CHAPTER 18: The Prophecy

Harry rushed up the spiral staircase behind the old gargoyle two at a time. He was running so fast that when he pushed open the headmaster's office door the momentum of his mad dash drove him straight into the man's table of whirling oddments. A few of them made noises of alarm as the table rattled.

"Harry!" Dumbledore exclaimed, "my goodness my dear boy are you alright? Is something the matter?" Harry tried to catch his breath but all he could do was pant. So he dug into his pocket and lifted the tiny vial. Dumbledores eyes winded. "My goodness!" then a smile bloomed, "well done my dear boy." he came forward and guided Harry into a chair.

"Shouldn't… we watch it… now?" Harry panted.

"I think you should catch your breath first." the old wizard said with a chuckle. "Where did you run from?"

"Hagrid's." Harry wheezed. Dumbledores eyebrows skyrocketed.

"My goodness! You are exceedingly fit to still be breathing at all young Harry! A lesser man would have toppled on the third floor and be given no shame!" Harry laughed then coughed as that took up more breath than he really had to spare. "May I have a glass of water?" Dumbledore called to the room. A tall goblet appeared. Harry didn't even wait for the man to pass it to him. He snatched it up from the table and down in a few long deep gulps. Then he sighed and took a few deep breaths. Dumbledore chuckled and leaned against the table with his hands folded patiently. Finally, when Harry's breath was a little more stable, he stood.

"Let's watch this thing." Harry declared. Then he scowled "it had better be worth all the effort."

"Trust me, my dear boy," Dumbledore said as the pensieve floated between them and he pour the oh-so-precious memory into it. "I have every confidence it will be." with that, the pair plunged into the memory.

As soon as they exited the pensieve Dumbledore took a few steps back and began to pace. Harry stumbled into the table and perched on it while he rubbed the lower half of his face in distress.

"That was…"

"I believe the phrase you are looking for is 'messed up.'" Dumbledore supplied thoughtfully. Harry blinked at him in shock. Then Dumbledore smiled, something Harry was honestly amazed he could still do. " I am not completely ignorant of modern slang Harry."

"Right," Harry said. "But you're right… that was very very messed up." he paused, "you… you don't think he actually did it do you?"

"I most definitely think he did," Dumbledore replied before he suddenly moved with uncanny speed to his desk. Harry followed him. Then Dumbledore dropped a very familiar, though mutilated, book on its surface.

"Tom Riddle's diary…" Harry began, "a Horcrux?!"

"It seems to be the most likely possibility," Dumbledore said. "After all, can you think of another magical artifact with such properties? Able to influence and possess a living being through proximity? Able to force others to see that which it wishes them to see?" Harry blinked as Dumbledore said that. He'd never told the man about the diary showing him that vision. "And then there is the way you described tom riddle's destruction."

"You mean when I stabbed the book with the fang?" Harry questioned. The old man nodded as he lifted the book and gazed through the gnarled hole to Harry.

"Basilisk venom. It is one of the most powerful destructive forces in the wizarding world. It seems highly likely that it may well be one of the few things capable of destroying such powerful magic."

"Okay… so… does that mean that this is moot?" Harry asked hopefully. But somehow he knew in his heart that was wrong.

"You heard young Tom," Dumbledore said with a stern look at the diary.

"You… you really think he did it?" Harry asked in horror, "spilt his soul into seven pieces?"

"Most definitely," Dumbledore said. "In fact, I have proof of at least one more. And I suspect in showing it to you you'll be able to interpret a few others." Then he dug into his drawer and pulled out a very familiar ring. Harry gaped.

"Marvolo's ring!" Harry cried, "that's where it went!"

"Indeed," Dumbledore said. Harry looked between the ring and Dumbledore's hand and suddenly paled.

"That," he pointed at the ring, "did THAT?!" Dumbledore looked down at his hand.

"Yes. In my excitement in finally confirming my hypothesis I rather threw caution to the wind. I was foolish to think that Tom wouldn't defend his very soul with every spell in his rather diabolical arsenal."

"No kidding," Harry said. Then slowly the full extent of what this all implied settled around him. "So… that means there are still four more Horcruxes hidden somewhere? Protected by all sorts of evil spells and traps that could probably kill someone in seconds?"

"I'm afraid so my boy." Harry stared at the man in horror.

"But they could be anywhere!"

"Unfortunately."

"Do we even know what they could be?!"

"I think the memories answered that didn't they?" Dumbledore questioned. Harry blinked.

"You mean… the cup and the necklace?"

"Yes, I do believe those are objects which Tom would want to turn into vessels of his soul. Remember Harry that Tom was once much like yourself. He considered Hogwarts to be his true home. Eventually, his fixation grew to desiring the castle for himself. I think it no stretch of the imagination that he would cement this claim by binding his soul to such sacred Hogwarts objects."

"So Hufflepuff's cup, Slytherin's locket, and Ravenclaw's…"

"Ah… yes well that is where we hit a wall," Dumbledore admitted. "I know of an object sacred to Ravenclaw, but it was lost in the 900th century. And I am uncertain if Tom was able to discover its location."

"So… you're just guessing?" Harry said in desperation. Dumbledore sighed.

"When one lacks proof an educated guess is better than nothing."

"That's easy for you to say!" Harry snapped, "the bastard hasn't been after you since you were an infant!" for a few moments he silently fumed until finally, it boiled over. But instead of raging, he felt so incredibly drained. "Why me?" Harry suddenly groaned desperately. Normally he wouldn't indulge in such blatant self-pity but this was insane! Now he had to kill Voldemort five times?! "Why is it always me?! Why do I have to do this?! Why cant he ruin someone else's life for once?!" Harry complained. Dumbledore looked at him with a nebulous expression. Then he waved a hand and the pensieve glided through the air and landed on his desk. Harry sat up and watched as Dumbledore drew a memory from his own head and flicked it into the magic bowl. Then he waved his hand again. Harry jumped back as a small figure rose up from the surface. She was oddly familiar, wrapped in shawls and squinting ahead as she sat on the slightly rickety stool.

"Well, I shall have to think about it, Ms. Trelawney." Dumbledore's voice issued from the bowl. Harry gapped. She looked so different!

"I can do a card reading for you!" she cried, looking a little desperate, "perhaps tea le-" then suddenly the woman stilled. Her eyes opened wider, but they were glassy.

"I don't think that would be ness- Ms. Trelawney?" Dumbledore's voice began with an air of disappointment before growing concerned. Then the apparition took a slow raggedy breath in and began to speak.

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.

she recited this with the same raspy gravelly voice Harry recognized from his third year. Each line filled Harry with a growing coldness until, when at last she finished her third recitation and sunk back into the pensieve's smooth surface, Harry was completely numb. He sat in that cold empty feeling for some time.

"Harry." Dumbledore began before he made his way around his desk and placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. The teen just stared forward.

"So that's why." he finally choked out. "Because I'm the only one that can kill him… if I don't die first." Dumbledore sighed heavily at Harry's broken face. Then Harry's face hardened and he turned to Dumbledore with a look of betrayal. "You knew! This whole time you knew! And you never told me."

"When would you have had me tell you, Harry?" Dumbledore asked truthfully. "There have been many times over the years when I could have. In your first year, when you had asked how it was your very touch could destroy Voldemort. Or perhaps in your second year, when you came to me covered in your life's own blood having defeated him a second time. Perhaps in your fourth year, When you could barely walk from the shock and trauma of losing a fellow classmate. Or last year, when Voldemort had left you so shaken to the core that light and sound caused you physical pain." Dumbledore sighed again. "Every time I knew it would be right to tell you, I convinced myself a better time would arrive. First, you were too young, then you were too innocent, then you were too damaged…" the man sat into his chair looking far more than his age. "I have known since the moment I held you for the first time. But with each year I came to love you more and more. Yes, love. That is what stayed my hand. You are like a grandson to me, dear Harry. If it were up to me, this would not be your destiny. I would have you be young and carefree forever." He looked down at his hands before lifting his damaged one. At once Harry could see the pain in the man's eyes. He lowered it again and tears began to pool in the ancient wizard's eyes. "I am truly sorry Harry. For everything. For your parents, for your uncle, for your trials. For everything." Dumbledore finished. Then the tears began to flow and he raised a shaky hand to his face. Harry slowly stood as the man wept and came around to place a hand on the man's shoulder. Dumbledore moved to grasp it even as he continued to silently cry. After a few moments, he let out a great heaving sigh. "I apologize. I am not the one who should be weeping. You have suffered far more than I."

"It's alright," Harry muttered. Dumbledore chuckled.

"You're aunt is right you know. You are truly ignorant of how unbelievably self-sacrificing you can be."

"Why does everyone always say that?"

"Perhaps because there is some truth to it?" Dumbledore offered with his twinkle finally returning. Harry was infinitely happy when he saw that little sparkle. Watching Dumbledore completely break down had been a little terrifying. The man was usually so stoically cheerful. Nothing could shake his kind smile. Or so Harry had thought. "So...what now my dear boy?"

"Huh?"

"What will you do? Now that you know the truth?"

"I… well I guess nothing has changed." Harry admitted with a shrug, "Voldemort isn't gonna stop coming after me. He never has. And I mean now it honestly makes sense why he would. Well… not sense. I mean what person takes stock of ANYTHING Trelawney would say at a job interview?! I mean come on." It worked. Dumbledore threw his head back and laughed. It made Harry smile in earnest. When next Dumbledore wiped away his tears, they were of mirth, not sadness.

"My dear dear Harry. You are truly a remarkable young man."

"Thanks."

Harry didn't say anything as he led Susan towards the room of requirement. She tried to pepper him with more details at first. But Harry's stonefaced resolve had eventually led to this somewhat pinched and awkward silence. She did, however, glance at him with intense worry. When they finally reached the room of requirement he recalled the same phrase he'd thought the first two times he'd come here.

I need to tell my friends something terrible

The lounge was perfect really. Warmed by a roaring fire, with a thickly carpeted floor and squishy couches. There were a few stress balls and even a punching bag in one corner. Harry thought the room of requirement knew Ron pretty well. The bookshelves also showed a keen understanding of Hermione.

"Bloody hell you too!" Ron cried in alarm, "shit mate please tell us what's happening!" Susan looked very distressed as she looked between Sirius, Hermione, Anthony and Ron then back to Harry.

"Please if you'll all just sit down." Harry said tiredly "I'll tell you. But you need to sit. And just… let me finish okay? Cause… it's a lot." he admitted with a tired sigh.

"Whatever it is mate, we'll help you out," Anthony promised, pointedly ignoring Ron's indignant scoff at his use of the word mate. Sirius stepped forward looking intensely worried.

"Do I need to call Dr. Emmeline and haul you back to Surrey?" He demanded.

"No." Harry said firmly, "please just sit down and I'll explain." But after everyone had sat he found words dying in his throat. "I… I don't know where to start."

"The beginning." Susan declared. Harry blinked.

The beginning?

Did he really need to go back that far?

"Sirius," he began slowly "did you ever wonder why it was Voldemort came after my parents? Not generally but them specifically?"

"Well…" Sirius began before frowning. His face betrayed that he'd never really thought to question it.

"Could there be a reason?" Hermione demanded. "The man is a sociopathic megalomaniac. He doesn't need a reason to go after people."

"But there was a reason," Harry said quietly. The room was a bit stunned. "Because he wasn't going after my parents… he was going after me."

"You?!" Sirius cried in alarm, "Harry how many times do I have to tell you that what happened to your parents wasn't your fault! You were 1! What could we have possibly done to cause your parents' death?!"

"Be born at the end of July," Harry muttered with a sardonic snort. He'd thought the man would read the full context, but his eyes just filled with horror and sadness.

"I'm calling Dr. Emmeline." He insisted as he pulled out the mobile that would be useless until he was out of Hogwarts' wards.

"No, you don't understand." Harry huffed, "I meant that literally. If I had been born even a week later, none of this would have happened."

"What are you talking about?!" Sirius demanded.

"I… I need to start again." Harry said in exasperation. This conversation had completely derailed. After a deep breath, he thought for a better opener, "you guys know Trelawney yeah?"

"Of course we bloody know Trelawney mate!" Ron cried, "she's only been saying you gonna die since we were thirteen!"

"Longer actually," Harry muttered under his breath. Then louder, "Well it turns out… she's not a hack."

"What do you mean?" Susan asked.

"She actually can see the future."

"Wait for real?" Ron asked in shock, "you're serious?"

"You really need to get your eyes checked, he's literally right behind you mate." Harry joked, trying to relax the still extremely tense animagus. It didn't work.

"This is no time for humour Harry." His godfather growled, "I'm still trying to hash out where you are mentally." Harry huffed.

"A prophecy." Susan suddenly declared. The room fell silent and turned to the blond girl with shocked faces. "That's what you were talking about before, wasn't it. The reason why you wanted to be born later… Trelawney delivered a prophecy about you." Harry smiled. He forgot how smart Susan could be when she finally had all the facts.

"What's it say?" Anthony asked quietly, "if you don't mind sharing." Harry nodded before he slowly recited the prophecy. As he finish the room was in stunned silence. Then slowly Hermione's lip wobbled and she began to speak frantically.

"W-well." She began, "There are obviously many different interpretations. Born as the seventh month dies, obviously someone born around the end of the month of July. Born to those who thrice defied him. It could be someone people who fought against him, or refused to fight for him, or fought for him but then betrayed or or-" she got up and began pacing the shelves frantically. "The power the dark lord knows not, well that could be anything! Mark him as his equal-" she cut herself off and her eyes trailed up to Harry's forehead. Her lips wobbled further, "n-n-neither can-" then she buried her face in her hand and sobbed. Anthony jumped up and wrapped her up in his arms and rubbed her back comfortingly. Suddenly there was a crash. Sirius had punched the bag in a rage. Harry was a bit stunned that Sirius would need it.

"Voldemort doesn't know the whole prophecy." Susan suddenly declared.

"What?" Harry questioned, "how do you figure?"

"Because the death eaters broke into the Hall of prophecies" Susan reminded quietly.

"What is the hall of prophecies anyway?" Ron asked in confusion. "Like what's its purpose?"

"It keeps an audio record of the first time a prophecy is delivered. And I mean every prophecy.' she clarified, "mum used to say there were prophecies by merlin buried somewhere in that room."

"Wow…" Harry remarked bitterly, "so the snake faces bastard literally came after me on half an idea that I might be able to kill him? Guess you were bloody right Hermione. The old bastard didn't need an actual reason." he said glumly before he sat on the couch with Susan with a sigh. Susan immediately grabbed his hand. The room was silent, save Hermione's quiet muffled sobs.

"Bloody hell." Ron muttered finally, "though… I guess it doesn't really change things."

"What do you mean?!" Hermione cried in horror, "this c-changes everything!"

"No, it doesn't." Ron argued, "I mean the old snake bastard was gonna keep on trying to kill Harry anyway, based on the bit of the prophecy he did hear yeah? Now we know why. Knowing why doesn't stop the fact that he's still gonna come after Harry no matter what. Does make everything else make more sense with context though. The weird thing with Quirrell in first year. The ritual at the end of the Triwizard tournament. The seizure he had during the O.W.L.s." Ron listed with his fingers. Harry nodded. Ron also tended to do better when he had all the information at his disposal. He was a great strategist and could be pretty pragmatic when he had to be. The punching hadn't been for Ron after all.

"I… I suppose you're right." Hermione finally admitted as she and Anthony went back to the couch. Then Sirius came and sat on Harry's left.

"A bloody prophecy," he muttered with a twinge of rage still simmering in the background. "This all started because of a blood prophecy from a drunk old hack."

"Not a hack." Harry reminded with a chuckle. Sirius huffed and rubbed his face. "But Ron's right. Knowing why doesn't change what's going to happen…" then he remembered the other thing he had to tell his friends. He groaned. "Alright stay sitting cause there's more."

"Bloody hell there's more?!" Sirius cried in horror, "Harry what could be worse than that?!"

"Oh trust me," he said with tired eyes,

"There are way worse things than death."

A/N: HELLO!

Happy Saturday!

I'm shooting this off very quickly before heading to work. I look forward to reading all your lovely comments during my breaks! ;)

Rori Potter & ILoveGeorgeEads: Thanks!

I hope you're all excited!

There are only three chapters left...

(and they're each gonna be a doozy!)

Don't forget to keep on reading!

-TTC