Chapter Three
Disclaimer- See Chapter one.
Somewhere, deep within the depths of the Department of Mysteries, a room opened.
Harry saw the green light blast towards Fudge, and the next thing he knew, he was running, to stand right in front of the blast. At first, he felt nothing when the green light hit him right in the chest, but then, a sudden felling of agony, much worse than he had ever felt, almost like millions of knives were tearing through his body and mind, filled him.
Voldemort saw his killing curse fly towards the doomed minister, and stop mid- air. It shaped itself in a way that is seemed like there was a person standing there, before it faded.
"How...?" Voldemort was at a loss. Nothing could block an Unforgivable! He was searching the spot where his curse was stopped, trying to come up with an answer. Then, to his amazement, and everyone else who could see, a drop of blood fell to the ground. Then another. And another.
Harry felt a deep gash on his chest where he killing curse hit him, and it was bleeding freely. He saw with horror that the blood actually fell to the ground, for everyone to see. But... how can that happen? I'm not here! He thought desperately. But he thought no more, as the pain he felt before surged back through him, more powerful than before. He wished that the green light had just killed him. It was overwhelming him. He couldn't even scream his agony. Then, something in his mind snapped, and everything went dark.
The dark lord was furious.
"WORMTAIL! LUCIUS!" he screamed in fury "COME HERE, NOW!"
Wormtail scooted forward, terrified.
"Y-yes M-m-master?"
"This is all your fault! YOU did this, didn't you? Probably switched sides didn't you? I always thought I couldn't trust you. Well, now you will pay!" Voldemort pulled out his wand yet again. "And you, Lucius, did not that house- elf come to your place? Why did you not tell it then!"
Lucius Malfoy twitched, nervous. "I did, my lord-" Voldemort pointed his wand at both of them.
"Yourgonnakillme?" Wormtail whimpered.
"Ooooh, no! Of course not!" Voldemort smiled.
"Really?" asked Wormtail hopefully.
"Oh, what I'm gonna do is much worse!" The dark lord spat at his worthless follower. "I'll let these people, who think you are dead, deal with you. They will know what you have done. Won't be too happy, now will they? And you, Lucius, you they will find guilty of the crime you were first commited of."
Wormtail had a look of horror on his face.
"N-no! Master! P-please!"
"Hope you like Azkaban, Peter!" Voldemort grinned evilly. "STUPEFY!" After Wormtail's limp body fell to the ground, with Lucius' right next to it, Voldemort held up a hand, and he and all his Death Eaters dissapeared.
Back at Hogwarts, Harry came to lying down, on a bed, wrapped tightly in sheets. He tried to open his eyes, but groaned instead.
"Harry? Are you awake?" a voice that sounded like Hermione's said.
Harry finally succeeded in opening his eyes, and saw the blurry figures of Ron and Hermione sitting beside the bed.
"Wha-what happened?" Harry croaked. Hermione and Ron's faces were contorted with worry.
"That's what we would like to know. You have been here for three days, but this is the first time you woke up." Hermione said.
"All we know is some vague details the Daily Prophet wrote about." Ron added, handing the newspaper to Harry. Harry put on his glasses, and looked down at the head page.
He-Who-Must-NOT-Be-Named Returns
In a brief statement Friday night, Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge confirmed that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has returned to this country and is active once more.
"It is with great regret that I must confirm that the wizard stylizing himself Lord- well, you know who I mean- is alive and among us once again." Said Fudge, looking tired and flustered as he addressed reporters. "It is with equal regret that we report the mass revolt of the dementors of Azkaban, who have shown themselves averse to continuing in the Ministries employ. We believe that the dementors are currently taking direction from Lord- Thingy."
Harry skimmed the rest, not really caring what it said.
"Hey, what about Wormtail? How come there is nothing here on him?" Harry glared at the paper.
"Well..." Hermione started " you see, they aren't done questioning him. The Ministry refuses to acknowledge the fact that he is Pettigrew until they are 'positively sure'"
"Harry, don't think about it too much. You need your rest. You got hurt pretty bad, you know" Ron said.
Harry noticed for the first time a thick bandage wrapped around his chest, and a dull ache that occupied every part of his body. He was also very tired.
"Dumbledore said after you rest up a bit, he would come to see you." Hermione got up, Ron following her. "We said we would tell him when you wake up." she looked a little sad at having to leave. Madame Pomfrey chose that moment to bustle into the room, arms laden with potions.
"Good, you're leaving. Young Mister Potter needs his rest. Now, SHOO!" She waved he free hand at Hermione and Ron.
"See you later, mate" Ron said, before the two left out the door.
Madam Pomfrey looked down at Harry, and huffed, muttering about students who injure themselves way too much.
"Here, drink this." She handed Harry a bottle of an odd colored potion. "It's a mix of a few different things, and will make you tired, but it works."
Harry took the bottle from her, and downed it in one gulp. He immediately felt the tiredness creeping on him, and his eyes started to droop. His head fell against the pillow, and he went into a comfortable slumber.
When he awoke again, he saw the cheery face of Albus Dumbledore leaning over him.
"Ah! Mister Potter, you are awake at last." He said. "I believe there are some things you want to discuss with me?"
"Yes, Sir... about... the prophecy-" Harry started.
"Hmm, the prophecy. I trust you heard the whole thing?" Dumbledore asked.
"Well, yes, but... what did it mean?"
"It meant" said Dumbledore "that the only chance of conquering Lord Voldemort for good was born at the end of July, nearly sixteen years ago. This boy would be born to parents who had already defied Voldemort three times."
Harry felt as though something was closing in apon him. His breathing seemed difficult.
"It means-me?"
Dumbledore surveyed him for a moment through his glasses.
"The odd thing is, Harry" he said softly, "that it may nit have meant you at all. Sibyll's prophecy could have applied to two wizar boys, both born at the end of july that year, both of whom had parents in the Order of the Phoenix, both sets of parents having narrowlly excaped Voldemort three times. One, of course, was you. The other was Neville Longbottom."
"But then... but then, why was my name on the prophecy and not Neville's?"
"The official record was labled after Voldermort's attack on you as a child," said Dumbledore. "It seemed plain to the keeper of the Hall of Prophecy that Voldemort could only have tried to kill you because he knew you to be the only one to whom Sybll was referring."
"Then-it might not be me?" said Harry.
"I am afraid," said Dumbledore slowly, looking as though every word cost him a great effort, "that there is no doubt that it is you."
"But you said-- Neville was born at the end of July too-- and his mum and dad-"
"You are forgetting the next part of the prophecy, the final identifying feature of the boy who could vanquish Voldemort... Voldemort himself would 'mark him as his equal'. And so he did, Harry. He chose you, not Neville. He gave you the scar that has proved both blessing and curse."
"But he might have chosen wrong!" said Harry. "He might have marked the wrong person!"
"he chose the boy he thought most likely to be a danger to him," said Dumbledore. "And notice this, Harry. He chose, not the pureblood (which, according to his creed, is the only kind of wizard worth being or knowing), but the half- blood, like himself. He saw himself in you before he had ever seen you, and in marking you with that scar, he did not kill you, as he intended, but gave you powers, and a future, which have fitted you to excape from him not once, but four times so far-something that neither your parents, nor Neville's parents, ever achieved."
"Why did he do it, then?" asked Harry, who felt numb and cold. "Why did he try to kill me as a baby? He should have waited to see weither Neville or I looked more dangerous when we were older and tried to kill whoever it was then-"
"That might, indeed, have been the more pratical course," said Dumbledore, "except that Voldemort's information about the prophecy was incomplete. The Hog's Head Inn, which Sybll chose for its cheapness, has long attracted, shall we say, a more interesting clientele than the Three broomsticks. As you and your friends found out to your cost, and I to mine that night, it is a place where it is necer safe to assume you are not being overheard. Of course, I had not dreamed, when I had set out to meet Sybll Trelawny, that I would hear anything worth overhearing. My-our-one stroke of good fortune was that the eavesdropper was detected only a short was into the prophecy and thrown out of the building."
"So he only heard...?"
"He only heard the first part, telling of the birth of a boy in July to parents who had thrice defied Voldemort. He did not know you would have 'power the Dark Lord knows not'-"
"But I don't!" said Harry in a strangeled voice. " I haven't any powers he hasn't got.... I don't think... do I...?"
"There is a room in the Department of Mysteries," said Dumbledore, "that is keeped locked at all times. It contains a force that is at once more wonderful and terrible than death, than human intelligence, than forces of nature. It is also, perhaps, the most mysterious os subjects for study that reside there. It is the power held within that room that you posess in such quantities and which Voldemort has not at all. That power took you there, without your body."
Harry closed his eyes, remembering the rest of the prophecy. Harry asked, without caring much about the answer, "The end of the prophecy... it was something about...'neither can live...'"
"'....while the other survives,'" said Dumbledore.
"so," said Harry, dredging up the words from what felt like a deep well of dispair inside him, "so does that mean that... that one of us has got to kill the other one... in the end?"
"Yes." Said Dumbledore. "And now that Voldemort has heard the full prophecy, he knows. You have got to be more careful than ever."
- AUTHOR"S NOTE-
Well, here is another chapter of my story! Wahoo! I try to update every other day... so far I am doing good!
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