CHAPTER 28: DISCOVERIES AND ENCOURAGEMENT
"She did what?" Hermione asked for the third time that night, clearly in shock over the events that had transpired only hours ago in Professor McGonagall's office.
"She let us go," Ron said. "I was beginning to think that Umbridge was going to eat us, but Professor Fox stood up to her. She's my hero," Ron sighed.
Harry frowned at Ron while Hermione rolled her eyes. "That doesn't seem right," she said, deep in thought. "I mean, why would she go against Umbridge? They're supposed to be working on the same side. Ugh!" she yelled suddenly, slamming the book she had been studying down on the table, startling Harry and Ron. "None of this makes sense!"
"Hermione's finally lost it," Ron said with wide eyes. "She's hurting her books; I'd never thought I'd see the day."
"The book's fine, Ron," Hermione huffed.
"I know what you mean," Harry said, causing two sets of eyes to look at him in surprise. "It doesn't make sense. None of it does. There's something about Professor Fox... ever since I first saw her, I've had this feeling... but I'm not even sure what the feeling is, I just know that something isn't right. She acts like a different person every time I see her. It's like she wants me to trust her, but then she's talking about some plan that they have, and I think that I'm a part of that stupid plan, and I just don't know who to believe anymore," Harry finally finished his semi-rant.
"You know you can always trust us," Hermione said loyally, causing Harry to give a small smile.
"Yeah, I know," Harry said. "It's just everyone else I don't trust," he said, remembering his previous DADA professors.
"Not even Dumbledore?" Ron asked.
Harry paused for a few seconds, considering, then said, "I don't know. He's been acting stranger than usual since the summer, and I have this feeling he's hiding something from me. He said he'd tell me once I've finished remedial potions, but I think I've gotten good enough to know."
Just then, the portrait door opened and Professor McGonagall entered. "Harry, come with me, please."
Harry gave a worried glance towards his two friends but obediently got up and followed his head of house. He figured he was still in trouble due to the Quidditch match. The party in the common room had long since died down and most people were heading to bed. It was really late, and Harry was surprised Professor McGonagall couldn't wait until morning.
Once the portrait door closed, Professor McGonagall turned to Harry and said, "Professor Dumbledore wants to see you. He's waiting in his office." With that said, she turned and walked off, presumably to get some sleep.
Harry walked the familiar path to the headmaster's office, curious as to what he wanted to discuss, while slightly nervous due to his behavior at the Quidditch match. He wouldn't get any more punishment, would he?
Harry muttered the password to the gargoyle and then slowly walked up the steps to Professor Dumbledore's office. He heard Dumbledore's voice beckoning him in before he even had a chance to knock.
Whatever Harry had expected to find upon opening the door, it wasn't this. Professor Dumbledore was sitting wearily behind his desk, his eyes had lost their familiar twinkle that had become so reassuring to Harry over the years, and he just looked, well, old.
"Professor?" Harry asked cautiously. He knew his behavior was uncalled for, actually, it was totally called for, it just wasn't very appropriate, but he didn't think it was bad enough for Dumbledore to look so... sad.
Maybe this wasn't about the Quidditch match, surely he would've summoned him earlier. Something else must have happened. Fear gripped Harry's heart as he let his thoughts wander to what could have happened. Who could have been hurt.
"Professor, is everyone okay? Is anyone hurt?"
Dumbledore gave a small smile, appreciating Harry's selfless concerns. "Everyone's fine. That's not why I called you here. Please, have a seat," he said, gesturing to the seat across from his desk where Harry had sat many times before. Fawkes came flying off his perch and landed on Harry's shoulder, giving him more reassurance and strength. He always did like Fawkes.
"If this is about the Quidditch match, I'm sorry, but Malfoy was provoking me, saying awful things..."
Dumbledore held up his hand to stop Harry's ramblings, giving a slight chuckle at the eventful afternoon. "No, it's not about that, either," he said. "Although, that was a very well played game, not to mention fairly dangerous. You'd still be in the hospital wing if Mr. Weasley hadn't caught you," he said seriously.
"Yes, sir," Harry said, feeling slightly foolish for the way he risked his life just to catch the snitch. He continued to absently stroke Fawkes' head.
"It has happened before and I have no doubt it will happen again," Dumbledore said, reminding Harry of his other dangerously played games. "When you set your mind to something, there's not much that will stop you."
Harry didn't have much to say to that. "But, if no one's hurt, and I'm not in any more trouble, why did you call me?" Harry asked, bewildered.
Dumbledore sighed heavily. "Right to the point; you were never one to be deterred. I hear your Occlumency lessons have been going quite well."
"Yes, sir," Harry said, becoming slightly more excited at where the conversation was heading. It seemed that maybe he'd finally have all the answers he so desperately wanted. But why wasn't Dumbledore happier?
"I should have told you this five years ago, but I wanted to protect you; I wanted you to have some type of happiness. Now that you have become sufficient at Occlumency, I can rest assured that this information will not be passed on to Voldemort, which I don't need to tell you would be a significant problem. I am going to tell you everything. I ask only a little patience. You will have your chance to rage at me – to do whatever you like – when I have finished. I will not stop you."
And so Dumbledore began his tale to Harry, telling him why he must stay at the Dursely's, his only blood relation, for at least a month each summer, why he neglected to inform him of this information during each opportunity that presented itself, why he watched him grow up without telling him the real reason why Voldemort wanted him dead.
Harry sat silent for most of the story, asking questions only when needed; most of it made some sense, and he couldn't be too mad at Dumbledore for not telling him. He did what he thought was appropriate at the time and he couldn't be too upset because he just wanted what was best for him. He cared about him and his happiness, and there were very few people in the world that did. No matter how much Harry might have wanted to know the truth before, he was going to get it now. No one had gotten seriously hurt, except for Cedric, but that might have happened with or without his knowledge.
"Voldemort tried to kill you when you were a child because of a prophecy made shortly before your birth. He knew that prophecy had been made, thought he did not know its full contents. The dreams you have been having are Voldemort's attempts to lure you to the Department of Mysteries where you will find the entire prophecy. Only the people the prophecy has been made about will be able to take the prophecy; therefore, Voldemort wanted you to take the prophecy so he could steal it from you. This is the weapon he has been seeking so assiduously since his return: the knowledge of how to destroy you."
Dumbledore continued on, telling the shocked Harry more details about the prophecy, how it came to be in the Department of Mysteries, how it was first told to him, and how he is the only one that knows the prophecy in its entirety.
He picked up the pensieve he had sitting on the corner of his desk and placed his wand to his temple, bringing the memory to the basin.
Much to Harry's surprise, the familiar figure of Professor Trelawney rose up, however, her voice reminded Harry more of the time during his third year exam when she predicted a servant's escape, than of her usual surreal, mystic voice.
"THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD APPROACHES... BORN TO THOSE WHO HAVE THRICE DEFIED HIM, BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES... AND THE DARK LORD WILL MARK HIM AS HIS EQUAL, BUT HE WILL HAVE POWER THE DARK LORD KNOWS NOT... AND EITHER MUST DIE AT THE HAND OF THE OTHER FOR NEITHER CAN LIVE WHILE THE OTHER SURVIVES... THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD WILL BE BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES..."
The silence that was left after the misty figure retreated back into the shallow stone basin was overwhelming. The portraits didn't move, Dumbledore didn't speak, and Fawkes had stopped his satisfied cooing that came from Harry's petting, although Harry had stopped petting him some time ago.
Harry tried to wrap his brain around the new information finally presented to him. He tried to understand what Dumbledore was trying to tell him, but he was in such a state of shock that not much was penetrating his mind. On some level he understood, but he needed Dumbledore to make sure he was right.
Harry didn't want to believe that this was his destiny, one that he couldn't escape, so when Dumbledore said that Neville had also been a potential, Harry felt a ray of hope run through him; maybe he could have a normal life after all. Maybe he could stop worrying about the dangers and threats around him and start enjoying his life with his friends.
Dumbledore crushed all his hope when he confirmed what his heart still believed; that Neville wasn't it, Neville would never be it, and it was in fact him that the prophecy was made about. "But I don't have any powers that he hasn't got!" Harry said in a strangled voice.
"There is a room in the Department of Mysteries," Dumbledore said, "that is kept locked at all times. It contains a force that is at once more wonderful and more terrible than death, than human intelligence, than forces of nature. It is also, perhaps, the most mysterious of the subjects for study that reside there. It is the power held within that room that you possess in such quantities and which Voldemort has not at all. That power has saved you over the years, led you through many different trials and has helped guide you when you were lost. It doesn't matter that you may not beat him in a proper dual, as he has access to the darkest of arts or that you might not be able to close off your mind completely. It will be, as it has been before, your heart that saves you."
Harry closed his eyes, thinking back to all the battles he had already had with Voldemort, to the one that would inevitably end it all. "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 despair inside him, "so does that mean that... that one of us has got to kill the other one... in the end?"
"Yes," said Dumbledore.
Harry sat there stunned, neither of the two said anything, allowing all the information to process. In the end, he'd either be a murderer or a victim. He didn't really want to be either. If he became a murderer, he'd become just like Voldemort. That's why he didn't let Sirius and Remus kill Pettigrew in his third year; he didn't want his dad's best friends to become murderers, no better than the person they would have killed. Now it seemed that he might become one.
"I feel I owe you another explanation, Harry," said Dumbledore hesitantly. "You may, perhaps, have wondered why I never chose you as a prefect? I must confess... that I rather thought... you had enough responsibility to be going on with."
Harry looked up at him and saw a tear trickling down Dumbledore's face into his long silver beard.
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"Buffy, you okay?" Willow asked when her friend appeared in the flat's living room.
"Yeah, it's been a long day," she said, explaining what happened with Harry, the Quidditch match and the following arguments. "I swear that kid is going to drive me into an early grave," Buffy said. "Well, another one, anyway. You should have seen the incredibly stupid dive he took. He could've been killed, falling from so high up. I know I stopped breathing for a minute and I'm fairly certain my heart stopped for a couple of beats. Even James wasn't that bad. I don't know where he gets it from, it's certainly not Lily. I'm surprised he's not dead yet, all the reckless, dangerous things he does. I've heard the stories, I know," Buffy ranted.
"Uh, Buff," Xander said with a smile, trying to get her attention.
"What?" she said snappishly.
"Well, I definitely think he's related to you," Willow said when Xander backed off.
"Who else do we know is crazy, reckless, dangerous, sometimes foolish, and rash?" Xander said, giving in to the temptation.
"I am not any of those things," Buffy said defensively.
"Uh huh," Anya snorted. "And I have all the money I've ever wanted."
"I'm not!" Buffy said, looking at her friends who were looking at her with amusement. "I have plans of attack."
"Sometimes," Willow agreed.
"And then sometimes you go in with a couple of screws loose," Xander said.
"Well, I think better on my feet," Buffy said.
"Maybe he does too," Willow said.
"Trust me, his feet were no where near the ground," Buffy said, getting back into lecture mode.
"I can't wait to see you two together," Willow said happily.
"Think of the damage that could be done," Anya said.
"As long as I don't have to fix anything, I can't wait. Maybe we could blow up another school."
"We are not destroying Hogwarts," Buffy said with wide eyes.
"But... that would actually make a school you've gone in without destroying some, if not all, of it," Willow said.
"And we can't break tradition," Xander said with a smile.
"No," Buffy said firmly.
"Okay, just admit that you can be crazy and rash and dangerous," Willow said.
"And planless," Xander added.
"I have plans," Buffy said. "Most of the time. Anyway, I don't need plans. I see the end and I get there successfully."
"As did Harry," Willow said. "He wasn't hurt, or killed, and he won, didn't he?"
"Yes, but why are you defending him?" Buffy asked.
"Just so you don't go too hard on him later," Willow said. "You've done crazier and more stupid things than he will ever do, so be nice. You want him to trust and love you, not despise you."
"Always have to be reasonable," Buffy grumbled. "Besides, he doesn't even know who I am yet."
"If you continue to assert such an active stance in controversial events, you're identity will be quickly questioned and discovered," Giles said.
"In other words," Xander said, turning to Buffy, "Keep your mouth shut and your head down, otherwise someone's going to figure it out."
"I don't know if I care anymore," Buffy said. "I mean, Sirius and Remus are probably... they're probably dead."
"You don't know that," Willow said, gently.
"They're not on the maps, Will! A long time ago I might have doubted your skills, but not anymore. If you can't find them they're not there. I don't think they can just disappear like that without being dead!"
"Geez people, lighten up."
"Faith?" Buffy asked with wide eyes, seeing the dark haired slayer enter into the room.
"The front door was open. Well, it was unlocked at least. I was in town looking for some potential slayers and thought I'd drop by. I can leave, if you want," she said, looking at all the shocked faces.
"No, no," Buffy said, coming out of her reverie. "That's fine. I'm actually... I'm glad you're here."
"Like I said, I'm only here for a couple of days at the most, but I figured you might like to go patrolling."
Buffy's eyes widened. "I would love to. I haven't been patrolling in ages! I can't believe I'd actually miss going out, but what can you do? The forest at Hogwarts is really creepy and perfect, but I'm afraid I'd just be hanging up a sign that said, 'Slayer, come eat me,' on it if I went in there."
"Well, are we gonna go? It's already pretty late," Faith said, gesturing towards the door.
"Yeah... Oh, no. I don't have any weapons and I'm supposed to do this thing with Willow."
"No, Buffy, go. We can't do anything anyway; I meant to ask you to pick up some more ingredients. We'll do it later," Willow said.
"Weapons?"
"We have some in the bedroom," Giles said.
"Kinky," Faith said.
"In the trunk under the bed," Giles added, removing his glasses with a sigh.
"But I left my favorite ones at Hogwarts," Buffy pouted.
"Aren't you a witch?" Anya asked.
Buffy brightened considerably. "Oh yeah," she said. "Ooohhh, now I can customize my very own. Wanna see some magic?" she asked Faith with a mischievous glint in her eyes.
"Sure," Faith said, after glancing at everyone else and noticing none of them seemed concerned.
Buffy whipped out her wand, muttered a few choice words under her breath and suddenly, the glass on the table next to Faith became a wicked looking sword.
Faith broke out into a wide, appreciative grin. "Now that's what I'm talking about," she said, reaching for the sword.
"Let's make it a matching pair," Buffy said, waving her wand at the dirty plate in the sink. "Ready to go?" she asked, lifting her own sword.
"Ready," Faith said, heading out the door.
"Don't wait up," Buffy said, closing the door. "Merlin, I've missed this," Buffy said, swinging the sword experimentally.
"It definitely grows on you."
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"This is a definite setback," Voldemort said, grinding his teeth in frustration.
"What is, my lord?" Wormtail said from his low bow on the ground.
"Someone taught the brat Occlumency. Now my plans to get him to steal the prophecy are useless. I'll have to find another way. Although, I bet the old fool told him what the prophecy was. It won't take too much to get it out of him. How is the project coming along?"
"Very... very good, sir. It sh... should be ready before Christmas," Wormtail said.
"Excellent. And what of this new professor that's causing so much trouble?"
"My Lord," Lucius said stepping forward, keeping his head bowed. "I do not recognize her as a Ministry official. I have even checked the records of employees and there has been no one named Sarah Fox ever working there, in any department. Sarah Fox does not exist."
"Well, I suggest you find out who she is," Voldemort said, his silky voice laced with the promise of pain.
"Yes, my Lord," Malfoy said, stepping back in relief that he wasn't tortured this time.
"Now everyone get back to work. I want this finished!" Voldemort said.
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"I'm worried about him, Ron," Hermione said as she walked to class with only one of her best friends. "Dumbledore must have told him something awful. He came in so late last night, he hasn't talked to us all morning, and he didn't even have breakfast."
"Do you think he'll show up for class?" Ron asked.
"Why would he?" Hermione asked, as if the idea of skipping class was totally absurd. "It is Defense Against the Dark Arts; it's his favorite class."
Ron just rolled his eyes at Hermione's attitude. They walked into the class and sat in their normal seats, getting a little anxious when they discovered Harry wasn't in class yet. They weren't that early themselves.
"Where is he Ron?" Hermione asked anxiously. Unbeknownst to them, Buffy heard their conversation, thanks to her Slayer hearing, and was wondering what could have happened now.
Just as she was about to start class, Harry Potter came through the door, not looking all that good. Buffy frowned as she surveyed his extremely messy hair, his wrinkled robes, the bags under his eyes, and the contemplative frown that marred his features. It looked like someone had been brooding all night long. But what about?
Buffy shut the door, closed and locked all the windows, and placed a silencing charm around the classroom, like she did at the start of every class.
"We've been studying Vampires and different types of Demons lately. Now, we'll learn about the Vampire Slayer," Buffy said. She was a little uneasy about bringing up this topic seeing as how Hermione was so sharp. Buffy was afraid someone would figure it out, but it was unlikely. She didn't go patrolling and she hadn't really shown her strength, so she didn't have too much to worry about.
Her announcement was met with a bunch of snickers and disbelieving looks.
"What?" she asked.
"The Slayer is a myth," Seamus said, murmurs of agreement coming from the rest of the class. "Why do we have to learn about myths in D? Isn't that what History of Magic is for?"
"Myths and legends are basically the same thing," Hermione spoke up from the front. "They are stories told, passed down through the generations, based once upon a time, on fact. There is some evidence of Slayers being real, stories of girls that have battled great monsters," Hermione said.
"Yeah, there's also stories of Bigfoot but that doesn't make it true," Dean said, the muggle reference lost on most everyone.
"I mean, really, Hermione," Ron said. "Girls battling demons? Yeah, right." Every girl turned to glare at Ron, Hermione included, and Ron decided to retract his comment somewhat. "I mean, it wasn't too long ago that women were still considered inferior to men." This didn't help much and he began to blush. "Of course, now we know that women are equal, and in some cases... most cases... all cases... are better than men." Now all the guys in the room were glaring at Ron.
"Just shut up, mate," Harry advised, saying the first thing since Dumbledore's talk the night before.
Ron groaned and slid down in his seat.
"Back to Vampire Slayers, since Miss Granger seems to know enough about them, why don't you inform the rest of the class just what the Slayer is," Buffy said.
"Into every generation a Slayer is born, one girl with the strength and skill to stop the vampires, the demons, and the forces of darkness. She has a watcher, which guides her and helps to train her. I'm afraid that's almost all I know. I've ran across a reference to the Slayer when I was researching for our essay on vampires, and there really wasn't too much about her.
"The wizarding world believes her to be a myth as they don't think a muggle would have the power to do anything. And it's absurd that the Slayer is a witch, because the amount of power she would have is too much for a normal person to handle; that amount of energy would collapse the human body and destroy the mind. Most people believe that the alleged Slayer is just a witch that tricks people, mainly muggles, into thinking she's not using any magic."
'"Very good," Buffy said. "Twenty points to Gryffindor. Now, the question is, do you believe in her? Anyone?" Buffy asked, addressing the class.
Most were hesitant, and only a couple raised their hands in a so-so manner.
"Do you?" Neville asked, causing Buffy to give a small smile.
"Yes. I mean, given what we've talked about already, it seems perfectly reasonable. Remember, a long time ago the world was full of pure Demons, and they were all driven away. The last one mixed its blood and created a vampire. Now this was ages and ages and ages ago. Don't you think that without a Vampire Slayer, the world as we know it would be destroyed, or at least overrun by vampires?"
"The witches and wizards of the world are what control the vampire and demon population from getting out of control," Parvati said. "I mean, one person couldn't have made that much of a difference."
Her words caused Buffy to raise an eyebrow at her. "One person makes all the difference," Buffy said seriously.
"But all those vampires," Lavender said, speaking up for her friend, "and demons. There's only one at a time; imagine how many she'd have to kill. It's impossible."
"Hundreds and hundreds, I'm sure," Buffy said. "Besides, I doubt that The Slayer is the only one in the entire world fighting the forces of darkness, but I bet she plays a key role in keeping the world from going to hell."
"Oh, so now the world's going to be destroyed?" Parvati scoffed.
"Why not?" Buffy asked with a shrug. "I mean, the demons don't like all the humans around; I'm fairly certain most of them would just like to send the world to hell, killing and torturing every last human being, letting the world become overrun by demons like it once used to. Way. Back. Then."
Still the class looked at her in disbelief.
"Okay, we'll take an example. You still don't think one person can make a difference? What about Voldemort?" Buffy asked, and was relatively surprised when almost the whole class flinched. "What?" she asked, confused.
"You said his name," Lavender whispered.
"So?" Buffy asked, confused. "Why wouldn't I say it? What else am I supposed to call him?"
"He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named," someone whispered.
"You-Know-Who," another one said.
"You have got to be kidding me," Buffy said, rolling her eyes. "You're afraid of a name?"
By this time, Harry was paying rapt attention to the professor, and the rest of the class' reactions.
"It's a name. Your name is Lavender, your name is Parvati, yours is Hermione, yours is Ron, yours is Neville, yours is Seamus," Buffy said. "It's a name."
"But you're supposed to fear him," Lavender whispered. "You can't just say his name."
"Why not?" Buffy asked again. No one answered so Buffy continued. "Is he gonna hear and come running? I thought he was defeated fifteen years ago, anyway. And you still don't say his name? You people have some serious issues.
"Just by saying his name, he's not going to rise from the dead, he's not going to come rushing in here to kill all of you, he's not going to magically appear and be really pissed off because someone said his name. Look, if you're afraid of his name, I can't even imagine how scared you are of him. He's only human. Even if he did manage to make himself immortal somehow, all you have to do is chop off his head. That'll kill him real quick.
"We cannot go any farther in this lesson until all of you say his name nice and loud. Fear of a name only increases the fear of the thing itself. If you fear it, it's very difficult to fight it. Overcome your fears and you'll be much better off."
Harry stared at the professor, wondering if she knew her words echoed ones that were told to him when he was a first year student.
Slowly, one by one, the class began to say the name. Some stuttered it out very quietly, but Buffy quickly put a sonorous charm on the whole class, causing their voices to magnify greatly. Lots of people jumped, others were shaking slightly, and still others were very unsure. Only Harry said it without any waver in his voice, earning fifty points to Gryffindor.
"Now, all together now, nice and loud," Buffy whispered. "One, two, three..."
"VOLDEMORT!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, causing several students to fall backwards. Everyone stood still, as if waiting for someone to come crashing through the walls to kill them all. When no one did, they all looked at Buffy's triumphant 'I told you so' look, and they began to relax. Pretty soon they were all saying it with very little flinching, their legendary Gryffindor bravery shining through.
"Good, good," Buffy said, making their voices normal again. "Now back to the lesson. One person can make a difference. Voldemort, for example, killed hundreds of people. He got himself followers, Death Eaters, each of which carried a high death count too. They destroyed families and took lives. All because one person decided he thought he was all-powerful and people should bow down before him. He got a big head, just like Hitler did during WWII and the evil wizard Grindelwald.
"Most of the horrible things in history happened because one person stepped up and took over. Everyone else was too scared to step up and face the enemy, too scared even to say a name," Buffy said, satisfied when most of the class looked sheepish. "All it takes is one person to step up to the challenge and defend what they believe in. If someone had said no to Hitler at the beginning, and fought him in the correct manner, instead of following blindly, things could have been different. Fear induces paralysis and people become sheep.
"If one person can do that much damage, shouldn't the opposite be true? With enough followers, one person can also make a difference. Individually, people are smart, logical human beings, but all together, they're stupid and scared. They want a leader, someone to show them what to do. That's how the evil is fought. One person steps up and says "No." One person challenges the wizard or the person. If the battle is large enough, that one person takes another person. And another. And another. Until that one person has enough people to win.
"One person can make all the difference," Buffy said, looking straight at Harry as she finished.
The class looked at Professor Fox, absorbing all this information she had presented them with, and they actually felt ashamed for the behavior of past generations. She was right; people were sheep. Before anyone could say another word, the class was over, and they filed out the door, still too lost in thought to speak.