Chapter 16: Long Forgotten Truths

Harry found that he didn't think of himself as distinctly brave after the event had finished. The whole battle was rather melodramatic for him. No one else managed to make it to the hospital wing and he spent the time talking to patients, trying to calm them down and assuring them that everything would be fine.

When a man did come in range of them, Hannah shot ropes and bound him tightly. When Harry saw who it was, he quickly undid them.

"Professor Dumbledore!" Harry said quickly. "How is everything going? What happened?"

The man holding Dumbledore's spirit held up a hand to still Harry's questions. "He is gone. Tom fled from this place when he learned what you had done to protect it."

"Figures," Harry said bitterly. He tried hard and failed to keep the disappointment out of his voice. He had rather been hoping that, though it seemed hardly possible, Dumbledore had managed to defeat Voldemort.

Dumbledore nodded. "There was nothing I could do, Harry. Channeling too much magic through such an inexperienced body might have killed him. We had our hands full keeping the Death Eaters back. And apparently you have too." He spotted Lucius Malfoy's bound form

"A combined effort, really," Harry said dully. "I didn't have enough energy to do it myself. Hannah here tied him up. All it was was a stunner."

Hannah looked at her feet when Harry mentioned her, clearly remembering that she had tied Dumbledore up as well.

"She could perform it without teaching?" Dumbledore asked, looking at the girl with interested expression on his face.

"I taught it to her back there," Harry said. "Got into a jam with the reincarnated Belatrix Lestrange."

Dumbledore nodded, unsurprised. "It fits that those should be the two that sought you out. Did they say anything?"

Harry frowned. "Just a bunch of crap about how wonderful it would be to kill me."

Dumbledore nodded, his expression not changing.

"Why?" Harry asked, suddenly suspicious.

"I was simply wondering," Dumbledore said vaguely.

"I'm not a child anymore," Harry said harshly, though quieter than before. "And yet you still see it fit to tell me only what you think I should know."

Dumbledore sighed. "Now is not the time, Harry. Most of the other Headmasters and Headmistresses have already returned to their frames. There were no casualties, though several injuries."

"It's never the time is it?" Harry asked, no longer troubling to keep his voice down. "It wasn't the time until it was after the time to tell me about the prophecy, was it? And Sirius died because you withheld information! Who's going to have to die this time? Is it really so important that you would risk that?"

"It is irrelevant," Dumbledore said, fixing him with an icy stare. "It will have no effect, one way or the other, on the final battle."

"I don't care!" Harry said harshly. "And you don't know that. What if Voldemort knows and I don't and he springs it on me half way and it's so shocking that I hesitate and he blasts me into a hundred pieces?"

"I can see that this is going nowhere," Dumbledore said, his voice not harsh but Harry could feel the annoyance about him. "It is time for me to go."

"No!" Harry yelled. The next second the man blinked bewildered around at the people in front of him.

"Where-" He began.

Harry turned angrily on his heel and marched off in the other direction.

* * *

"Dumbledore!" Harry shouted. He pushed open the heavy oak doors without a thought and stood, feet spread apart in a defensive stance before the wall of portraits.

"He's not here," said another wizard vaguely. "He said he was going to over see the people at the hospital wing."

Harry swore loudly and the portraits looked at him in alarm. "Probably passed him on the way here," he muttered. He turned to go but stopped suddenly, something coming to him. "Wait a minute," Harry said slowly, looking at the other portraits in a new light.

"What?" asked a witch.

Harry tried to make his voice sound casual. "Who exactly was it that made Dumbledore's portrait?"

"We really shouldn't be the ones to tell you," said a wizard uncomfortably. "Not if Dumbledore so clearly decided to withhold information."

"Look," Harry said, his temper rising yet again. "I don't care if Dumbledore doesn't want me to know. He obviously still sees me as 16. Otherwise he wouldn't have led me here to where you are, and where it only took me a minute to remember that you know as well."

"Dumbledore works in strange ways," said a witch vaguely.

"This is ridiculous," said a voice suddenly that Harry knew quite well. He looked to the speaker and Phineas Nigellus looked right back.

"What's ridiculous?" Harry asked.

"The whole thing!" Phineas said. "What's the point in not telling him? It's not going to affect things one way or the other and if by some freak chance it does, it will be in our favor because Voldemort's Death Eaters won't have information that was withheld here!"

"Don't tell him!" squealed a witch.

"You, Harry Potter, made that portrait of Dumbledore's," Phineas said. A few of the portraits yelled angrily at him but Phineas did not stop. "You made that portrait and hung it on the wall. You disappeared without going out the door and setting a new password. It was you. Are you happy now? Is that what you wanted to hear?"

Harry looked at Phineas in disbelief. "I'm not an idiot, you know. I remember everything about my past. I never made that portrait. I would have remembered. And you can't Disapparate on the grounds!" Harry added as an afterthought.

"Of course you wouldn't have the memory, would you?" Phineas said dismissively. "And you didn't Disapparate; you broke down then rearranged your chemical structure. It's a completely different thing."

"I don't know how to do that," Harry said. Phineas's story was becoming more preposterous with every word.

"That's because the Harry Potter that made the portrait," Phineas said slyly, clearly loving Harry's confusion. "Is a different Harry Potter than the person standing before us."

"Speak plainly!" Harry hissed. "Stop talking in riddles!"

"That's enough, Phineas!" snapped a wizard. "You've told him enough to get him thoroughly confused without adding to the problem!"

"He's going to have to know all of it if he's to know any," argued a witch. "You know what it's like to be left in the dark! He's done enough to prove that he's ready to know! He deserves to know!"

"And how does he deserve that?" retorted the wizard. "It doesn't make any difference!"

"Just tell me!" Harry practically yelled.

The portraits had quieted again. Everyone was looking at Phineas. Phineas sighed. "Apparently I'm stuck with story telling hour. Alright then. Let me tell you a story. There once was a boy who was prophesized to be the match of the most evil dark wizard in all of time. He defeated this Dark Lord when he was but a year old, loosing his parents and being forced to live with his horrible Aunt and Uncle."

Harry tapped his foot impatiently. He knew this.

"He went to school for years, having an adventure at the end of every year until the fourth year, the Dark Lord that he had defeated so long ago rose again. In his sixth year, however, the Dark Lord really made a mark on the young boy's life. He killed the families of his two best friends-"

"That's not true!" Harry protested. "He only killed Hermione's parents!"

"Are you going to listen to my tale or not?" Phineas said, irritated at being interrupted.

"You're making things up," Harry said, annoyed as well. "That never happened!"

"Hush," whispered a witch. "Let him tell the story."

Harry looked at her in disbelief but dutifully closed his mouth to finish listening to the story.

Phineas continued, making a distinct show to prove that Harry's interruption had cost him precious time. "Anyway, the boy not only lost his friends' families, but throughout the year, he lost more-the headmaster, Remus Lupin, and even..." Phineas paused for effect. "Wound up killing his friend with his own wand in the battle against Voldemort."

"What?" Harry burst out. "Are you talking about Hermione? That never happened! Lupin is-was-still alive as well! And Sirius came back in the end!"

"Does it really take you that long," Phineas said quietly. "To think that perhaps it isn't you I'm talking about?"

"What do you mean?"

"Listen."

Again Harry closed his mouth, curiosity getting the better of him.

"When the final battle was over, the boy's only friends that were left alive in the world were Ronald Weasley and his younger sister. Even those two he shunned, thinking that every time they looked at him they blamed him, and every time he saw them he remembered those he couldn't save. He lost himself in his studies, learning more and more until he was practically a conduit for magic. He seemed to exist only so that he could destroy the remaining Death Eaters."

Phineas paused for breath before continuing on.

"Then one day he fought Death Eaters and was accidentally pushed through a portal. And where did that portal lead?"

"Here!" squeaked a witch. Phineas cast her an annoyed glance and she shushed instantly, wanting more of the story.

"He appeared in his past. When he saw where he was, he concentrated on trying to get back. He knew that if he tried to help mend the past, that his younger self would not know the pain that he felt was needed to defeat the Dark Lord forever. But his appearance did not go unnoticed. There were two that sensed his coming."

"Dumbledore and Voldemort," Harry guessed, still not sure he believed him.

"Exactly," Phineas said. "And though this visitor from the future tried hard to stay out of the way, to stay invisible, he could not and he was sought after constantly by the Dark Lord and occasionally by Dumbledore himself when the younger Potter boy fell during an attack on the castle to a curse that he did not know how to heal..."

~ Harry's mouth suddenly dropped. "Wait a minute," he said. "My broken leg healed on its own, Malfoy's acting more like Wormtail, and for some reason, I have this memory of being knocked out in Professor Lupin's classroom before this all started. That's to say nothing about this weird voice in my head that seems to know more about this than I do..."~

"He told me," Harry muttered. "He was the one who told me that it was a dream..."

"I don't know the details," Phineas said dismissively.

"I remember," Harry said slowly.

"It was this Harry that made Dumbledore's portrait when you were still unconscious in the hospital wing. He disappeared and did not unlock the door. Does that answer your question? Are you able to continue with your life now that you know? Because there are more lives that your own hanging in the balance and I for one am not looking forward to being a portrait on a wall that the kids point at because the headmaster got so annoyed with me and my insistence on learning more magic in school that he put me out in the hallway."

Harry wasn't sure what to do now that he knew. His voice cracked a little as he spoke next "And what happened to him when he went back?"

"No idea," Phineas said, shrugging. "Probably made friends with his old pals again for all I know and care."

"That's horrible!" exclaimed a witch. "Look what he'd been through and with no one to help him! I'm surprised he got on as well as he did!"

"If we had been really lucky," Phineas muttered. "We would have gotten that Harry instead of this one."

Harry frowned. "I thought I was pretty good."

"You're nothing," Phineas said firmly. "Compared to the sheer power of your future counterpart."

Harry sat down wearily in his chair, seemingly to have just remembered that he was still tired. Perhaps it would have been better if he had never known...

* * *

Harry dimly heard the door open. It took a moment for his mind to register that the person entering wanted to talk to him. Actually, Grander was talking to him; it just took Harry a moment longer than usual to get the words from his ears to his brain.

"Are you okay?" Grander asked.

Harry blinked his eyes quickly and pulled himself back fully into the present. "Fine." he said shortly.

"Are you sure?" Grander asked, concern in his voice. "You don't look fine."

"I'm fine," Harry snapped. "What did you come here to tell me?"

Grander was taken aback. "Well, nothing really. I just came to make sure you were okay. The professor that Dumbledore inhabited said that you left in something of a huff when it was all over."

Harry nodded mutely. He wasn't really in the mood to go over everything again. "It's nothing. What's happening downstairs?"

Grander shrugged. "Apparently those portraits were as powerful as you said they were. They didn't kill a single person, but there are about 20 unconscious. The rest left."

Harry was slowly bringing his mind back to the present. "There's a spy, Grander. A spy at Hogwarts."

"Why do you say that?"

"How else would Voldemort know that this of all days would be the day I was most vulnerable?"

"Lucky guess?" Grander suggested. "It's not like you told anyone you were leaving. How could they have known?"

"You figured it out," Harry pointed out.

Grander shrugged. "I'm a little better informed than a lot of people. Besides," he shifted uncomfortably. "One of the portraits tipped me off."

Harry's mouth opened slightly. "The portraits..."

"You don't think," Grander asked incredulously. "But they're bound to serve the Headmaster of the school! They can't go against your wishes!"

"I'm not headmaster," Harry said, shaking his head. "They did what I asked because they wanted to. They had no reason to serve me." He couldn't believe it, but it made complete sense.

"We're not sure about this," Grander insisted. "It might have been someone in the castle. Voldemort may have promised not to hurt their families if they went along with his and they believed him and gave him information they got out of the portraits."

Harry shook his head. "The portraits have been sealed in the Headmaster's office and you and I are the only ones who knew the password. They would have only had time to tell Voldemort tonight and the force was well organized meaning Voldemort had more than a matter of hours to prepare."

Grander ran his fingers through his hair, a habit he seemed to have picked up from Harry. "I don't understand? Who would do this? Who could do this? You just said the portraits couldn't leave the tower!"

"They...sort of can," Harry amended. "If they have another portrait of themselves somewhere. They can travel back and forth between frames."

"Then it could have been anyone!" Grander maintained firmly. "Any person might have another picture."

"I doubt it," Harry said. "After all, the portraits are centuries old. There aren't a lot of people who know that the portraits could leave frames. You didn't even know and you're the History professor! It's my theory that only someone from the past would know and the only people from the past, other than myself, are Voldemort's supporters."

Grander frowned. "That Phineas Nigellus guy has always had a suspicious look about him."

Harry smiled a little. "He's not very nice, but, as my godfather used to tell me, 'the world isn't divided into good people and Death Eaters'. I think Phineas is loyal. He may be rude, but he's-"

"Slytherin," Grander cut in. "There isn't a lot of house rivalry nowadays, but Slytherins are still thought to be the rigid self survivors. They're cunning. They looked out for themselves first, most of the time."

Harry frowned thoughtfully. "I suppose that's true, but if you're going to put down each houses faults, then you might accuse any of the houses. Hufflepuffs aren't that brave and might be more easily threatened. Ravenclaws seek knowledge and the fastest way to learn forgotten knowledge is to, unfortunately, to join with Voldemort. They have more teachers. Gryffindor...well...Gryffindors..."

"Charge head long into things without seeing where they're going," Grander supplied with a grin. "Easy to get capture and placed under a spell if you don't know what you're up against."

Harry nodded. "So basically-"

"What about Potters?" Grander asked.

"What?"

Grander grinned. "You have a house too, you know. What about the Potters?"

"I-I don't know anything about the Potters," Harry admitted. "What are they picked for?"

"Quid skill."

"What?"

"That's an ongoing joke," Grander said with a sheepish grin. "The Potters' always have a good Quid team. They say that they must be chosen by that alone. No, the Potters are chosen for their determination. They'll do anything achieve their goals." He sighed. "And they always do it the hard way, just to prove they can."

"Sounds rather like Slytherin," Harry said dryly.

"By no means!" Grander explained. "The Slytherins are... well, to be bluntly honest, a little self centered. Do not confuse determination with ambition. The Potters are a little less...what's the word?...driven. Yet when they set their mind to something, they get it done in the end, or so they say."

"Then the Potter houses' strength is also their weakness," Harry said thoughtfully. "Determination is good, but if there's no purpose behind it, it can lead anywhere."

Grander nodded.

"So, basically we're back to step one," Harry said.

"Step two, actually," Grander grinned when Harry sent him a questioning look. "Step one is, 'A spy'. Step two is, 'The spy's a portrait'."

"Step two then," Harry said. "That doesn't change our position."

"So we have to bag the spy," Grander said. "Oh, also, the Minister found out about the attack. He wasn't happy that the Ministry members were left out."

"Were they?" Harry asked blankly.

"They've been staying in the common rooms and the portraits locked them in," Grander explained.

"What does he expect us to do?" Harry asked, his temper heating up. "Let them get themselves killed?"

Grander shrugged. "I don't know. But you've got another lesson coming up for the teachers and Ministry members and I've been practicing. I never knew that magic could be so much fun! I mean, there's always the chance you won't do it right, but I've only blasted a hole in the door once."

"You said, 'Alohmara' instead of 'Alohomora'," Harry said vaguely. "Completely different spell."

"How do you know?"

"Because that spell will knock a hole in the door," Harry said. "I suppose it's not going to be a lot of help to tell you that I could perform the spell in my first year."

Grander shrugged. "Different times."

"Okay," Harry said, standing up. "Let's go see what the Minister has to say about the world."

"I'm not sure if he's here or not," Grander said. "I just heard that he's not very happy."