Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling. The members of the Secret Sealing Club are the creations of ZUN.

Chapter 20 – The Earth Spirits' Homecoming

Compared to the incident with the Ravenclaws, literally nobody except those directly involved knew about the duel in the Room of Requirement.

At least, that was what Harry thought, since he was quite certain that nobody would blab. However, in the excitement of the night, he seemed to have forgotten one tiny detail–

"Su. Sue. Terry. What are you doing–"

"Wasn't my idea!" Terry threw up his hands. "I wanted to wait till evening, but nooo, Su here shot me with an Acculeus at six a.m. to drag me down here, in the cold winter morning– "

"You've got some nerve, Harry, calling for help like that and then not explaining anything afterwards," Susan cut across Terry. "And you, Neville, didn't even tell us that everything was fine afterwards. If Luna hadn't come back, we would have stormed the room. Well, I would have stormed the room. Ernie was in favour of going to bed and seeing what would happen in the morning."

Snow had begun falling a few weeks back. While their usual path around the lake had been miraculously clear, probably due to some hidden Charm or other, the small clearing under the tree that Harry and Neville usually rested afterwards had been buried under a solid six inches, which Harry had painstakingly cleared away.

"I would have told you all tonight." Harry said placatingly. "But there's not much we can say anyway, since we're under oath."

"That bad, huh?" Terry was casting Warming Charms, having underestimated the extent of the cold.

"Yes." Harry was patient. "It's…" He tried to summarise the events of the night, along with the several revelations that he was doing his best to not think about. "It's complicated."

The conversation ground to a halt. Neville, in an attempt to escape scrutiny, had dropped to the ground, and was now doing one-handed push ups.

"I'll think of a better debrief for all of you later. What did Luna say when she went back?" Harry turned to look at the two Ravenclaws.

"Less mystic than usual." Terry snorted. "Said something like 'he's not dead' then shot up to bed immediately. That's when I sent the all-clear."

All clear. No worries. That was the literal inscription on the coin when Harry had checked it the next morning.

"But she seemed quite frustrated–well, more frustrated than her usual self," Terry continued. "Did you do anything?"

"I don't think even Harry knows that." Su interjected, a wry look on her face. "But Neville's hand–"

"It's all good." The boy said cheerfully. He was now on his elbows doing a plank. "Wand blew up in the duel, so now Gran'll get one that actually fits me."

"So there was a duel." Susan narrowed her eyes. "There better be a good explanation for all of this later."

"We're oathbound…to not reveal who it was." Harry had assumed the same position as Neville, albeit with more difficulty.

I wonder where he gets his strength? Well, it probably has to do with not magically exerting oneself every night.Harry wondered, then sarcastically rebuked himself.

"Fair, fair." Terry said again. Casting another Warming Charm, he breathed into his hands, trying to get some warmth. "You both do this every morning? Are you mental?"

"Except…on Sundays." Harry nodded.

"Maybe I should join you both." Su mused to herself. "Might be fun to exercise with others for a change." She whirled to face Terry, who had opened his mouth to speak. "And maybe you should join them."

"When hell freezes over, maybe." Terry nodded. "Come on, let's get back to the castle. It's bloody cold out here."

"Weak." Su snorted.

"Weak." Susan concurred.

"Weak." Neville added, poise unbroken from his planking position.

"Weak." Harry's muffled voice joined in the fun, face flat on the ground.

"Oh, bugger off."

~~[q]~~

The rest of the day passed by uneventfully. Fortunately for Neville, the note from Madam Pomfrey excused him from any wand-waving activities. However, for classes that did not require such–

"Longbottom!" Snape barked. "Injured your hand, did you? I sure hope you don't expect additional help because of your own ineptitude."

"No, professor." Neville quietly said, not looking Snape in the eye. The warning from Harry was still remembered.

Harry, who recalled how Snape had treated Malfoy after the Buckbeak incident, rolled his eyes. "You sure you don't need help?"

"Positive." Neville said. He wiggled the fingers on his bandaged hand. "Just need to take things nice and slow."

Harry nodded. There was no need to comment on how much Snape seemed like an afterthought these days–just another petty, bitter man compared to the terror that Voldemort carried.

But he knows something. Harry thought. It was right at the edge of his awareness, where a part of his perfect image had faded away. He's more important than he seems.

Then night came, and Harry found himself once again treading the familiar path to the Divination office. This time, as he raised his hand to knock, the door opened, revealing the friendly face of Professor Merry.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" The aroma of tea wafted through the room, the scent like a warm blanket.

"It has." Harry said neutrally. He looked around the office, which was still cluttered in a way that suggested the room had much use. The whiteboard still held unfamiliar runic script which notated equally unfamiliar diagrams.

"But I suppose I owe you an apology of sorts." Merry pulled up a chair, sat right across Harry without a table in the way. "I should have realized your point of view, how it would have looked like to you if I suddenly ceased all communication."

"Luna said it was because of a health problem." Now that Harry was actually receiving an apology, his earlier anger at Merry suddenly seemed childish, and embarrassing, and overblown, and he shrank down in his seat.

"In a manner of speaking, it was. Overwork," she said simply. "To be fair to the other students, I cannot personally tutor you in Occlumency any longer."

Harry had been expecting it, but it was still a blow. "I understand."

"But I will still be here if you ever need a talk," Merry said. "However, let us move on. The object you brought last night–"

"It's Ravenclaw's Diadem." Harry blurted. "Wearing it brings knowledge or something." A little tidbit that he had picked up from many idle chats with Luna.

"Not exactly. It brings, as Professor Flitwick told Renko, wisdom and insight."

"You opened the box?"

"Only after taking many precautions." Merry gestured to a corner of the room, where the box now lay within a chalk circle, neatly divided into eight sections like how one would slice a pie. More runic script, along with triplets of broken and unbroken lines, were written on its exterior. "It doesn't appear to have any effects unless you put it on, which we didn't do. After all," her gaze returned to Harry, "it contains a piece of Voldemort's soul."

"Horcrux." Harry said. Speaking the word itself made the air more oppressive. "Voldemort made six." He extracted his notebook, and showed it to Merry: the Horcruxes and their locations.

Merry's eyes scrolled up and down the page. "You would do well to give this to Professor Dumbledore."

Dumbledore. The resentment tasted bitter on his tongue, and Harry said nothing, and Merry said nothing about him saying nothing. What was there to speak of? The elderly Headmaster was the obvious person who could most effectively utilize such information.

"I do not know whether it is fortune or not that you have experienced these…revelations…right before I could muster my courage to speak with you again, Mr Potter." Merry continued.

'Muster my courage?' What's going on?

"But reality is as it is, right now. Before my bout of ill health, Dumbledore requested a meeting with me, because he had a few concerns with my teaching. One of those concerns was my teaching of Occlumency to you."

How did he know? thought Harry. I haven't mentioned Occlumency to anyone, and if I had, I never said that Merry was teaching me.

"I must ask that you contain your anger at my next words, Harry." Merry spoke. At Harry's nod, she resumed. "He discovered it because Professor Snape has been making regular intrusions in your mind." She nodded approvingly at Harry, who did not explode. "Good work, Mr Potter."

Snape…and I blocked his attempt, didn't I?

"It may also be pertinent to mention that you are now at a level where you would at least detect any attempts by the Potions Professor to access your thoughts. I suspect that Dumbledore might have told him to stop after I revealed my knowledge of this particular practice."

"That's…that's good, isn't it?" Harry spoke hopefully, but there was a feeling of foreboding.

"Yes. But that was not what I wanted to tell you today. I have two pieces of bad news. Or rather, one piece of bad news, and one piece of worse news."

"The worse news first." Harry had never shied away from suffering, and he wasn't going to do so now.

"Very well. I admire your courage. Ready?" Merry inhaled, steadying herself. "To tell you this may be to further risk your life, especially with regards to Voldemort, but here it is: a piece of Voldemort's soul is in your own."

Harry did not shout, or scream, or run away shouting and screaming. He simply remained where he sat, a cold chill running up his back.

He remembered sitting in Dumbledore's office, one dark night after he killed a Basilisk with a sword and a phoenix. The conversation came back to him:

"He transferred some of his own powers to you the night he gave you that scar."

"Voldemort put a bit of himself in me?"

"Yes, it certainly seems so."

And now that he knew what a Horcrux was…

Harry leaned back in his chair, and closed his eyes, decorum be dammed. "So, there's no choice but for me to die?" He felt a lot more calm than he had any right to be, but then again, he supposed that a part of him had knew from the start.

"The other piece of bad news, Harry, is that you're the subject of a prophecy. You're destined to fight Voldemort." Merry made the decision to metaphorically kick Harry while he was down, to save him from getting up and then falling again.

"I knew there was a reason for him to come after my ass." Harry said. His head was still tilted backwards, resting on top of the chair's backrest, and his closed eyes were pointed to the ceiling. "When I get hold of the old man, he and I are going to have some words. Damn goat must have known all along."

"Show a little respect to your Headmaster, Harry." Merry chided. "To be fair to him, he must have not known how to break it to an eleven-year-old child. I'm sure he'll tell you sooner or later, but on matters that transcend education, I saw no need to adhere to his judgement."

"And this year I'm fifteen, and every single year at this godforsaken school, I've had to escape death at least once." Harry spoke wearily.

And Sirius and the rest of the Order didn't respect me enough to tell me anything, either. Not even about the stupid weapon in the Department of Myst–oh, for Merlin's sake.

"Harry? Harry?"

"Yes, Merr–I mean, Professor." Harry's head sprung forward and returned to a normal position. "I'm all right. To be honest, I think some part of me knew all along, for me to have been pushing myself this hard. Anyway, prophecies don't always come true, right? That's what you said."

"I never said that." Merry shook her head. Is he being strong, or has the complete ramifications simply not sunk in yet? In any case, it might be better for him to dwell on this, than to actively think about his Horcrux, which might alert Voldemort to it. "I said that there was no way to prove that they do."

Harry was mildly indignant. "You heavily implied–"

"I said we don't know for certain. That there was no proof. And there never will be proof. But it doesn't matter to us, because if you believe the future is set in stone, you'll sink into despair and fail to grasp the power to change it, if only the smallest of chances existed." Merry's voice was firm.

"But it's not going to be this way for Voldemort." Harry said. "Since he believes that I will be the one. It'll be self-fulfilling."

The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…

"I see you've remembered my lesson on Oedipus," Merry said approvingly. "But think of it this way: you can still choose to not fight him. You could walk away from all this, seek refuge in Japan, maybe. I would not think any less of you, of a mere teenager."

"Fuck no." Harry spoke with unexpected vehemence, even to himself. "He's made my life hell. He captured me, tortured me. He killed my parents." Harry's hands clenched into fists. "Like I would run away. But–"

"–it seems that you're just playing into the hands of fate?" Merry said, and Harry fell silent at the wry smile on his teacher's face. "A contradiction, isn't it? Go with the flow, and you subject yourself to destiny. Actively defy it, and you end up with the same result."

Harry mulled over it. "I don't like this," he eventually said. It seemed, to him, like an inescapable problem, an intractable paradox.

"Well…" Merry began. "I could go on for another hour, discuss the philosophy of this in greater detail. I could bring up fancy words such as eternal recurrence or amor fati, but...why would you let some random words dictate your life? Just carry on living it as you have always done."

She drained her cup and stood, walked over to the kettle for a refill. The sound of hot water being poured was oddly comforting.

"Did you know? About me?" The thought suddenly came to Harry, and he twisted in his seat. "Was that why Dumbledore–"

"Hired me? Harry, the world doesn't revolve around you." At least, not all the time, she thought darkly. "Well, I would prefer not to discuss the terms of my employment, so I'd appreciate it if you didn't pry."

Harry nodded, and the pair fell into an amiable silence, before Harry asked the next question.

"Why did you agree to teach me Occlumency in the first place?"

"Truthfully? I found you interesting. In fact, I find many students here interesting, brimming with potential, and I attempt to engage with a few of them. Some students find me interesting, and they seek me out, and it turns out they've been hiding pretty good ideas in their heads. It's been a good experience, teaching here."

"I've had enough of people finding me interesting, thanks." Harry snorted.

"Yes, well, in a sense I also see a bit of myself in you." Merry mused.

Before Harry could ask further, the adjoining door opened with a clack, and Renko walked out with a yawn. "Done yet?"

"Almost." Merry said. "Harry, about your notebook and your dream diary…"

"Take it." Harry held it out. "And give it to the Headmaster for me. If Dum–if I see Dumbledore again, I might start throwing curses."

"You'll have to meet him eventually." Merry said. Her hand was on the book, but she did not make to hold it. "Are you sure you trust me with this? I'm not from this country, after all. And I might lose it."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes, I'm sure." And it's not as if I don't have copies hidden elsewhere.

"Very well. Once again, I'm honoured by your trust. Perhaps a little more now, since you are Britain's chosen hero."

"Don't call me that." Harry said immediately.

"You're right." Merry agreed. "Well then, Har–Mr Potter. I will take good care of this, and ensure it gets into the appropriate hands." She angled the book. "Take care of yourself."

~~[q]~~

Afterwards:

"Losing control at your age, Neville? I thought you'd be better than that." Augusta Longbottom said sternly.

"Sorry, Gran." Neville hung his head, but inside, he was too happy to care. Twelve inches of cherry wood with a core of unicorn hair sat in his pocket.

Renko had been there, when they had gathered in Professor McGonagall's office to receive his grandmother via Floo. Several remarks in precise, mathematical tones had been delivered regarding Neville's compatibility with his old wand and the need for a new, and while his grandmother could see reason, it was clear that she was still unhappy.

Even more surprisingly, the Assistant Professor had asked to go along with them to "observe how things were done in Britain, for cultural exchange purposes, you see." Neville had cheerfully agreed before his grandmother could say otherwise, and his grandmother had pursed her lips in dissatisfaction (but did not refuse out of politeness).

Anything to keep her from lecturing me about how I'm not living up to her expectations.

And then his Lumos had blinded everyone in Ollivander's shop. He had decided to not try anything stronger before getting back to school.

"You need control," Renko had said. "You've probably gotten too used to forcing your magic through an incompatible wand. In fact, I think you would have gotten better luck trying to cast using a stick of celery."

Neville's eyes darted to his grandmother and back again. "It was my father's wand."

Renko raised a single eyebrow, as if to intimate the obvious.

And you aren't your father.

Thankfully, she decided not to press the point. "Cherry wood." she smiled. "If you were in Japan, it would be a sign of prestige."

"Prestige?"

"Or good luck. Everyone loves the sakura, after all." Renko waved a hand. "And twelve is a good number with much Arithmantical, Divinatory, Astronomical, and other what-have-you significance. Twelve animals in the zodiac, twelve constellations in astrology," she listed on her fingers. "the third superior highly composite number–"

At the boy's blank look, she sighed. "Never mind."

~~[q]~~

After-afterwards:

Life seemed to return to Albus Dumbledore's haggard face as he perused the book he was given.

"–and Mr Potter had been told of both the fact that he is subject to a prophecy, and that a fragment of Voldemort's soul lies within him." Merry finished speaking. "He remained relatively composed, though I did not pry further on whether that was a result of acceptance or complete denial."

"You do me a great service, Professor Hearn."

"Not you, Headmaster." Merry corrected instantly. "The students. Though in this case, one particular student, and perhaps goodness as a whole in general."

Dumbledore sighed and nodded. An abundance of empathy, Yukari Yakumo had said. A tendency to care too much for individuals that take her fancy. Though, Brian, both you and I were like this too, weren't we? Once upon a time. The old magician's tones, which lay on the border between scathing and wistful, seemed to echo in his ears.

"I will make use of this." He closed the book.

"One more thing." Merry brought out a small box, which was now stamped with the Hakurei's Evil-Sealing Circle that Harry had seen earlier. "Ravenclaw's Diadem. It has been retrieved by Messrs Potter and Longbottom, as well as Miss Lovegood and Miss Hestia Carrow."

"Carrow?" Dumbledore's eyes widened.

"Only Mr Potter knows of its existence as a holder of Voldemort's soul. The rest only know it as a cursed object."

Dumbledore exhaled. While not ideal, it would have to do. Though…he considered the names. Longbottom and Lovegood. Old families, both Pureblood, and the Lovegoods had never been a part of his Order…

"And lastly, I thought I should warn you that during my conversation with him, Mr Potter expressed the wish to curse you. Several times." Merry finished.

The aged headmaster seemed to sag in his seat. "I suppose I might deserve that," he said softly. "If he–"

"Save your apologies for him, Headmaster," Merry advised, but without vitriol. "Though I would advise you to at least let him enjoy his Christmas." She stood. "Are there any more matters we need to discuss?"

"None," said Dumbledore. "Though I should thank you, I think." His words were slow and measured. "For being a mentor to Harry."

A tendency to care too much. The words came back to him once more. But we have both learnt that the collective sometimes comes before the individual, right?

The Greater Good. Dumbledore had forced out the words in response. Dangerous words that could be used to justify the most atrocious of actions. That had been used to justify the most atrocious of actions, once upon a time. Oh, Gellert…

"You don't need to thank me for that," Merry said neutrally.

She left, leaving Dumbledore alone with his thoughts.

Slowly but surely, we move.

Christmas is next, and I've got a present for everyone.

Review please!