few of them. Don't worry, there are going to be way more drastic changes to original canon to come. This is the least of it. Thank you so much for reading!
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[Additional Note] In celebration of the new month, you'll probably notice I've made a few changes to the formatting! I replaced the BORING straight line dividers with a custom divider of my own with the initials of my story in it! And I added a disclaimer to the beginning! because most people do that and I suddenly realized how much I've been missing out on making up fun disclaimers!
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