Disclaimer: Whatever I said, I'm sorry.

Chapter Twelve -

The Three Prophecies

Harry and Ginny had been able to drag the lot of them to the side as they made their way down to dinner in the great hall. They invited Luna to come into the Gryffindor Common room for the first time, and she was dazed and pleased to be considered a part of their group.

He had waited until the common room was empty of students, then he just said with a straight face that he was the prophecied saviour of the wizarding world. He told them all about the contents of the prophecy.

Harry was right about one thing. The others definitely didn't take the news as well as Ginny had.

Hermione vowed immediately to gather up as many books as possible on duels and dueling. Ron began to pace the common room, and mutter things about how unreliable divination was, and how stupid Trelawney was probably just doing it for effect. Many threats were involved, and much emphatic cursing.

Neville sat ashen faced in one of the maroon wingback chairs, and Luna was looking slightly uncomfortable in the unfamiliar common room. She was sitting at one of the tables, staring vacantly at a tapestry and shredding a spare bit of parchment into tiny bits. Ginny had tried valiantly to get them all to see her point of view on the matter, but all they seemed to be able to focus on was the dreaded kill or be killed scenario that Harry was now faced with.

"I don't expect you all to sit by idly while I go off and get myself killed, but I would like you all to respect the final battle as mine and mine alone. I don't want more people killed because I happen to be the one he's after." Harry tried to look threatening as he stared at his friends.

Ron stared back just as threateningly."It doesn't matter what you think, mate. I personally think that this whole prophecy dung heap is just that. A festering pile of dragon droppings with Trelawney as the queen worm. I'm going to do whatever it takes to prove that she's wrong, if I have to kill you-know-who myself."

"That's the spirit!" Hermione cheered and clapped, looking more nervous than she sounded. "Down with all prophecies!"

"Now Hermione." Luna chided, still staring vacantly at the tapestry as though Hermione were actually woven into it. "You know they wouldn't have kept that room in the Department of Mysteries full of prophecy copies if they didn't somehow have proof that it was real."

Hermione said nothing, but glared angrily at Luna.

"Besides," Luna continued, "It's not like Dumbledore would ever let anything happen to you. He's working so hard right now for the Order, and now that I've heard the whole prophecy, some of the things that he's done make a lot of sense. He's been doing all of that for you, Harry. He is a brilliant man, no one can deny it. As long as he's on your team, you'll be safe." She had stopped shredding the parchment into bits, and was looking a bit more confident once she had said this. It was like she was only just discovering the idea as she said it aloud.

A voice spoke up so quietly they hardly heard it. "It could easily have been me, couldn't it?"

Harry walked over to Neville, and collapsed into the chair beside him. "Yes, it could have... but I was the one marked, so now we know for certain that I'm the one she meant."

"God, I'm glad it's you and not me!" Neville let out in a puff of air. "I wouldn't last a second against you-know-who!"

"Yes you would." Said Harry. "All you would have to do is call him by his real name to his face, and there you have your defense."

"What?" Neville looked confused. "How would that give me defense?"

"His name is feared. He likes to make people fear him as it gives him power. Ergo, you call him Voldemort, and you take away his power. He begins to fear you, and you now have power."

"Deductive reasoning dear Watson!" Hermione yelled sarcastically. She seemed to be speaking louder than she'd realized. It was something Harry noticed that she did when she was nervous. Her voice would rise in pitch and volume until it was shrill to an earsplitting level, then she would stand up nervously and run to the library.

Which was exactly what she did.

Sometimes, Harry thought Hermione found some sort of salvation in her books, and he was determined to give it a try sometime.

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They all spent the dinner hour pushing their food around on their plates.

A few people came by to say hello, and their fellow Gryffindors were carrying on a raucous conversation about quidditch, but for the most part the department of mysteries group were left alone with their morbid thoughts.

Harry knew what they were all thinking. They were all thinking about how dangerous it was going to be around him. They were thinking about the sacrifices they were going to have to make when Harry faced Voldemort again. They were all pitying Harry.

Which made Harry remember Snape, and what the professor had been keeping hidden in his subconscious.

He abruptly stood up.

"Harry, what are you...?" Hermione started.

"I have something to do. I'll be back in a moment." He walked quickly up to the professor's table to the place where Snape was sitting, chewing on a greasy drumstick.

Snape swallowed hard, and sneered at the boy before him.

Harry tamped down his emotions. "Professor Snape, may I speak with you for a moment?" he asked as politely as possible.

Snape looked over at Dumbledore on his left. "Pardon me Headmaster, but I have some... business to attend to." He stood up and escorted Harry from the great hall.

Many eyes followed as they went, and Harry felt a bit like an animal on display. It was rare for Harry to be seen in Snape's presence, much less request the potions master's presence.

When they had reached the open entrance hall, they ducked into a nearby classroom. It so happened that the classroom they stepped into was now that of professor Firenze. It was still decorated to look like a replica of the forbidden forest, and with all the tall trees around them in the darkness, Harry felt very much like he was being watched.

He willed the emotions of fear away, and the strange sensation of having an eavesdropper intensified. For a moment, Harry was only confused.

"All right Potter, get on with it. I haven't got all day, you know!" Snape sputtered impatiently.

"Just a moment sir..." Harry's eyes darted from tree to tree and as far beyond as his eyes could make out in the darkness of the classroom, but nothing was there. At least he couldn't actually see anything. But he could somehow feel that something wasn't right. There was something there that he couldn't see.

"Please come out so I can see you!" Harry called to the empty forest.

"What?.." Snape now looked incredibly confused, and looked around him to see who Harry thought he was talking to.

Professor Firenze sauntered slowly out of the darkness, materializing silently as if he had been visible all along. Harry nodded to him, not entirely surprised to see him there.

"Harry Potter." The centaur bowed his blond head low, and bent one hoof before him to show his respect, and nodded in appreciation when Harry bowed back. "I understand what you are looking for. I will remain outside the classroom until you have finished your talk." He pointed to the star-studded ceiling. "Before I leave, I must give you warning, Harry Potter. The planet of War shines ever more brightly this fall. I fear the worst is yet to come."

"I know." Said Harry, his eyes flitting toward Mars. "Thank you." For some reason, Harry had much more respect for Firenze's predictions than he had Trelawney's. Firenze had always made it clear to him that he couldn't ever know for certain what would happen, and Harry was a little more comforted by the centaur's tendency for obscurity. It certainly made more sense to warn someone about a gut feeling of danger than to tell them exactly what was going to happen to them. There was less of a chance with an obscure fortune telling, that the prophecy itself would spur on the prophecized events. That was the mistake Trelawney had made with her first prophecy. Harry's own parents were dead because of it.

Firenze walked past them, and out the door. Harry turned to look at professor Snape, who was glaring at Harry suspiciously.

"How did you know he was there?"

If Harry hadn't known Snape quite so well, he might have thought that Snape was actually curious.

"I don't know. It doesn't matter. I have to tell you something."

"All right, get on with it."

"I was inside your mind today in class, and I wanted to apologize."

Snape gawked. "You were WHERE?"

"Inside your mind." Harry didn't want to see Snape explode, which looked to be a real possibility at the moment, so he quickly continued. "I didn't mean to or anything-"

"You didn't MEAN to? How could you break into my mind without the intention to do so!?" Snape's eyes were beginning to bug out of his face, and his lips were turning white with rage. "I am a master Occlumens! You must be joking!"

If Harry had wanted to feel all of his emotions, he might have felt fear. As it was, he hardly flinched at his professor's dark expression.

"I'm not able to control it completely yet, Sir. When I went into your class, I made myself forget all my emotions. I don't like the fact that you are a legilimens, and I've practiced my occlumency along with my meditation since summer began." Harry took in the expression of disbelief and anger on Snape's face. "I think I got the two mixed up during class, that's all."

Snape smirked. "It just goes to show that you never seem to get things right." He scowled.

Harry ignored the barb. "I know what you think of me."

"What, that you're a stuck up, snivelling little brat who can't keep his nose out of other people's business?"

"I know that you pity me, and I want you to stop." Harry said placidly, but with an undertone of darkness and anger beginning to seep out. "I don't like pity, and least of all from someone like you."

Harry spun on his heel, and ran from the classroom. He muttered a quick thanks to Firenze as he passed.

Harry couldn't go back to the great hall. He knew he was about to explode with the anger that was now rushing back in. He fled through the tall oak doors of the entrance hall and out into the night.

He made it halfway across the courtyard to the quiddich pitch before he knew he was in trouble.

To hold off the explosion, he conjured a ball of blue flame in his palm without his wand or a single word. He growled as loud as he could, and chucked the ball of fire at the ground before his feet.

The explosion it created echoed around the courtyard and forced Harry's eyes away from the fierce glow.

When Harry turned back, feeling quite released of the emotional fervour, he saw that a black singed hole was left in the stones. He felt slightly guilty, realizing that he would now have something else to apologize for.

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He returned to the great hall in a very somber mood, just in time for the meal to finish up, and the students pushed past him up the stairs to their dormitories.

Just outside the great hall, Harry caught up with Ron and Hermione, who were having a heated argument.

"I'm not going to put up with any of her bollocks this year. She can't scare me away from class by spouting gibberish." Ron said with a red face.

Hermione was shaking her head at Ron. "You can't just assume that it's all just a bunch of- oh, hello Harry." She had seen Harry over Ron's shoulder.

Harry had the feeling that they had been talking about Trelawney and the prophecy.

"So..." said Ron quietly, confirming Harry's thoughts. "I guess this makes for three stupid prophecies that woman has made about you. Don't you ever wonder why she doesn't torture someone else?"

"What did this last one say again?" Hermione mumbled. "Something about when Dark and light meet... and the wisest one making a choice?"

Harry thought about it. "To be honest, I don't remember her exact wording..." An epiphany broke into Harry's mind. "Come on! I know how to find out!" He grabbed both of his friends by the arms, and dragged them up to Gryffindor tower.

They stated the password, and headed directly for the winding staircase to the boys dormitories.

"What did you want to show us?" Hermione huffed when they had reached the sixth-years landing.

"My pensieve." Harry was breathing just as heavily. "I could show you exactly what she said." They all walked through the door, and were pleased to find the room empty. Harry didn't want to have to share this particular prophecy with anyone else tonight.

Harry rummaged through his trunk, and pulled out the small rune-covered bowl. He placed it on the desk top, and waited for a moment, while the memory of Trelawney slumped in her chair came to his mind.

He lightly touched his wand to his temple, and drew out a long silvery filament of thought. He dropped it lightly into the bowl, and it formed a silver puddle in the bottom.

Harry prodded the substance with his wand, and the small ghostly form of Trelawney rose out of the pensieve

"When Light and Dark next meet, even the wisest of us all cannot sever the link they hold... Interference may prove costly, and light must choose the price."

The figure of Trelawney sank back into the bowl, and Harry returned the filament of thought to his mind.

"So" Harry said. "If I can assume that Trelawney is talking about myself and Voldemort..." He stood up to pace. "Our connection? Could be that my mind will link with his the same way it did when Percy was attacked... Or maybe some other way?" He thought briefly about fourth year when he had duelled with Voldemort for the first time. Their wands had somehow joined when they had simultaneously shot spells at each other. That could be what the prophecy intended, but Harry didn't want to mention it. The only people who had known about Harry and Voldemort's wands sharing cores were Dumbledore, Sirius, and Mr. Ollivander, the man who had sold him the wand just over five years previously.

Harry sighed. "I don't know. Someone will try to sever this link between us. Someone wise... Dumbledore maybe? He did tell me that if he could spare me from seeing those things he would..."

"And if you're right about that, then you're going to have to make an important decision of some kind." Hermione's eyes had the glazed look that said she needed to get to the library, and fast.

"If I were you..." Ron began thoughtfully. "I would probably think a lot about my priorities. Work on a strategy."

"What do you mean?" Harry stopped pacing for a moment.

"If you know what's important to you ahead of time, then you can make a more logical and educated decision for... whatever it is you have to choose between. It's like chess. Instead of just reacting split second to whatever your opponent does, you need to know what it is you're aiming for; find out what the end goal is."

Harry thought about that idea. "All right. I see your point. Even though I don't know what I'm supposed to decide between, I can know ahead of time what I need in the end, and make a decision based on that."

"So what is your number one priority?" Hermione asked.

Harry looked at her, slightly dumbfounded.

"Just tell us what your choices are for your priorities for this war, and maybe we can help you sort them out."

Harry nodded warily. He wasn't sure he liked the idea of telling them everything he thought about regarding the war. It wasn't all pleasant, and he really didn't know where to start.

"Do you think you have the ability to kill, Harry?" Hermione asked softly, cutting straight to the heart of the matter.

"I don't know." Harry said honestly. "I don't like the thought, but I probably could, depending on the circumstances."

"What sort of things would you kill for?" Ron asked.

Harry blushed. "My friends."

"And?" Ron prompted, not fazed at all by the honour Harry seemed to be bestowing on him.

"Well, pretty much anyone who can't defend themselves. I hate the thought of merciless killing, and I would probably do anything I could to stop other innocent people from dying." Harry thought about Cedric Diggory. He was a fellow student who had died without mercy and without foreknowledge. It made Harry's chest hurt a little to think about it. Sirius at least, had come to the fight in the department of mysteries knowing he was headed for battle.

"Killing Voldemort would do that, wouldn't it?" Hermione pointed out. "You said you could kill to save innocent people from barbaric deaths."

"So, you're telling me I have the ability to kill Voldemort, but only if it's for the right reasons?"

"Well, do you think you could kill out of anger?" Ron asked quietly.

"Probably not. I know I'm pretty powerful when I get angry, but I don't think I could kill. It just doesn't sound... right."

"So we'll chuck the idea of any revenge killings out of the bag." Ron said easily. "Good thing, too. I don't want to have to watch out for Fred and George, after all of the pranks they've played on you over the years."

Harry smiled. It was amazing, how he could depend on these two to cheer him up. He remembered that it had been a very long time since the three of them had been alone together, and despite the dark subject matter, Harry was having a good time. It felt like he was eleven again, and the three of them were slowly descending into the bowels of the school, searching out the philosopher's stone. Only now, they were descending into the depths of Harry's subconscious, searching out the answers he needed to who he was.

No matter how dire the situation got, Harry knew he could always depend on his friends.