DIES IRAE / The day of Wrath
Dies irae, dies illa / The day of wrath; that day,
solvet saeclum in favilla, / it will dissolve the world into glowing ashes,
teste David cum Sibylla. / as attested by David together with the Sibyl.
Quantus tremor est futurus, / What trembling will there be,
quando iudex est venturus, / when the Judge shall come
cuncta stricte discussurus? / to examine everything in strict justice.
Tuba mirum spargens sonum, / The trumpet's wondrous call sounding abroad
per sepulchra regionum, / in tombs throughout the world
coget omnes ante thronum. / shall drive everybody forward to the throne.
Mors stupebit et natura, / Death and nature shall stand amazed
cum resurget creatura, / when creation rises again
iudicanti responsura. / to give answer to its Judge.
Liber scriptus proferetur / A written book will be brought forth
in quo totum continetur, / in which everything is contained
unde mundus iudicetur. / from which the world shall be judged
Iudex ergo cum sedebit, / So when the Judge is seated,
quidquid latet, apparebit; / whatever is hidden will be made known:
nil inultum remanebit. / nothing shall go unpunished.
Mors stupebit et natura, / Death and nature shall stand amazed
cum resurget creatura, / when creation rises again
iudicanti responsura. / to give answer to its Judge
Quid sum miser tunc dicturus? / What shall I, wretch, say at that time?
Quem patronum rogaturus, / What advocate shall I entreat (to plead for me)
cum vix iustus sit securus? / when scarcely the righteous shall be safe from damnation?
---
"They're horrible, horrible people," Hermione said on the trip back to Hogwarts. "Poor Harry! Having to stay with them. It's a wonder he grew up so well, with people like that as guardians."
"It's a wonder he grew up at all. Had I known they were that horrible, I would have made sure Mum and Dad allowed him to stay every summer."
"He had to stay with them during the summers, Ron. Because of the charm. He needed to be in the house of his mother's blood, remember?"
"Yeah, a fat lot of good it did him. He might as well have been unprotected and happy."
Dumbledore looked frightfully fragile and old, sitting in his muggle clothes, staring off into space as the subway train rushed onwards, not at all the fiery image of justice he had been in their last encounter with the Dark Lord. He'd said hardly a word since they had left the Dursleys, and his eyes seemed to have lost the merry sparkle they always held before, even the hard glint of ice that had been there when talking with Mr. Dursley seemed to be gone.
When Hermione addressed him, he almost didn't hear her, "What did Harry's aunt mean by a prophecy?"
Dumbledore opened his mouth to speak, but then thought better of what he wanted to say. He started again, "I promise to tell you all, however here is not a good place to do it," He glanced around the train car. Hermione did too.The car was empty except for a little old lady carrying her shopping. Hermione nodded to Dumbledore and said nothing more about it.
----
When they got back to Hogwarts, it was about lunchtime. So the four went down to the great hall where they met Snape, on his way out, "Mr. Longbottom," Snape nodded, "Mr, Weasley, Miss Granger." He did not adress Dumbledore.
Since Harry's death, Snape had been acting very oddly. He hardly would look at Dumbledore, and even more rarely spoke to him. Snape had always been on the more reserved side, but this went beyond that. Something had changed in their relationship. Every time Dumbledore went to talk to him, he found an excuse to leave the room.
That wasn't the only odd thing about his behavior, Hermione noticed, during potions, (the only one of the four to get enough OWL's to be in his advanced class) he seemed to have stopped giving her a hard time, although Hermione got the sense that it wasn't any sort of kindness stemming from Harry's death, or the terrible way he had treated her in the past, it was more like a rebellion. There was a sense of defiance, every time he complemented the way she chopped her bryndle weed just right, or when he used her potion as an example to the class, or didn't refuse to call on her like he used to do when he knew she had the right answers.
"Severus, may I speak with you?"
Snape turned, he'd been walking towards the Slytherin dorms, "Can it wait, Headmaster? I have some business I must take care of."
"I'm afraid I may have allowed this to wait too long," Dumbledore said, "Won't you....?" He motioned to a door that Ron knew lead the quickest way to Dumbledore's office.
Snape threw a swift glance at Hermione, "Miss Granger, I will speak with you later about your report on how to bottle fame, brew glory, and stopper death." He then followed Dumbledore, who was giving him a very odd look, out of the room, leaving the children to the food and drinks Dobby had brought them.
For a moment, Hermione looked confused, she had no such paper due in Snape's class. But then she figured he must have meant the report on the properties of the Mimbulus Mimbletonia. Although she couldn't think why he had put it in so queer a fashion. Bottling fame, brewing glory and stoppering death had not been within the scope of her research.
---
"You are going to tell her, aren't you, Severus." Dumbledore said once his office door had closed.
"No. You are. Or she'll figure it out on her own, she's a clever enough witch. I won't, however, stop her."
"Yes, Miss Granger is very clever." Dumbledore refused to look at him, instead he looked at an envelope, unopened on his desk. He sat down.
"And when she does figure it out," Snape pressed, "She will be a force to be reckoned with. Or else she will be a broken shell. The cleverest of her class, reduced to a husk. It will be up to her which path she choses." He said pointedly, "The choice you have is, will you tell her, or won't you? Either way she'll find out." Snape's eyes were shining as emotions built up over weeks, no, years, finally were allowed to be vocalised, "I was hoping she'd figure it out before the damage was irreparable. It's too late now. Your last line of defense has been a casualty of-"
"Do you want me to say I made the wrong decision, Severus? Well then, I admit it. Yes, I made the wrong decision. There. Feeling better? Because I don't. What I have done is far, far more hideous than anything Voldemort has accomplished. How I manipulated, what I have done to Harry, to Sirius, to Neville and to the wizarding world itself is unforgivable. But it doesn't negate I had good reasons for what I did, I had the best of intentions."
"The road to hell is-"
"I'm already there, Severus. Paved with intentions and all." Silence reigned over the room. The only sound was the whirring of devices on Dumbledore's tables and the soft breathing of Fawkes.
"For a while," Dumbledore said quietly, still not looking up from the envelope, his face was contorted with the pain of severe remorse; his eyebrows were knitted together and his eyes shone with unshed tears, "I really believed it was Harry. I truly believed that, that I had made the wrong choice after all. After that day with the Philosopher's stone...I couldn't have been more thrilled. I was convinced he was the one, that my brilliant plan had backfired and I had chosen the wrong boy. I was already having second thoughts, you see. Thank god, I thought, thank god I'd made the wrong choice. And then Harry defeated Voldemort's diary, and beaten the basilisk and rescued Miss Weasley. That helped to assure me that I had indeed made the wrong choice. And then Voldemort returned to power, and yet again Harry eluded him. By that time I was blind with love for the boy. He was like a grandson to me. I hadn't managed to keep my distance like I had promised myself I would, I told him that once. I was so blinded by love for Harry's welfare, that I began to believe my own lies. I was sure he was going to be the one to fulfill the prophecy. In the begining, it was about the big picture. My concern was defeating Voldemort. It was only later when I realised that choosing the right boy would really be doing the wrong thing. But I was consoled in the fact that I was sure I'd chosen the wrong boy."
"You're going to have to tell the right boy." Severus said slowly and with a gentleness that one would not expect from him, "You're going to have to tell him the whole truth. Everything. Yes. he will hate you for it. But the fact reamains that we are running out of time. The Dark Lord is drunk with his success at vanquishing who he believes was his enemy. At the same time, Harry's death, after his fame had been made so public, has broken the spirit of the population. They are offering little resistance, even less than last time. What would be the point? If Harry Potter couldn't escape death, than how could they?"
Dumbledore was sitting very still, his face wet with tears, but his eyes were focused on a device in a side cabinet. It was the device which had given Dumbledore the reassuring reading of the smoke serpents. It had been one of the things that convinced Dumbledore that Harry was the one mentioned in the prophecy, finally allaying his fears that he was putting an innocent in harms way. He took it out again, and the smoke serpents still danced. That shouldn't have been. It seemed clear to Dumbledore that Harry's essence was divided with voldemort's through the scar, but the snakes shouldn't have been showing that now... Harry was dead, and Neville had no such scar connection.
Severus broke through Dumbledore's thoughts like Harry's final death knell. "Your decoy is gone. We must act before Voldemort discovers that his enemy has not yet been vanquished."
Dies irae, dies illa / The day of wrath; that day,
solvet saeclum in favilla, / it will dissolve the world into glowing ashes,
teste David cum Sibylla. / as attested by David together with the Sibyl.
Quantus tremor est futurus, / What trembling will there be,
quando iudex est venturus, / when the Judge shall come
cuncta stricte discussurus? / to examine everything in strict justice.
Tuba mirum spargens sonum, / The trumpet's wondrous call sounding abroad
per sepulchra regionum, / in tombs throughout the world
coget omnes ante thronum. / shall drive everybody forward to the throne.
Mors stupebit et natura, / Death and nature shall stand amazed
cum resurget creatura, / when creation rises again
iudicanti responsura. / to give answer to its Judge.
Liber scriptus proferetur / A written book will be brought forth
in quo totum continetur, / in which everything is contained
unde mundus iudicetur. / from which the world shall be judged
Iudex ergo cum sedebit, / So when the Judge is seated,
quidquid latet, apparebit; / whatever is hidden will be made known:
nil inultum remanebit. / nothing shall go unpunished.
Mors stupebit et natura, / Death and nature shall stand amazed
cum resurget creatura, / when creation rises again
iudicanti responsura. / to give answer to its Judge
Quid sum miser tunc dicturus? / What shall I, wretch, say at that time?
Quem patronum rogaturus, / What advocate shall I entreat (to plead for me)
cum vix iustus sit securus? / when scarcely the righteous shall be safe from damnation?
---
"They're horrible, horrible people," Hermione said on the trip back to Hogwarts. "Poor Harry! Having to stay with them. It's a wonder he grew up so well, with people like that as guardians."
"It's a wonder he grew up at all. Had I known they were that horrible, I would have made sure Mum and Dad allowed him to stay every summer."
"He had to stay with them during the summers, Ron. Because of the charm. He needed to be in the house of his mother's blood, remember?"
"Yeah, a fat lot of good it did him. He might as well have been unprotected and happy."
Dumbledore looked frightfully fragile and old, sitting in his muggle clothes, staring off into space as the subway train rushed onwards, not at all the fiery image of justice he had been in their last encounter with the Dark Lord. He'd said hardly a word since they had left the Dursleys, and his eyes seemed to have lost the merry sparkle they always held before, even the hard glint of ice that had been there when talking with Mr. Dursley seemed to be gone.
When Hermione addressed him, he almost didn't hear her, "What did Harry's aunt mean by a prophecy?"
Dumbledore opened his mouth to speak, but then thought better of what he wanted to say. He started again, "I promise to tell you all, however here is not a good place to do it," He glanced around the train car. Hermione did too.The car was empty except for a little old lady carrying her shopping. Hermione nodded to Dumbledore and said nothing more about it.
----
When they got back to Hogwarts, it was about lunchtime. So the four went down to the great hall where they met Snape, on his way out, "Mr. Longbottom," Snape nodded, "Mr, Weasley, Miss Granger." He did not adress Dumbledore.
Since Harry's death, Snape had been acting very oddly. He hardly would look at Dumbledore, and even more rarely spoke to him. Snape had always been on the more reserved side, but this went beyond that. Something had changed in their relationship. Every time Dumbledore went to talk to him, he found an excuse to leave the room.
That wasn't the only odd thing about his behavior, Hermione noticed, during potions, (the only one of the four to get enough OWL's to be in his advanced class) he seemed to have stopped giving her a hard time, although Hermione got the sense that it wasn't any sort of kindness stemming from Harry's death, or the terrible way he had treated her in the past, it was more like a rebellion. There was a sense of defiance, every time he complemented the way she chopped her bryndle weed just right, or when he used her potion as an example to the class, or didn't refuse to call on her like he used to do when he knew she had the right answers.
"Severus, may I speak with you?"
Snape turned, he'd been walking towards the Slytherin dorms, "Can it wait, Headmaster? I have some business I must take care of."
"I'm afraid I may have allowed this to wait too long," Dumbledore said, "Won't you....?" He motioned to a door that Ron knew lead the quickest way to Dumbledore's office.
Snape threw a swift glance at Hermione, "Miss Granger, I will speak with you later about your report on how to bottle fame, brew glory, and stopper death." He then followed Dumbledore, who was giving him a very odd look, out of the room, leaving the children to the food and drinks Dobby had brought them.
For a moment, Hermione looked confused, she had no such paper due in Snape's class. But then she figured he must have meant the report on the properties of the Mimbulus Mimbletonia. Although she couldn't think why he had put it in so queer a fashion. Bottling fame, brewing glory and stoppering death had not been within the scope of her research.
---
"You are going to tell her, aren't you, Severus." Dumbledore said once his office door had closed.
"No. You are. Or she'll figure it out on her own, she's a clever enough witch. I won't, however, stop her."
"Yes, Miss Granger is very clever." Dumbledore refused to look at him, instead he looked at an envelope, unopened on his desk. He sat down.
"And when she does figure it out," Snape pressed, "She will be a force to be reckoned with. Or else she will be a broken shell. The cleverest of her class, reduced to a husk. It will be up to her which path she choses." He said pointedly, "The choice you have is, will you tell her, or won't you? Either way she'll find out." Snape's eyes were shining as emotions built up over weeks, no, years, finally were allowed to be vocalised, "I was hoping she'd figure it out before the damage was irreparable. It's too late now. Your last line of defense has been a casualty of-"
"Do you want me to say I made the wrong decision, Severus? Well then, I admit it. Yes, I made the wrong decision. There. Feeling better? Because I don't. What I have done is far, far more hideous than anything Voldemort has accomplished. How I manipulated, what I have done to Harry, to Sirius, to Neville and to the wizarding world itself is unforgivable. But it doesn't negate I had good reasons for what I did, I had the best of intentions."
"The road to hell is-"
"I'm already there, Severus. Paved with intentions and all." Silence reigned over the room. The only sound was the whirring of devices on Dumbledore's tables and the soft breathing of Fawkes.
"For a while," Dumbledore said quietly, still not looking up from the envelope, his face was contorted with the pain of severe remorse; his eyebrows were knitted together and his eyes shone with unshed tears, "I really believed it was Harry. I truly believed that, that I had made the wrong choice after all. After that day with the Philosopher's stone...I couldn't have been more thrilled. I was convinced he was the one, that my brilliant plan had backfired and I had chosen the wrong boy. I was already having second thoughts, you see. Thank god, I thought, thank god I'd made the wrong choice. And then Harry defeated Voldemort's diary, and beaten the basilisk and rescued Miss Weasley. That helped to assure me that I had indeed made the wrong choice. And then Voldemort returned to power, and yet again Harry eluded him. By that time I was blind with love for the boy. He was like a grandson to me. I hadn't managed to keep my distance like I had promised myself I would, I told him that once. I was so blinded by love for Harry's welfare, that I began to believe my own lies. I was sure he was going to be the one to fulfill the prophecy. In the begining, it was about the big picture. My concern was defeating Voldemort. It was only later when I realised that choosing the right boy would really be doing the wrong thing. But I was consoled in the fact that I was sure I'd chosen the wrong boy."
"You're going to have to tell the right boy." Severus said slowly and with a gentleness that one would not expect from him, "You're going to have to tell him the whole truth. Everything. Yes. he will hate you for it. But the fact reamains that we are running out of time. The Dark Lord is drunk with his success at vanquishing who he believes was his enemy. At the same time, Harry's death, after his fame had been made so public, has broken the spirit of the population. They are offering little resistance, even less than last time. What would be the point? If Harry Potter couldn't escape death, than how could they?"
Dumbledore was sitting very still, his face wet with tears, but his eyes were focused on a device in a side cabinet. It was the device which had given Dumbledore the reassuring reading of the smoke serpents. It had been one of the things that convinced Dumbledore that Harry was the one mentioned in the prophecy, finally allaying his fears that he was putting an innocent in harms way. He took it out again, and the smoke serpents still danced. That shouldn't have been. It seemed clear to Dumbledore that Harry's essence was divided with voldemort's through the scar, but the snakes shouldn't have been showing that now... Harry was dead, and Neville had no such scar connection.
Severus broke through Dumbledore's thoughts like Harry's final death knell. "Your decoy is gone. We must act before Voldemort discovers that his enemy has not yet been vanquished."