Chapter Four -- From the Divination Professor's Mouth

Ninety percent of the time things turn out worse
than you thought they would. The other ten
percent of the time, you had no right to expect 
that much.
 -- Augustine

"Yes," Trelawney confirmed, "I have heard of the tower. And I've heard of the prophecy that you've asked about, which confirms your rise to the position of a Dark Lord. I'm not surprised, really. My Inner Eye has always seen a bad end for you."

"And?" Harry asked, "Do you have anything you can tell me about this 'end'?"

"You'll know it when you see it," Trelawney snapped at him. "It should be enough to know that it will be bad, and it will be the end." Her voice trembled slightly as she said it.

"Ooh, that sounds spooky, Professor. Could you give me some more details, however?"

"Well, there was a prophecy that at some point, more than a thousand years after the founding of Hogwarts, a Dark Lord would arise. This Dark Lord would be subjected to the Orpheus curse, and would suffer from it, but would survive. He would become a member of the Ninth, whatever that is."

"The Ninth House of Durmstrang," Harry interjected, "That's why it was disbanded after the prophecy was given."

"I see," Trelawney said, "although of course, I could have seen that myself. The way of prophecies is that they are hard to defeat, and hard to work around. If you had died of the Orpheus curse, you simply would not have been the one in the prophecy. If someone sought to make you immune to it, you would find a new way to suffer. I presume that you found some way to become a member of this disbanded house?"

"Not by choice," Harry confirmed.

"Well, then, you've already fulfilled the larger elements. And, of course, you have cast all three of the Unforgivable Curses?"

Harry nodded, but said, defensively, "Not successfully, though. I've never killed anyone with the Killing Curse."

"That doesn't matter, Potter. It was successful in cursing Falco," she gestured at the immobile young boy, "even if he hasn't died from it yet. I don't think there are any other important parts of the prophecy before the choice."

"What choice?"

She snorted, "Personally, I think that the prophetess added it herself, to sooth the small minds of those who would read it. It doesn't make any sense. But the prophecy says that the 'Dark Lord to be' will be able to make one choice after the rest of the prophecy has been fulfilled, and if they choose wisely, they will be able to set aside their mantle, and avoid becoming the next Dark Lord. Sounds like rubbish to me -- as if they were some sort of groundhog, and just seeing their shadow would change the future. Complete nonsense."

"But... if it's not nonsense... what is the choice?"

"I don't know," Trelawney said impatiently. "I don't think anyone else does, either. All of the serious discussion has always revolved around the Ninth, and what that was, although apparently someone figured it out."

Harry nodded, "According to the secret version of the histories they kept at Durmstrang, the Headmasters there have always known. They chose to keep it quiet, though, in case anyone thought they could stop the prophecy by destroying Durmstrang."

Trelawney shook her head, her pointed nose in the air, "It wouldn't have worked, anyway. If it were a true prophecy, something else would have been the Ninth. It might have just been the ninth child, for example, although the seventh is usually the one that gets picked on in prophecies."

"Well, then," Harry said, "Is it necessarily me?"

"Probably," Trelawney hedged, "Usually, in this type of Prophecy, only one person meets all the requirements at a time. However, if you die without making the choice, it is possible that it will just pass to someone else, and that everyone will discover that he or she was the one that mattered all along."

"So I have to face this choice, whatever it is, and choose the right thing?"

"If the choice is really part of the prophecy, yes. However, since I don't believe that it is... I think it's too late. You're already him, the next Dark Lord. Now... don't kill me... please, I foresee that you'll meet a dire end if you do." Trelawney's voice was shaking. She sounded pitiful. Harry wanted to tell her that there was no reason to worry, but Falco's drawn face said otherwise.

"What about the Tower," he asked instead, "What's so special about the Tower? And why does Ginny know about it, when she doesn't know anything else?"

"I don't know," Trelawney admitted. "If the choice was real -- which it's NOT," she added quickly, "then it might be the place where you had to make the choice. The prophecy does mention it by name, after all."

"What about the Tower -- can it heal Ginny Weasley? Her mind is just about gone, thanks to the Dementors and the curse."

"Potter," a nasal voice came from the hallway, "I am surprised at you. I would think that you would at least have shut the door before undertaking an interrogation of a Hogwarts professor." With a smooth motion, Professor Snape stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him. "Then again, I would have thought that you would have had the presence of mind to interrogate someone who could have actually told you something."

Snape had his wand out, pointed at Harry, but before Harry could react, the Professor smoothly slid his wand into his pocket, and put his hands out before him. "Well, Potter, it's your move." Snape looked expectant. Harry wondered what, exactly, he was expecting, and what Harry should deliver.

"Professor Snape, thank you for your help. Could you let the Professor answer my questions? I need to know what I can do for Ginny."

Snape's response was to quickly touch his wand to Trelawney's forehead. "Stupefy! Obliviate!" She fell to the ground, with a blank look on her face. Harry thought it fit her fairly well, but he was still upset.

Snape looked at him, "I don't know if the Tower will help heal your friend. It uses Dark Magic, and when you try to use Dark Magic to heal, there is always a price. However, if you want to help Miss Weasley, you'll need more than the suppositions of a biased, washed-up fraud. You will also need more than the judgment of a biased, burned-out Potions Master. That is fortunate, as you have no time for them now." He pulled a rolled up parchment out of a pocket of his robes, and handed it to Harry.

Harry unrolled it, and was surprised to recognize the Marauder's Map. "Where did you get this?"

"The Headmaster entrusted it to me to complete a task. However, I believe that you need it more than I, at the moment."

Harry looked down at the map. He could see it swarming with names, mostly in the Great Hall. A few, though, were coming in his general direction. Some of the names he recognized -- Moody and Tonks, among them. The Aurors were coming for him.

"It is time for you to leave, Mister Potter. I will try to distract them, but if I cannot, you may wish to make for one of the secret passages. They are all open now."

Harry nodded, and shoved the map into his own pocket. "Thanks, Professor Snape. Why are you doing this?"

Snape's face twisted into an unnatural looking smile. "I've made a few poor choices of my own, Potter."

Harry turned to leave, but Snape called out, hesitantly. "One more thing, Potter."

He turned back. Snape pulled a small box out of his robes. "It's currently under a reducing charm. Wait until you leave to enlarge it."

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"My Pensieve," Snape responded. He wasn't meeting Harry's eyes, now. "There are some memories that I believe you should see in there."

"I think I've already seen enough," Harry snapped back.

Snape flinched. "Just take it," he said, "and be off." His voice sounded hoarse.

Harry took it, and left.

~.~.~

Snape closed the door to his office, grinning. This actually felt like him. Subterfuge, sneaking around, surprising people; these were all things he was good at, things that he enjoyed. He also realized that helping Harry out might actually make up for something he had done in the past, not just make a change for the future. While he respected Albus' belief that it was impossible for anyone to make up for all the wrongs in their life, he didn't think that he should avoid trying.

Turning from the door, the grin fell from his face. He wasn't alone. A dark figure stood in his room, wearing black robes, with a deep hood. "Professorin Snape," he said, in a deep, thickly accented voice, "I need your help on a matter of great importance."

Snape had his wand out before the figure had said his name, but the intruder seemed unperturbed. He decided to risk a question, "Could you tell me why I should consider helping you?"

"I think that you will find that it is in your own best interests," the intruder said, pulling back his hood.

Snape was shocked. "Viktor Krum? I had heard that you had been imprisoned."

Viktor smiled. "I am on what you might call a parole," he said.

"A parole," Snape replied, his voice even more nasal than before. "Does your government know about this arrangement?"

"No," Viktor answered, "and I do not care."

"I believe that they might feel differently," Snape said, still holding his wand straight at Krum.

Krum still didn't look like he cared, one way or another. "I am here to be talkink about Harry."

Snape snorted, "Why am I not surprised? Well, you can take yourself elsewhere. I will not aid in what you are planning."

"You do not know what I am planning," Viktor said, earnestly. "I have heard that you feel responsible for Harry. Is this not so? I have heard that you gave help to people who were seeking to help him, that it was you who helped his 'owl' to find its way to Durmstrang last year."

Snape looked at him in astonishment, "How do you know about that?"

"I have listened," Viktor said. After a moment, he confessed, sheepishly, "Although perhaps, not soon enough. I will admit that I was not a good friend to Harry last year. I must, to him, make this up."

Snape cocked his head, "The last I had heard, you didn't like Harry very much."

"That doesn't mean I want some brutish Auror to throw him in Azkaban," Viktor replied. "I could have said the same about you, however."

"I suppose I can see your point," Snape responded. "So, you are proposing that we can do something together, to help him?"

Viktor nodded. "First, however, I must find him. I believe that he is still under a spell. Girard, the man who has made life difficult for him recently, claimed that he had used magic to push Harry closer to his destiny."

"Are you suggesting that the choices that Harry has made in the last two years were not his own?"

"No," Viktor said. "But I do not know if the same will be said of the next choice that he makes. And that choice, it may pay for all."

A/N: In answer to some questions -- No, before anyone else even starts thinking about it, I will not simply change the timeline when this is all done or something like that. I may use Deus ex machina occasionally, but this is Harry Potter, not Star Trek -- no simple changing of the timelines allowed, without really heavy foreshadowing at the beginning of the story arc.

Lest anyone think that's a negative comment about those that do change timelines, it isn't. One of my favorite fics of all time is Barb's Harry Potter and the Time of Good Intentions, part of the Psychic Serpent Trilogy. She does it well, though, and sets it up as part of the story from the beginning, rather than grafting it on at the end -- which is what would happen if I just saved everyone in the last chapter.