A/N: Thanks for the lovely reviews, you guys! And thanks to those who have followed and favorite the story! :)

One note, I think that spectators somehow got to see into the maze. It would be really boring to just look at a bunch of bushes, regardless of what the movie showed. And if it didn't…well, in my story they saw what happened in the maze.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Chapter 3

Harry followed Dumbledore to his office, trying not to fidget. Sirius nudged his hand as they walked, and Harry sent him a tight smile. There were few people in the halls, but every one of them were staring at him and whispering. Some even pointed. He avoided their gazes and simply looked at Dumbledore's back as he led the way.

"He came back with Diggory's dead body…"

"What do you think happened when they disappeared…?"

"You don't reckon Potter did anything to him, do you?"

"Don't be ridiculous…he couldn't have…could he?"

Harry stopped at this and glared at the boy who assumed he killed Cedric.

"You honestly think I would kill Cedric?" snapped Harry.

"I…I…that is to say —" the boy stammered, flushing slightly. Harry noticed that he was a Hufflepuff, no older than a first year.

Harry sighed. "I didn't do anything to him. And you'll know what happened in a day or two."

The boy's eyes widened. "We will?" he asked, incredulous.

Harry nodded and continued to follow Dumbledore, shaking slightly. Is that what people thought? That he killed Cedric?

Before he knew it, Dumbledore was giving the gargoyle guarding his office the password and soon he was sitting in a chair across from Dumbledore's desk with Sirius to the left of him. He was no longer surrounded by the whispers, but he couldn't push them out of his mind. You don't reckon Potter did anything to him, do you?

He looked around the office, and he noticed it hadn't changed since the last time he had been in there. The silver instruments still whizzed and puffed smoke, and the portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses still pretended to sleep in their frames. The only thing missing was Fawkes.

"Fawkes is delivering messages for me," said Dumbledore, following Harry's gaze. "I do apologize for the whispers in the corridors on our way here. I haven't had a chance to speak to the school yet."

Harry shrugged. "Hardly your fault, sir," he replied.

"Harry," began Sirius, concerned, "don't think about what that boy said. You didn't kill Cedric."

Harry sighed and avoided Sirius's gaze. "You said as much last night," he replied quietly, his throat tightening. Harry swallowed loudly.

Sirius turned Harry's head toward him. "And I'll keep saying it until you believe it."

Harry nodded, smiling tightly. Telling his story to Rita Skeeter hadn't been easy, and the whispers and glares hadn't helped either. And now he was in Dumbledore's office, probably about to learn something about his past, and Harry felt like he was going to explode. It was all too much for one person to handle at once, but at the same time, he burned with curiosity. He had wondered why Voldemort had gone after him for three years, and it seemed like now he was going to get an answer.

"You said you wanted to tell me something, sir?" asked Harry, looking up at Dumbledore.

"It is more that Sirius wishes to tell you, and I cannot convince him otherwise," he replied, looking weary. "Please know, Harry, that I am simply trying to protect you from the burden you will bear with this information. It is not that I do not trust you or that I do not think you equal to the information. Quite the contrary; you've proven yourself ten times over in your time at Hogwarts. Rather, I wish to spare you the pain of it.

"However, Sirius believes that you deserve the truth now rather than later. He believes that the knowledge you will gain in this can only protect you. I do not disagree with him. He has made his point well, and I can see I have erred in keeping the information from you."

Dumbledore intertwined his fingers and sat quietly staring at Harry with an unreadable expression, allowing Harry to gather his thoughts. Harry's mind was racing. Was it really that bad? He knew he was still processing everything from last night; could he handle knowing more? Especially if the story was so heavy?

He turned to Sirius. "How bad is it?" he asked, looking at him almost desperately.

Sirius winced. "I won't lie to you, it is pretty bad," he said, looking at Harry with a sorrow that he had never seen. "But I do think you have the right to know the truth. I think that while knowing could be a burden, it can also be an asset. It can prepare you for when Voldemort will come after you the next time, because you and I both know there will be a next time."

Harry nodded. "And this information…it's why he came after me in the first place?"

Sirius nodded.

"Then just tell me," said Harry firmly, finally sitting up straight. "I'd rather know the truth than be in the dark."

Dumbledore nodded. "Very well. It is quite a long story, so bear with me."

Harry nodded.

"Fourteen years ago, I went to the Hog's Head to meet an applicant for the Divination position. While I wasn't too willing to continue the class, I thought it common courtesy to meet with her, as she was the great-granddaughter of a celebrated Seer." Harry's eyes widened slightly, realizing who Dumbledore meant. "However, after interviewing her, I saw she possessed none of her ancestor's gift, so I turned to leave after telling her I did not think she was right for the post. Before I did, however, her demeanor changed." Harry sat up straighter. Her first prediction. "I am, of course, speaking of Professor Trelawney. You remember, last year, witnessing her second prophecy?" Harry nodded. "I witnessed her first. At the time, a Death Eater was listening at the door, but he was discovered by the barman and thrown out of the pub. However, he hastened to tell his master the part he did hear."

"Voldemort came after me because of half a prophecy?" Harry gasped.

Dumbledore nodded. He stood up and went to a cupboard, pulling out the Pensieve Harry had accidentally went into earlier in the year. He shook it and a figure rose out of it, draped in shawls, her eyes enlarged like an insect under a magnifying glass behind her glasses, and she turned slowly. Trelawney spoke, but it was not in her usual eerie, mystic voice, but in the harsh, hoarse tones Harry had heard her use the year before, just after his Divination final, just before he met Sirius and Pettigrew escaped:

"THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD APPROCHES…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…"

Harry was numb. He continued to look at the Pensive, even though the silver figure of Trelawney had already disappeared.

"Harry?" said Sirius gently. "Are you okay?"

Harry shook himself slightly.

"I…I don't know," said Harry. "What did that even mean?"

Sirius sighed. "It meant that a boy born at the end of July to parents who had escaped Voldemort three times would have the power to defeat Voldemort. That is the part the Death Eater overheard."

"And the rest?" asked Harry, as though in a daze.

"Well, the marking as his equal…that just means Voldemort singled you out as the one with the power to destroy him. The Longbottoms fulfilled the requirements as well," explained Sirius lightly. "And when Voldemort chose you, it became clear that you were the child of the prophecy and not Neville. You were chosen, thus you are his equal."

"But that's mad!" said Harry frantically. "I'm not his equal; I'm lucky to be alive! And I haven't got any powers that he hasn't got!"

"Yes, you do," interrupted Dumbledore. "You have the ability to love, and while that doesn't seem like much to you, it actually means everything."

"What?" said Harry, confused. "How can love possibly help me defeat him?"

"Love has already saved you," explained Dumbledore. "Your mother died to save you, thus instilling in you a protection that even Voldemort does not understand."

"But he has that protection now," said Harry desperately. "He used my blood to come back; he can touch me. He did touch me. It didn't hurt him like it did first year."

"That is true, he can touch you," said Dumbledore, almost sadly, Harry thought. "But I doubt it will help him in any other way. He took your blood in greed because he believed that your mother sacrificed herself to activate a spell on you and that it would help him too. But your mother was not thinking of spells and magic and the like when Voldemort came after you. She was thinking about you, because she loved you.

"Intent matters in magic, and Voldemort does not understand the extent of the protection your mother gave, nor will he ever. Voldemort does not value love, and that which he does not value, he does not take the trouble to comprehend. He does not understand that there are things in this world beyond his own power, and that is his weakness.

"You may think that you survived because you were lucky, and I have no doubt that Voldemort thinks so as well. But you have survived because you have the power to love. Love saved you when you were a baby. Love saved you when you were eleven. Love helps you produce your Patronus. It is your inability to see those you care about in pain or in danger that gives you your strength, Harry."

"But what about the last bit in the end?" asked Harry. "Does it mean that one of us will end up killing the other?"

"Yes," said Dumbledore quietly, "but only because he gave you the tools to do it. He killed your father, instilling in you a desperate desire for revenge. He forced your mother to die for you, giving you a protection that though he has, he does not understand and will never truly benefit from. Voldemort himself picked his worst enemy, just as tyrants everywhere tend to do.

"Many who go through terrible ordeals such as yours tend to follow Voldemort's path. It would be no surprise if you, who have suffered greatly, followed the same path," he finished, staring intently at him.

"What? He killed my parents!" exclaimed Harry angrily. "I would never go down his path!"

"Exactly! You don't focus on your suffering, but on those you care about! You are protected, in short, by your ability to love."

"But I still have to finish him," said Harry, unable to say the word 'kill', disgusted by the very idea.

"No, my dear boy, you don't have to do anything," said Dumbledore gently. "Voldemort will live by the prophecy because he fears that you can bring his death about, and if he fears anything at all, it is dying. You, on the other hand, are perfectly free to turn your back on the prophecy."

"But he'll hunt me down either way. So in the end, one of us will finish the other," said Harry, finally understanding. "But he'll do it because he's scared of me; I'll do it because I'm not."

Sirius smiled at him proudly. It was the difference between being dragged into an arena to fight to the death and walking in with your head held high. Some people didn't think it didn't make any difference, but Harry knew — Sirius knew and his parents knew — that it made all the difference in the world.

"So what happens now?" asked Harry, looking between Dumbledore and Sirius.

"Now, you rest," said Sirius, smiling at him. "Now you go spend time with your friends, and recover, and have fun. You've got time to think about the prophecy. For now, just enjoy the last few days of term."

"You're leaving, then?" asked Harry, a little sadly.

Sirius turned his head to Dumbledore, and Harry sent him a pleading look. Dumbledore sighed in defeat.

"You may stay for one more day," said Dumbledore. Then his expression became serious. "But be careful, Sirius. I would suggest that you spend your time near Hagrid's Hut. He knows that you're innocent, and he will keep your secret. You can pretend that you're a stray that Hagrid found, and that you have taken a liking to Harry and his friends."

Harry smiled brilliantly at Dumbledore. "Thank you, sir," he said emphatically.

He nodded, eyes twinkling again. "It is almost lunch time, and I must go speak to the school. If you wish, you may go to the kitchens and get some lunch to take by the lake. No doubt you wish to avoid everyone's questions."

Harry nodded. "Can you tell them to leave me alone? Tell them that they'll know the story in a few days."

Dumbledore nodded. "I'll refrain from mentioning you gave an interview — which, by the way, was very brave of you," he said, beaming down at him.

"Yeah, Fudge will probably want to kill me when he reads it," muttered Harry, shaking his head.

Sirius snickered. "He won't do anything if he knows what's good for him," he replied, grinning. "Besides, after Rita is through with him, he'll probably be too busy fighting the public's outrage at his indifference."

Harry couldn't help but grin at the thought.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat under a beech tree next to the lake, and Sirius lounged at Harry's feet in his dog form. It had been a few hours since lunch, but none of them had the inclination of going back inside. Harry had told Ron and Hermione about the prophecy (after a bit of prodding from Sirius), and though both were concerned, they managed to keep a brave face through it all.

The Diggorys had found him an hour ago, and he told them how Cedric had died, assuring them it had been quick and painless (he hoped it was painless). They told him they did not blame him, and when he tried to give them the winnings, and then half the winnings, they adamantly refused. Amos Diggory had even apologized to him for his behavior before the task, but Harry shook his head before he finished.

"Don't worry about it, Mr. Diggory," he had said. "It doesn't matter."

Rita had sent her article to them half an hour ago, and after a few changes from Hermione, they sent it back to her with their approval. Sirius had started shaking from laughter when they read Rita's description of Fudge.

"Our esteemed Minister," read Hermione, "does not believe Mr. Potter. After being given an ample amount of evidence from Mr. Potter, the Headmaster, and other professors, Mr. Fudge declared they were being ridiculous and were making up tall tales.

"Professor Dumbledore even gave the Minister suggestions about how he can start planning a defense against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named; however, Mr. Fudge felt the ideas would endanger his term as Minister and believed the public would turn against him for taking action. It seems that Mr. Fudge cares more for his office than he does for the public's safety.

"He continued to rave how Mr. Potter was making up tall tales to gain attention, but after listening to Mr. Potter talk about his ordeal, one wonders how Mr. Fudge can brush the events of the Third Task aside. Indeed, I asked Mr. Potter why we should believe him and his response leaves me in no doubt of his honesty.

"Ms. Skeeter, it is the truth," said Mr. Potter. "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.

"(Mr. Potter later explained to me that he remembered these details after encountering Dementors that were stationed at the school the previous year).

"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?"

"Mr. Potter has a point. Those who knew Lily and James Potter knew that they would have been excellent parents, and it is hard for me to believe that the Minister would not only dishonor Cedric Diggory's life by dismissing the manner of his death, but also disregard the ordeal that Harry Potter experienced at the hands of the most evil Dark Wizard since Grindelwald.

"I implore the public to support Mr. Potter, for it seems our own government will not."

Ron was laughing loudly. "Oh, that's brilliant. She's absolutely horrible, but it's nice when she's on your side, isn't it?"

"This time tomorrow, Fudge is going to want to kill me," said Harry mildly. He found he was slightly amused at the prospect.

"Well after this, I doubt he'll have the time," said Hermione.

Sirius barked in agreement.

"Though, I'm still a bit concerned," she added nervously. "Fudge probably has friends at The Prophet as well. He might want to release articles of his own, and he might build on Rita's old articles."

"True, he could," said Harry thoughtfully. "But with Rita saying that her last article was false, there won't be that many that believe him. And he can't very well say that Dumbledore explained about my scar last night, because that'll put him in an even worse light. It'll remind people that he ignored everything that we told him except for the bit that makes me sound crazy."

"That'll go well for Fudge," said Ron.

"Well, she's made you quite the victim, Harry," said Hermione smirking. "Except more of a victim of the Ministry instead of You-Know-Who."

"Oh, this is going to be fun," he said, smiling dreamily. He couldn't wait for tomorrow.

A/N: That's it for now. Bit of a filler, but it needed to be added. Any recognizable lines come from HBP and belong to JKR.

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