A/N: Thank you for the lovely reviews!
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Chapter 2
Sirius was pacing in Dumbledore's office. He had fought Dumbledore tooth and nail, but the old man had insisted that he talk to Sirius before he said anything to Harry. Feeling unusually generous, he had agreed to talk to Dumbledore first. However, there was no way that Dumbledore would convince him that Harry didn't need to know about the prophecy.
He huffed angrily. The boy was fourteen and had seen and done things that most adults couldn't even fathom. The least he deserved was to know why he went through those things. Though Lily and James had never discussed when to tell Harry about the prophecy, he knew that if he had gone through everything he had and they were still alive, he would already know about it. He couldn't see why, after what had happened last night, Dumbledore didn't deem it necessary to tell Harry the truth.
Dumbledore walked into his office and sat down behind his desk before giving Sirius a stern look.
"You caused quite the uproar in the Hospital Wing, Sirius," he said, pressing the tips of his fingers together as he peered at him over his half-moon glasses.
Sirius looked at him and tried not to squirm. That was the look Dumbledore gave him and James whenever the two got into enough trouble to warrant a visit to the Headmaster's office. But then Harry's confused face swam into his vision, and he squared his shoulders and looked at Dumbledore unapologetically.
"Harry has the right to know, and you can't have any reasonable excuse to not tell him," said Sirius. "He is not a child, and he lost the rest of his innocence last night after watching that Diggory boy die."
"He does not need that burden on him, Sirius," said Dumbledore wearily. "He has already been through so much, and I cannot bring myself to harm him further."
"You're harming him already!" exclaimed Sirius angrily.
"I beg your pardon?" he said, a slight edge in his tone.
"Knowledge is power, Albus!" cried Sirius, a note of desperation creeping into his voice. "Voldemort is after Harry, whether you or I or anyone else likes it. I cannot and will not allow Harry to face him unprepared. With a body, Voldemort will stop at nothing to get to Harry, and he won't survive unless he knows the truth."
"Sirius, please calm down," said Dumbledore. "Do you really want to burden him further with this information?"
"Of course, I don't want to!" said Sirius, looking at Dumbledore as though he had lost his mind. "I want him to be a normal fourteen-year-old! I want to receive letters from you or McGonagall about his detentions and the things he's done to deserve them. I want him to write to me about the adventures — the normal, simple adventures — that he and his friends had and how he got away with them. I want him to write to me about his Quidditch games, about girl problems, about the pranks he's pulled.
"But we can't do that, not really. I'm a fugitive and he has a target on his head. And so my job is to protect him. Maybe there will be a time when I can do all of those things with Harry. But right now, I need to help him, prepare him. And lying to him isn't the way to do it."
Dumbledore looked at him sadly, and Sirius himself felt sorrow when he had admitted all of these things. Sirius wanted nothing more than a normal life with Harry, and a childish part of him wanted to be able to simply sit back and agree with Dumbledore, just as he had when he was a student. But another part of him, the part that wanted to protect Harry, knew that he was doing the right thing in arguing with Dumbledore over this.
Sirius sighed and flopped down onto a chair across from Dumbledore's desk, putting his head in his hands miserably.
"There is nothing that you can say or do to stop me from telling Harry about the prophecy," said Sirius quietly. "James and Lily told me the contents of it, and I can never forget those words. You're either with me on this, Dumbledore, or I have reached a parting of ways with you the same way Fudge has."
Harry and Ron stared at Hermione in awe, and she blushed at the looks they gave her. Dumbledore and Sirius had left the Hospital Wing a while ago, and Hermione had explained to them what she discovered about Rita Skeeter.
"It was actually you, Harry, who gave me the idea," she explained as she showed them the jar where she kept her. "You mentioned bugging, and then I remembered Viktor pulling that water beetle out of my hair after the Second Task. So I checked the Animagus Registry and saw she wasn't there. It's the only thing that makes sense."
"You're brilliant," said Ron and Harry together.
"Hermione, dear," began Mrs. Weasley, but Harry could see her lips twitching, "do you really think this is a good idea?"
"Oh, I'll let her out in London after a little deal," said Hermione, smiling broadly.
Harry chuckled.
"Actually, there was something I was hoping you'd agree to, Harry," she said, but Harry could hear the nervous note in her voice. "I've been thinking about it since Fudge refused to listen to Dumbledore."
Harry frowned. "He's being an idiot."
"Yes, he is," said Hermione. "And he's putting people into danger. But the thing is, he hasn't gone to The Prophet yet…"
Harry's stomach filled with dread. "I know you, Hermione. You want me to tell my story, don't you?"
"It could save a lot of lives," she said quietly. "And I think people should know the truth about what happened to Cedric."
Harry sighed and avoided her eyes. "I don't know if I can tell my story again, Hermione," he whispered. "I just don't know if I'm ready."
She nodded and smiled understandingly at him. "Just think about it. We'll all leave for the summer soon, and who knows what Fudge will do."
He nodded and looked at the beetle form of Rita Skeeter. She was trying to climb up the sides of the jar to escape, and Harry had to admit that he enjoyed watching her struggle. After the hell he had put him and others through during the year, there was a kind of poetic justice to her being stuck in a jar, unable to hear what was going on.
"What do you reckon Sirius meant?" asked Ron abruptly. Harry and Hermione looked at him. "About a prophecy, I mean."
"I don't know," said Harry, sighing. "My potion wore off, and I didn't really want to go back to sleep. So Sirius and I just talked. I mentioned that I wished I knew why Voldemort was after me, and he looked surprised that I didn't know about the prophecy, whatever it is. And then Dumbledore interrupted."
Hermione scoffed. "I doubt there is a prophecy," she said.
"Hermione, just because Trelawney is a fraud doesn't mean that there haven't been real Seers," argued Ron.
"And do you really think that Sirius would lie to me about my past?" asked Harry, raising an eyebrow at her.
She blushed. "You're right, I'm sorry. It's just hard to believe, that's all. Prophecies are wooly business, you should know that after last year."
Harry nodded.
"Well, if Professor Dumbledore doesn't want you to know, Harry dear, then perhaps you shouldn't," said Mrs. Weasley gently. "I don't doubt he simply wants to protect you."
Harry shrugged at this. "I'd rather know the truth, Mrs. Weasley. After last night, there isn't really anything someone could say or do that would surprise me," he said.
"You put too much on yourself, Harry," she said kindly. "You're still young; enjoy it while it lasts."
Harry simply shrugged again.
She sighed and stood. "I have to go. Get some rest, Harry, and listen to Black. The boy's death really wasn't your fault," she said, giving him a hug. She gave Ron and Hermione a hug as well and waved in farewell as she Flooed home.
They sat in silence for a while after she left. He knew she only wanted what was best for him, but he knew himself better than Mrs. Weasley knew him. Maybe the truth was horrible, but it was a lot better than wondering and not knowing anything.
At this thought, he looked at Hermione. "I'll do it," he said firmly. Determination filled his veins and spread through his body like fire. "I'll tell the world what happened last night, before Fudge can make up some story about a raving lunatic disguising himself at Hogwarts and pretending that he was acting on Voldemort's orders."
Hermione beamed at him. "I think Rita here would be a good story teller, with a few restrictions, of course."
They smirked as she moved to let her out of the jar.
When she transformed, they Disarmed her before she could get her bearings and pointed their wands her, preventing her from leaving.
"How dare you?" she shrieked angrily. Harry rather thought she sounded like a banshee.
"Now, now, Rita, be nice," said Hermione sweetly. "You wouldn't want to find yourself in that jar again, would you? And besides, I know you're unregistered. You don't really have a bargaining chip here."
She glared at the three of them, but they were unmoved.
"What do you want?" she snapped, crossing her arms and tapping her foot.
"For you to tell last night's story," said Harry simply. She blinked at them, but then her eyes glittered at the possibility. Harry raised his hand as she opened her mouth. "Not so fast. You're going to write the truth, Rita, exactly as I tell it. You will not spin tales, you will not make up quotes."
"The readers —"
"— are curious about last night's winner," said Hermione fiercely. "I doubt Fudge has gone to The Prophet yet. Here's your chance at giving everyone an exclusive interview with the most popular champion. We want to see the article before you take it to The Prophet, and if you change it after we approve, I'll go straight to the Ministry. I'm sure an inside scoop of Azkaban would be well received." Rita paled. "Furthermore, you will write a note to the readers saying that your previous articles about Harry's 'funny turns' were untrue. You heard the rumor from one of Harry's classmates, and it turned out that said classmate was no friend of Harry's."
"But they are true! I witnessed it!" she cried angrily.
"You don't know what you witnessed!" snapped Harry. "And don't forget, you witnessed me collapsing illegally, and I have no qualms in exposing you."
"And the Parseltongue?" she asked, now curious.
"I'll explain that," said Harry, rolling his eyes. "As long as you write the truth and nothing more, I'll explain. Besides, the truth is so incredible that I doubt you'd want to make things up anyway."
Rita's eyes glittered again. "We have a deal. Let's begin then."
Sirius trotted alongside Dumbledore as they headed back to the Hospital Wing. People were coming down for breakfast, and a few students pointed at him as he passed them. He leapt at group of young girls playfully, and they squealed when he licked their hands and barked happily.
Dumbledore stopped and turned to him, amusement in his eyes. "Snuffles, do come along," he said. He chuckled as Sirius barked again and followed him.
They soon entered the Hospital Wing, and he was surprised to see Harry talking to Rita Skeeter. Ron and Hermione were on either side of him, eyeing her as if they knew something, and Molly had disappeared. He figured she went home. Curiosity filled him as he approached him and placed his muzzle on Harry's thigh.
"It's okay," he said quietly as he patted his head. "I know what I'm doing."
Sirius nuzzled his hand and lay down at Harry's feet. With horror and pride, he realized Harry was telling her what had happened the night before. He whined a little and leapt onto the bed, laying across Hermione's legs and nuzzling her hands. Harry was telling Dumbledore what was going on, and Sirius saw him nod and pull up a chair.
"It's okay, Snuffles," she whispered so only he could hear. "I've got something on her so that she will only write the truth…unless she wants to give her readers a view of Azkaban through her eyes."
Sirius stilled, trying not to laugh at the explanation. Blackmail? It didn't seem like Hermione's style, but her eyes twinkled with triumph as she watched Skeeter.
"But how did that happen?" asked Skeeter excitedly. "How could your wands connect like that?"
Sirius sat up and barked a few times. Harry couldn't tell her that. It would give Voldemort information he certainly didn't need.
Harry turned to him with raised eyebrows. "Calm down, Snuffles, I'll take you outside in a bit."
He barked a few more times for effect, but he grinned inwardly as Harry told Skeeter that he wished he knew how it had happened so that he could prevent it. Ten minutes later, Harry finished telling his story and Rita stared at him in silence, eyes wide and slightly pale.
She cleared her throat. "And why should our readers believe you, Harry?" she asked.
"Because, Ms. Skeeter, it is the truth," said Harry quietly. But there was something in his voice, something strong and determined, that showed that though Harry was only fourteen, he was beyond his years. "Cedric was a friend. I didn't know him well, but I was getting to know him, and his life was snuffed out simply because he was at the wrong place at the wrong time. I would not dishonor him by lying about his death.
"And I wouldn't lie about Voldemort's return. Why would I? I am famous for something I don't remember. All I remember from that night is my father telling my mother to take me and run, and my mother's pleas to Voldemort, begging him to kill her instead of me. And I remember his laugh and a flash of green light.
"I am famous simply because Voldemort was able to kill my parents and he wasn't able to kill me. I ask you and everyone who ever looked at me like I was some sort of hero: Who wants to be famous for that? Don't you think that I'd rather it never happened? Don't you think I would have preferred to grow up knowing my parents?"
Sirius jumped off the bed and settled at Harry's feet again. He wanted more than anything to be able to transform and to comfort Harry, but there was no way he could do it in front of Rita Skeeter. Harry bent down and began to pet him, sadness in his eyes. Skeeter was silent, but after a while, she cleared her throat.
"You are right. This is better than any story that I can make up," she said awkwardly. Then she grinned rather maliciously. "Tell me, do you mind if I report of Fudge's reaction when you told him the truth? The public has the right to know how their leader is reacting to news of this importance."
"As long as you tell the truth, I don't care," said Harry, shrugging carelessly. "Don't overdramatize it either. I don't need enemies at the Ministry."
"Excellent, I'll get to work," she said, eyes glittering again.
"You can do so here," said Dumbledore graciously. "I'm sure Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger can keep you company. Harry, however, will follow me. I wish to speak to him."
"Am I in trouble, sir?" he asked, getting up.
"Not at all, my dear boy," said Dumbledore, smiling sadly. "Rather, there is something I wish to explain to you that I should have explained long ago."
"Don't even think about it, Rita," snapped Hermione, glaring at her when the woman opened her mouth to ask. "You've gotten more out of Harry than any reporter ever will; you'll be satisfied and grateful with what you have."
She glared at Hermione while Harry chuckled under his breath. Sirius grinned inwardly again as Skeeter returned to her work. He nudged Harry a little, who followed Dumbledore to Madame Pomfrey's office.
Sirius sincerely hoped that he was doing the right thing.
A/N: That's it for now. I know you guys wanted to hear the prophecy told, but one thing at a time. It will come next chapter, I promise.
I really wanted to explore what would happen if the Ministry was questioned earlier and people knew the truth. I've read a lot of stories, but I don't think I ever came across one where Harry tells his side before fifth year. I think it can create an interesting dynamic in the Wizarding world. But you let me know. Until next time.