Disclaimer: Everything you recognise is mine. Everything you do not recognise is mine
A/N: Thanks to Mattie and Sarah!
Chapter 8: The Truth
"Everything, sir?"
"Everything about your parents, Harry," Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eye. Harry was positively bewildered, but, before long, he remembered something; something that he and Dumbledore had talked about in his first year.
" Voldemort said that he only killed my mother because she tried to stop him from killing me. But why would he want to kill me in the first place?"
"Alas, the first thing you ask me, I cannot tell you. Not today. Not now. You will know one day. Put it out of your mind for now, Harry. When you are older...I know you hate to hear this...when you are ready, you will know."
Realisation set in, and Dumbledore beamed at him.
Harry gripped the arms of his chair, waiting.
"You must have always wondered why Voldemort would want to kill your parents," Dumbledore began, "and you are here today so that you might learn that and other things.
"The Fidelius Charm, as Professor Flitwick may have told you, is an extremely complex spell which hides a secret inside the soul of a single individual, only to be released if the Secret Keeper chooses for it to be. Your parent's house, for certain reasons that are to be explained, was guarded with this charm so that no one could see them there. They lived in the small village of Godric's Hollow, a place where we all thought, in vain, that they would be safe. Your father, as you may have wondered, was an Auror, Harry. It wasn't a well paying profession, but the fortune given to him by his father helped him very much," Dumbledore paused. This was a lot of information for one sitting, and it took Harry a moment to take it all in.
"Is that why I have money in my vault, Professor?" he asked.
"Yes, Harry. Your parents made sure to put some Galleons aside for you."
"But-"
"You're still wondering why they were killed, aren't you?" Harry nodded.
"You, Harry, are the last remaining heir to Godric Gryffindor. I know it may be hard," Dumbledore said, noticing Harry's puzzled expression, "but you must believe me."
Harry stared at the portrait of a sleeping Dippet, trying to believe what he was being told. He couldn't be! He, Harry Potter, the boy who thought he was a nobody for ten years, heir to Gryffindor? It didn't fit! Or did it?
"When I said only a true Gryffindor could have pulled the sword out of the hat, I meant it." Harry's face lighted with recognition, and Dumbledore nodded. "They were also powerful, and Voldemort was frightened that they might bring him to his downfall. He even tried, a select few times, to persuade them over to the Dark Side. Though all of these things added to Voldemort's hunger to kill your father, being Gryffindor's heir was his main reason for the murder. He killed you simply because the Gryffindor bloodline would then be thwarted, and there would be no remaining descendants. He killed your entire family on you father's side for that reason. Voldemort wasn't planning on killing your mother because she was not in the Gryffindor bloodline, but she got in the way, so he changed his plans and killed her as well.
"After your parents were killed, Hagrid brought you to the Dursleys, where we left you on their doorstep with a note. The note told your relatives everything: what happened to your parents, your title, who Voldemort was, and information about his downfall. Everything was written in that letter. To this day, I do not know why I thought they would read it."
"They probably didn't, Professor," Harry informed him. "They don't want anything to do with magic...I don't exactly know why..."
"I do," Dumbledore said loudly. Harry listened intently. "I always thought Petunia Evans would be a witch with extraordinary strengths. Your mother was, of course, one of the best witches in her year, and we thought Petunia would be the same. We sent a letter to the Evan's home in Kent , but Miss Evans ignored it. Oh, what a revelation the following week became! A hundred owls all leaving the Owlery at once was quite a sight to see. She continued dismiss the letters, taking our kind as freaks, no doubt. She ignored her signs of early magical ability, leaving Lily to inform me later that Petunia had once levitated a teapot, only to claim that the window needed to be closed." Dumbledore shook his head. "I suppose there are some Muggles who just don't like anything different or suspicious. Your aunt later married someone just as close minded, and we were forced to leave you with them."
Suddenly, Harry got an idea. "Professor, the summer before fourth year, when I had the dream, I could've sworn Voldemort was near me..." Dumbledore shook his head.
"No, Harry, Voldemort doesn't know where to find you," he said. "The same charm that was on your parent's home is on yours. You have a Secret Keeper. Mrs. Figg is not just your neighbor, Harry."
Finally, after all these years, Harry had closure. He understood the smell of cats in her home when he was forced to stay there. He understood why the tent at the World Cup smelt like cabbages. It was a wonderful feeling, to finally know all the things the Dursleys never told, the things they forbade him to ask about.
"That is all, Harry. You may go," Dumbledore concluded.
"Thank you, Professor," Harry said. He could've sworn there was a buzzing coming from the door as he stepped onto the moving stairs.
A/N: Thanks to Mattie and Sarah!
Chapter 8: The Truth
"Everything, sir?"
"Everything about your parents, Harry," Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eye. Harry was positively bewildered, but, before long, he remembered something; something that he and Dumbledore had talked about in his first year.
" Voldemort said that he only killed my mother because she tried to stop him from killing me. But why would he want to kill me in the first place?"
"Alas, the first thing you ask me, I cannot tell you. Not today. Not now. You will know one day. Put it out of your mind for now, Harry. When you are older...I know you hate to hear this...when you are ready, you will know."
Realisation set in, and Dumbledore beamed at him.
Harry gripped the arms of his chair, waiting.
"You must have always wondered why Voldemort would want to kill your parents," Dumbledore began, "and you are here today so that you might learn that and other things.
"The Fidelius Charm, as Professor Flitwick may have told you, is an extremely complex spell which hides a secret inside the soul of a single individual, only to be released if the Secret Keeper chooses for it to be. Your parent's house, for certain reasons that are to be explained, was guarded with this charm so that no one could see them there. They lived in the small village of Godric's Hollow, a place where we all thought, in vain, that they would be safe. Your father, as you may have wondered, was an Auror, Harry. It wasn't a well paying profession, but the fortune given to him by his father helped him very much," Dumbledore paused. This was a lot of information for one sitting, and it took Harry a moment to take it all in.
"Is that why I have money in my vault, Professor?" he asked.
"Yes, Harry. Your parents made sure to put some Galleons aside for you."
"But-"
"You're still wondering why they were killed, aren't you?" Harry nodded.
"You, Harry, are the last remaining heir to Godric Gryffindor. I know it may be hard," Dumbledore said, noticing Harry's puzzled expression, "but you must believe me."
Harry stared at the portrait of a sleeping Dippet, trying to believe what he was being told. He couldn't be! He, Harry Potter, the boy who thought he was a nobody for ten years, heir to Gryffindor? It didn't fit! Or did it?
"When I said only a true Gryffindor could have pulled the sword out of the hat, I meant it." Harry's face lighted with recognition, and Dumbledore nodded. "They were also powerful, and Voldemort was frightened that they might bring him to his downfall. He even tried, a select few times, to persuade them over to the Dark Side. Though all of these things added to Voldemort's hunger to kill your father, being Gryffindor's heir was his main reason for the murder. He killed you simply because the Gryffindor bloodline would then be thwarted, and there would be no remaining descendants. He killed your entire family on you father's side for that reason. Voldemort wasn't planning on killing your mother because she was not in the Gryffindor bloodline, but she got in the way, so he changed his plans and killed her as well.
"After your parents were killed, Hagrid brought you to the Dursleys, where we left you on their doorstep with a note. The note told your relatives everything: what happened to your parents, your title, who Voldemort was, and information about his downfall. Everything was written in that letter. To this day, I do not know why I thought they would read it."
"They probably didn't, Professor," Harry informed him. "They don't want anything to do with magic...I don't exactly know why..."
"I do," Dumbledore said loudly. Harry listened intently. "I always thought Petunia Evans would be a witch with extraordinary strengths. Your mother was, of course, one of the best witches in her year, and we thought Petunia would be the same. We sent a letter to the Evan's home in Kent , but Miss Evans ignored it. Oh, what a revelation the following week became! A hundred owls all leaving the Owlery at once was quite a sight to see. She continued dismiss the letters, taking our kind as freaks, no doubt. She ignored her signs of early magical ability, leaving Lily to inform me later that Petunia had once levitated a teapot, only to claim that the window needed to be closed." Dumbledore shook his head. "I suppose there are some Muggles who just don't like anything different or suspicious. Your aunt later married someone just as close minded, and we were forced to leave you with them."
Suddenly, Harry got an idea. "Professor, the summer before fourth year, when I had the dream, I could've sworn Voldemort was near me..." Dumbledore shook his head.
"No, Harry, Voldemort doesn't know where to find you," he said. "The same charm that was on your parent's home is on yours. You have a Secret Keeper. Mrs. Figg is not just your neighbor, Harry."
Finally, after all these years, Harry had closure. He understood the smell of cats in her home when he was forced to stay there. He understood why the tent at the World Cup smelt like cabbages. It was a wonderful feeling, to finally know all the things the Dursleys never told, the things they forbade him to ask about.
"That is all, Harry. You may go," Dumbledore concluded.
"Thank you, Professor," Harry said. He could've sworn there was a buzzing coming from the door as he stepped onto the moving stairs.