Chapter 71 – Immortality Revoked
"Why are you telling me this now, Sirius?" Harry asked.
"Because you have the right to know," Sirius replied. "Too often in the past things have been kept from you 'for your own good.' Jean-Sebastian and I," he gestured to the other man, "have agreed not to do so any longer. The only reason why I did not tell you earlier, was because we were all focused on the ritual to neutralize the horcrux. I'm sorry if you feel like I should have told you earlier."
Harry waved him off—it was truly not important. He doubted he would have wished something else to be dumped on him when things were so uncertain.
Now, however, he felt rejuvenated; he felt almost like a new person. Having lived with the Dark Lord's soul shard since he was a child and before he could remember what it was like without, Harry had never known anything else and had had no frame of reference with which to compare. Now that he was free of the shard, the difference was as clear, almost as if he was looking through a clean pane of glass which he had not known was dirty before. He felt more in focus, more in control of himself, and a malaise, which he had never known existed, now seemed to be lifted from his shoulders. He did not know exactly how he would be affected, but he suspected that not only would he be more cheerful with less effort, but that he might experience improvement in his memory, and his ability to process information. It was as though he was now free of all inhibitions and could finally reach his full potential.
But regardless of that fact, he was still caught by surprise at Sirius's revelation that morning of his parents' true betrayer. Or perhaps it was not such a surprise—at least from his father's perspective. Knowing that Snape had been his mother's friend, and knowing of his avowed feelings for her, Harry was finding the knowledge that he had ultimately betrayed them to Voldemort almost impossible to process.
"So you're saying that Snape betrayed my parents to Voldemort," he repeated.
"No, that was Pettigrew, as you well know," Sirius replied. "But Snape was the one who overheard part of the prophecy and took it to the Dark Lord. That ultimately led to Voldemort targeting your parents, and eventually to their deaths."
Harry did not know what to think. On the one hand, he was enraged that the man had tormented him, even while carrying around the guilt for betraying them—and his self-avowed best friend—to their deaths at the hands of the Dark Lord. For that alone, Snape deserved the bollocking that Harry's mother would give him as soon as he moved on to the next life.
On the other hand, he was well aware of the fact that Snape likely could not have known to whom the prophecy referred. Perhaps if he had thought about it, he might have realized that his erstwhile friend was due to give birth at about the time the prophecy indicated, but even so, he could not have predicted what came after. The fact that the man was an unpleasant, greasy git who hated him and favored his own house was largely irrelevant, though it did make him want to have a go at the bastard himself.
"So what are we to do about it?" he asked out loud.
Sirius, who had been pacing the room with agitation, stopped and slumped down into his chair. "Therein lies the rub. I was ready to Reducto his head, I can tell you."
"But we still need him," Harry murmured. "He knows where Voldemort's hideout is, and there is still a possibility that he can bring us information that we need."
"I think the question is not about Severus Snape's usefulness or his culpability in this matter," said Jean-Sebastian. "It seems to me that the matter is more about how Dumbledore not only kept this matter from us—from you directly, Harry—and how he kept Snape on as staff here, and put him into a position of power over the students. From all you have told us the man is not a good teacher, is that correct?"
Harry grimaced. "I wouldn't necessarily say that he's not a good teacher—at least when he takes the trouble to do so. He's biased toward Slytherin, he takes points at the least provocation—though Dumbledore told me that he corrects that—and he has always seemed to have me directly in his sights. If you can get around that and his general surly demeanor, I'd say he knows the subject very well."
"Knowing the subject and being able to teach it are two different things, Harry," said Sirius.
"I know that. But I think he could be a very good teacher if he put his mind to it. He's far too biased to give most of us a fair shake—that's his biggest problem."
"And yet Dumbledore kept him here because he thought Snape was needed when Voldemort returned," said Sirius.
Stopping for a moment, Harry thought about the situation, and when he began speaking again, he did so slowly as his thoughts coalesced in his mind. "You know, that bothers me the least of all this. Knowing Voldemort as he did, and knowing what he was capable of, I might have done the same thing if I was in Dumbledore's shoes. Sure Snape has not been good for the school, but on another level, if Voldemort gained control, then I doubt we'd like the atmosphere here much anyway."
"That's what Dumbledore said," replied Sirius with an expression of distaste.
"And he's not wrong," said Jean-Sebastian. "The argument can be made that Snape has done much worse to the school and society in general than the benefits which were had by keeping him here spying on Voldemort."
"Not if Snape's actions directly lead to Voldemort's defeat," replied Harry.
"That's something we can never really know," Jean-Sebastian said. "We can speculate in hindsight once it's all complete, but we cannot ever know for sure."
Harry nodded. "That's why I think we should just leave it alone. I'm sure that Dumbledore has done some things that he would consider distasteful in trying to defeat Voldemort, but I understand why he's done them. 'To know your Enemy, you must become your Enemy,' and all that. I'd say that you could easily substitute the word 'know' for the word 'defeat' and still be pretty close to the mark. And part of that is keeping your enemy's supposed underlings close. Dumbledore has also played a key role in defeating the horcrux ritual, he's led us in a time where we needed leadership to defeat Voldemort, not to mention the roles he played in beating back the Death Eater attack on the Ministry, and everything else he's done. I wish that Snape had not made my life miserable in my early years here, but in the end, the man will be punished for what he's done, and I can't think that any punishment we could give him would be any greater. Let's just let this go."
Sighing, Sirius flashed Harry a crooked smile. "Though part of me wishes it was different, I can't say you've made the wrong decision, Harry." His expression hardened. "But what I told Snape holds true; once Voldemort is gone, I had better see the back of him immediately. I still haven't completely given up the idea of that reductor."
It was Sunday the week following Potter's killing of Nagini when the expected summons finally arrived from the Dark Lord. Throughout the week following the adventure, Snape had tried to keep a low profile as, though he had never truly cared about what others thought of him, there were enough people who were now aware of his role in the deaths of the Potters and his involvement in the excitement the previous weekend, that he would not put it past some do-gooder to attempt to curse him in the back.
Thus, he attempted to simply do his job—he taught his classes, rendered additional assistance to the students, and wherever possible, ate his meals and returned to his quarters quickly, while attempting to speak to as few others as possible. And the times he saw Potter himself, he ignored the boy's existence, though Potter did thank him for his assistance in finding Nagini in an understated manner the first time they met. Ironically, though Snape detested the boy almost as much as he had loathed James Potter, he had never once entertained the thought that Potter might be responsible for Dumbledore and Black knowing that he had provided the portkey to the Dark Lord's lair. He knew enough of the boy to know that he would never do such a thing—Gryffindors were such a predictable lot. Besides, it had been inevitable that Dumbledore would determine the truth of the matter, though Black having mustered the intelligence to see it had been somewhat of a surprise.
So, Snape loftily nodded at the boy, before entering the class and directing the students to begin their brewing for that day, all the while hoping against hope that the conflict with the Dark Lord could be resolved as quickly as possible, and he could be on his way to another location soon after. Staying in Britain did not have any appeal whatsoever, and he would be gone in an instant the moment it became possible.
In some ways, the summons from the Dark Lord was a blessing. Though playing his part in front of the man was taxing, at least he was away from the castle; the atmosphere in the school had become somewhat stifling. Even the Dark Lord's suspicion and what would almost certainly be a foul mood due to the death of his familiar was not enough to induce Snape to truly regret this summons.
Snape exited the school and apparated away, going to the same location as he had given Potter the week before—he assumed that the Dark Lord would have given him other directions had he moved his base of operations. When he arrived there, he found that the area was just as forbidding as it had ever been, and he noted the plumes of smoke rising from various chimneys in the manor house. It seemed the Dark Lord was still in residence. The man's arrogance apparently knew no bounds—he had to know that someone at least knew where he was hiding, but he stubbornly maintained his presence there, essentially thumbing his nose at anything the Ministry could do.
He passed the guard on duty at the door with hardly a glance and strode into the depths of the house, moving swiftly, eager to meet with the Dark Lord and then be gone.
Once again, the man was to be found in the throne room, but this time he was not alone—the new members of the Dark Lord's inner circle, including Bellatrix, Selwyn, and several other men who Snape did not recognize, had gathered together at a long table which had been placed in the middle of the room.
"Severus," the Dark Lord greeted as he entered.
"My lord," Snape murmured in response as he stepped toward the empty chair close to the Dark Lord's own position.
Feeling the Dark Lord's eyes on him as he walked, Snape swiftly moved down the length of the table and sat in the indicated chair, allowing his eyes to rake down the table and take in the faces of those who were there. He felt a moment of sardonic amusement—these men were in no way the equivalent of Lucius Malfoy and the Dark Lord's former leadership, either in appearance, or in competence, Snape reflected. The capture and subsequent executions of Malfoy and his fellows had truly hit the Dark Lord hard.
"Now that we are all here," the Dark Lord said with a sidelong glance at Snape, "we can begin this discussion. Bellatrix, what is the situation?"
"The Ministry forces have attempted to keep up with our attacks," the woman stated, "but they have not been able to interfere in our operations. Generally, we have caused what damage we can and departed before the Ministry can respond.
"Of course, we are not causing the damage we caused in the first war, as many more people are making use of portkeys. But the Wizarding world appears to be becoming paralyzed with fear."
"And as I stated before, we must be patient," said the Dark Lord. "The fact that the cleansing of Mudblood filth is slower than it was previously is of little matter. The important point is the fear we are causing, and the implacable will we demonstrated in moving forward to win this conflict. At some point the Ministry will become overtaxed, and our engagements will see a continued bleeding of their strength. And it will happen soon."
Bellatrix inclined her head. "In that you are correct, my lord. In fact, the attack on Godric's Hollow has heightened the anxiety quite admirably. Now that we've shown what the Dementors can do and have demonstrated that we will ruthlessly strike out at any who oppose us, I expect people to begin leaving Britain in droves."
The Dark Lord smiled at Bellatrix, though Snape had to suppress a shudder at the sight. The man had never been much for showing his emotions on his face, and while he had in fact smiled, it certainly had not reached his eyes, which were dead and cold, like two lumps of coal. Snape suspected that to a certain extent, this war had become a means to punish those who had caused the death of his familiar, in addition to imposing the Dark Lord's vision of the world order on the populace.
"Very well," the Dark Lord said, and he leaned forward, looking down the table with his typical intensity. "The time has now come to strike at the Ministry once and for all. We will finally take what is ours, and leave them scrambling to appease us once we have that which is most precious to them.
"Selwyn. What have we learned of the goblins' defenses?"
"They are a tough and martial race, my lord," Selwyn responded. "They stood against us using shields and swords, and used little magic in their own defense. We can overwhelm them with numbers, as they are not a numerous people."
"What of the defenses in their tunnels?" the Dark Lord asked.
"It is almost impossible to tell until we arrive there," said Selwyn. "All of us have visited our own vaults and have seen some of their defenses. But the journey has generally been quick and there has not been much time to inspect."
"That is of no matter," replied the Dark Lord. "Once we have pushed them into the tunnels, they will have no choice but to negotiate with us." The Dark Lord's grin was vicious. "Take away a goblin's ability to profit, and you can dictate whatever terms you like to him. They will be falling over themselves to meet our terms within days of our takeover of their precious bank.
"And from the perspective of Wizarding Britain, conquering the upper levels of the bank will do the same thing to them. Without any access to their vaults, the people will panic, and the Ministry will quickly grind to a halt without any way to fund the government."
The Dark Lord paused and looked out over the assembled with a half-smile on his face. Snape once again felt a measure of contempt for the man—for all that he was powerful and intelligent, the Dark Lord placed too much reliance on his own infallibility. It was truly the man's one major weakness.
"Remember—control a people's future, and you control the people. Wizarding Britain is about to learn that lesson."
Lazily, the Dark Lord turned his attention to Snape. "However, there is still a thorn in my side which must be dealt with. And finally, that move shall be made and the thorn shall be plucked. Are you ready to fulfill your purpose, Severus?"
"As I ever have been," Snape replied, careful to keep his expression impassive.
The Dark Lord gazed at Snape for several moments before he spoke again. "It must be difficult for you, Severus. You have spent years in the belly of the enemy, playing a dangerous game pretending to be his spy."
Snape snorted. "I would hardly call it dangerous. Even if Dumbledore did suspect me of duplicity, he would almost certainly try to talk me over to his side. He certainly would not take the decisive action you would, my lord."
"I suppose that is true," was the Dark Lord's genial reply. "Not having to worry for your safety would take a certain amount of pressure off you, I suppose."
"Yes, it does," Snape agreed.
"And yet, Dumbledore still trusts you, which shows that you have been very successful in your charade. I commend you.
"But now the moment we have all been waiting for has arrived, and I dare say that you are the one who is most relieved by that fact. We shall strike very soon, but your task, Severus will be of the utmost importance. I am counting on you to strike the blow which will completely demoralize our enemy and make our victory all but assured.
"Severus, you will kill Albus Dumbledore."
So this was it—the moment had finally come. To be honest, Snape had expected this some time ago, as it only made sense that Voldemort would use him for the purpose of neutralizing his greatest enemy. But Snape had also been dreading this moment as, because of his oaths, there was no way for him to carry out Voldemort's command, and once the Dark Lord became aware of the fact that he had not killed Dumbledore, he would be aware of Snape's duplicity.
But it was unavoidable, and it was now past the point where he could control events, if indeed he had ever possessed that power. It was now imperative that he continue to play his role as he always had, and hope that Dumbledore—and indeed Potter himself—were up to the task.
"Yes, my lord," Snape responded evenly.
The Dark Lord raised an eyebrow. "Are you not happy to be finally moving against Dumbledore?"
"I am… relieved that it shall finally be at an end," Snape said carefully. "But I have always known that you may require this of me, and I have been preparing for this for some time now."
"Of course you have," replied Voldemort. "I have always known of your intelligence, which is why you have been a perfect spy."
"How will I know when to act?" Snape asked.
"I shall call you through your mark," Voldemort said, gesturing lazily at Snape's arm. "When I give you the signal, you will proceed immediately to Dumbledore's presence if you are not already there, and then you will kill him by whatever means possible. Do not confront him or give him any opportunity to defend himself, Severus—you are my assassin. You will kill Dumbledore without any hesitation and without any mercy. If I have need of you, or should our plans change in the interim, I will send word to you by another method."
"I understand, my lord. May I ask if you have any idea of the timing of this event?"
The Dark Lord pursed his lips. "At present, our ultimate timetable is not known, and even if it was, I would not tell you."
"Yes, my lord. I merely wish to ascertain approximately when I may expect to receive your order so that I might plan in advance."
"Very prudent."
Snape was not certain, but he though he detected a hint of mocking in the Dark Lord's voice. Of course, the man almost always appeared to be mocking the very world around him, so that was nothing new.
"In answer to your question, I do not know exactly when we shall move, as it depends on several factors. However, I believe I may safely say that it shall not be before early next week, as there is still much to be done to prepare. You may make your plans accordingly, but I urge you to be ready to move at a moment's notice, as the situation may change."
"Very well, my lord."
But Voldemort's gaze did not waver in the slightest. "Are you not concerned, Severus?" he queried. "Should the command come, I expect you to carry out your orders without a hint of hesitation, no matter the situation. You may be required to kill Dumbledore in front of many witnesses. Does this not concern you?"
Snape shrugged. "I am well aware of the ramifications of these orders, my lord. I expect that should I kill Dumbledore in front of witnesses, you will exercise your authority once Wizarding Britain is subdued, to see to my disposition."
"Very good, Severus," said Voldemort. "You have seen to the heart of the matter most admirably, and you are correct. Trust me, Severus—should you succeed in your mission, you will be a hero to our cause.
"For now, it would not be prudent for you to be privy to the rest of our plans. I suggest you return to Hogwarts and prepare to do what must be done."
"I will await your orders, my lord."
And with that, Snape rose from his seat and, bowing toward the Dark Lord, he turned on his heel and swept from the room, and out of the manor into the surrounding moor. A moment later, he was standing on the front lawn of Hogwarts just outside the entrance to the courtyard, where he began making his way toward the Headmaster's office. Dumbledore was busy doing something today—something to do with Potter, he imagined, as it had all been of the utmost secrecy. But Snape thought that he could catch him before he left. The clock was ticking, and whatever Dumbledore had up his sleeve, he would need to know about this new development as soon as possible.
"So he is finally ready to make his move," Albus mused as he sank back into his seat.
He was due to head to the Room of Requirements shortly in order to see to the final ritual which would destroy the last of Voldemort's known horcruxes. Severus had caught him at a fortunate time, as this was definitely news that he would wish to know as soon as possible.
"He has," Severus replied.
Albus watched the man, noting that though Severus was as outwardly composed as ever, he had picked up a bit of a fidget that morning which was normally not present. He was coming to that point where his allegiance—real or forced, and Albus was not even certain which it was any more—would be revealed. Events appeared to be speeding toward a conclusion, and though Albus could not tell how it would all come out in the end, he fancied he was as eager to have the matter done with as Severus was himself.
"It appears that his target is the bank," Albus continued in a conversational tone. "It is an ingenious plan, and it fits with the moves he has been making lately. I suspect that he wanted to move against the goblins in the last war before he was distracted by the news of the prophecy."
"It had been discussed several times," Severus acknowledged. "Though I was not a member of his inner circle at the time, Lucius generally kept me informed of any matters of import, and the bank came up several times."
"Voldemort is correct, of course," Albus replied, watching Severus. "The panic which would ensue in Wizarding Britain should the wealth of the people come under Voldemort's control would be devastating. We must counter his plans at all cost."
The man had not shown any sign of particular impatience, but Albus knew Severus as well as anyone, and knew that Severus wished to be reassured of what was to come. As well he might; Voldemort would not be pleased when he found out that Severus was not as loyal as he had thought. For the sake of his own continued wellbeing, Severus would want to know not only that the Ministry was ready to take the Dark Lord down, but also that Harry was up to the task, whatever that task turned out to be. Albus had a few ideas on the matter, but their formal plans had not yet been finalized.
"But to be honest, Severus, I must admit to a certain level of curiosity about his actions. You were not called to a different location?"
The other man shook his head. "Everything was the same as it was the last time I was there. There are perhaps more guards watching the surrounding area and I believe he has strengthened the wards, but other than that, there didn't seem to be any indication that they were preparing to move.
"Of course," Severus said in a scathing tone, "if Potter had just killed the snake and not made a big display of it, then we would not need to worry as much about it. Typical Gryffindor."
There was the usual hatred Severus displayed, and predictably, it was directed at Harry. Of course, Albus agreed with the general sentiment—it would be much easier had Harry not tweaked Voldemort's nose and made such a show of the snake's death.
But be that as it may, Albus could sense that Severus's vitriol was half hearted at best. Almost as though he was acting in a manner that he thought was expected, rather than releasing his all-consuming hatred as he usually did. This business must be affecting Severus even more than Albus had thought.
"I must admit that the fact that Voldemort is not moving his operations elsewhere is troubling," Albus continued. "I would have thought that Nagini's death and the way she was displayed would have shown him that he as not as secure where he is as he would have thought."
Severus just grunted in agreement—or at least what Albus presumed was agreement.
"Do you have any thoughts on the matter?"
"It could be any number of things," Severus replied with a shrug. "He could feel that it's not worth it, as he intends to make his final move soon. He could think that it was some sort of vigilante attack. Personally, I think that the Dark Lord is just too arrogant to think that he can be threatened. He's got a rather large ego, as I'm sure you know."
"That I do," Albus replied with aplomb. "But I've never known him to be stupid."
"Stupidity or arrogance?" was Severus's rhetorical question. "Seen a certain way, they could be considered to be closely related."
"They could at that." Albus leaned forward and put his hands on his desk. "I want you to tell me everything that was said while you were there—leave nothing out. Anything at all could be a clue as to what he is planning, and we need to predict what he will do as best we can."
Though Severus appeared to swallow his impatience with some difficulty, he readily complied, relating everything he could remember of the meeting with Voldemort. Albus did not doubt his account—Severus's oaths assured the truth of his words, and Albus knew that Severus had an excellent memory, in part due to his intelligence, and in part to his skill at Occlumency.
Unfortunately, though the account was accurate, the meaning behind Voldemort's words and gestures eluded Albus, and he sat for several moments after Severus had stopped speaking considering the matter. The Dark Lord could certainly be subtle when he chose to be, though Albus knew that Severus was at least in part correct about his arrogance. But there was no indication that Albus could detect that Voldemort suspected Severus of duplicity, and if he still believed that Severus was loyal to him, then he would have no reason to mislead him.
There was always the possibility that Voldemort had fed Severus false information to mislead Dumbledore, but again that implied that he no longer trusted his spy. If he did not, then that was certainly a possibility, but as long has he trusted Severus, then he would have no reason to feed him misinformation. If that was the case, he would simply not inform Severus of his plans at all.
"What is your opinion, Severus?" Albus asked, turning his attention back to the potions master. "Do you think Voldemort was trying to mislead you?"
"You forget," Severus replied with a snort, "I'm the Dark Lord's good little spy."
"I know that. I was attempting to determine if he suspects you, and consequently was trying to mislead you."
Snape grimaced. "I don't think so. He's never given me any indication that he doesn't trust me any more, and I did not get that impression when he spoke today. It's a possibility, I suppose, but I don't think so."
"Very well," replied Albus. "In that case, thank you for the information as always. I will make sure the Minister knows."
"What if the Dark Lord commands me to kill you before the Ministry is ready to strike at him?"
Albus sat back and thought for a moment. "I suppose then we may have to fake my death. I'm sure we could contrive a situation where you walk in on a meeting with certain individuals and supposedly kill me."
"And what of Potter?" Severus demanded. "Is he up to the task?"
"Defeating Voldemort?"
Snape nodded with a scowl on his face.
"I cannot answer that question for you," Albus replied.
"And before you start to rail against Harry," he continued, forestalling what would likely have been another tiresome diatribe against Harry, "remember that he will not be the only one involved in Voldemort's downfall. We have several pieces in play which will swing events in our favor, or so I believe.
"But I can tell you right now that it is not my intention that Harry confront Voldemort on his own and defeat him. If he must meet with the Dark Lord, it will be under as controlled a circumstance as we can manage. He is, after all, only fifteen years of age."
"And where is the prophesied savior of the Wizarding world?" Severus sneered. "With such divine intervention on his side, I would have thought that Potter would be itching to go toe-to-toe with the Dark Lord and defeat him, so that his head may grow ever larger. He was eager enough to tackle Nagini."
"With your assistance, I might add," Albus shot back.
"That doesn't change the fact that it was at his instigation."
"No it does not. But if you had not provided him the means to do so, he may have been forced to come to me with his idea. If he had, and if he had presented a compelling enough argument, the whole business might have played out quite differently."
"But it didn't, did it?" Snape jibed. "I expect that at some point we'll start hearing some fantastical story about how the great Potter vanquished another great snake under the domination of the Dark Lord. I dare say that he will gather every bit of fame and attention he can muster before the Dark Lord is finally defeated."
Albus shook his head. The Snape he had known for more than fifteen years had finally made an appearance, just when Albus thought the man might control himself for a change. But he was not going to continue on this path—not only did he need to see to Ginevra Weasley's freedom from Voldemort's soul shard, but the effort was simply not worth it, as Severus would never change his mind.
"I have no more time to discuss this with you, Severus. Your information will be used to see to Voldemort's final defeat, and I assure you that everything that can, will be done to ensure he is gone for good. But at the present, I need to see to certain things which will also facilitate that end. I will see you at dinner tonight."
Standing rather stiffly, Severus rose and turned on his heel, and with a theatrical flourish of his cloak, he departed the room. Albus sat and listened as the sound of his footsteps faded away until he reached the stairs and descended. It was truly a pity—the man was intelligent—gifted even when it came to certain things. But his personality, his way of thinking—regardless of the fact that he had recanted his allegiance to Voldemort—and his hatreds made any discourse with him difficult at best. As knowledgeable as he was of potions, Albus would have liked to keep him in his position, if he would only teach it properly and not allow his prejudices to get in the way.
As it was, when Voldemort was defeated, he would leave and not return, and Albus knew it was best for the school, for Severus, and for society itself. But that did not make it any less of a shame.
Sighing, Albus rose from his chair and departed his office. If their conjecture was true, then at the end of the day, Voldemort would be vulnerable. Albus felt a pressing need to make that possibility a reality.
Later the day of his conversation with Sirius and Jean-Sebastian, Harry found himself again in the Room of Requirements. Though the ritual to remove his own portion of Voldemort's soul had already been performed on him, Harry had somewhat of a morbid curiosity as to what it looked like from the perspective of an observer. And he had been largely in the trance as Dumbledore had put it, though he had seen some of the initial stages of the ritual, so he had not truly witnessed much of it, nor did he remember the things he had said, though Hermione and Fleur had given him the story of what exactly had happened.
But beyond all that, Harry felt that he needed to be there to support his unofficial little sister. Ginny had been there for him, so he would be there for her, though he was well aware of the difference in circumstances between her attendance and his own.
What he found was almost eerie. He walked into the room, in Ginny's company, and he was immediately assaulted by the memories he retained from the previous day's events. Specifically, the placement of the torches, the hardness of the raised platform and the faces of the participants struck him—if he had not already done this himself, he fancied he would be worried as to the outcome.
Ginny's reaction was immediate and negative, as she took one look at the room, and immediately turned and buried her head in Harry's chest. Awkwardly, for he had never held any girl other than Fleur and Hermione in that way, he tried to comfort Ginny. It was a few moments before he was able to induce her to remove her head from his shoulder, and she looked up at him through misty eyes.
"Sorry," she said bashfully. "It's just…"
"I know," Harry said with a smile. "It's tough. Even though you've already seen it completed successfully once, there's always the chance of something going wrong. And as I gather, yesterday was a… bit of an adventure."
Ginny smiled and looked down. "I know it's silly."
"It's not silly. If you'd gone first, I would feel the same way. But Ginny, we've got him beat. You go into that circle, and you'll come out free of any influence from old snake face."
"Thanks, Harry," Ginny said.
"No problem. Now get in there, and let's kick him out of our lives once and for all!"
Smiling, Ginny reached up and pecked him on the cheek. Then she straightened her shoulders and marched to where Dumbledore and the others were waiting, indicating that she was ready for them to begin. Dumbledore smiled at Harry in acknowledgement, and then directed Ginny to lie down on the platform so that they could begin.
"Thank you, Harry," said Mrs. Weasley as he took a seat near her and her husband.
"It's no problem, Mrs. Weasley," Harry replied. "I've had so many people supporting me. I'm happy to support Ginny however I'm able."
"I'm glad she has someone to look after her like you," the woman replied with a warm smile.
"Don't forget her brothers," Harry said with a chuckle. "I pity the poor soul who falls in love with her—he's going to have a rough time of it."
The Weasleys chuckled—and the twins hooted and waggled their eyebrows—and then they fell silent as the ritual began.
Harry watched with an almost morbid fascination while the participants went through the steps of the ritual, severing the connection between Ginny and Voldemort, much the same as they had done with him the previous day. What Harry could not quite make out were his own feelings on the subject. Relief was certainly present, as was a sense of satisfaction that in this, at least, they had beaten the Dark Lord, a man who in his arrogance and evil thought he had managed to cheat death.
But beyond that Harry felt relief that his friend would soon be free, but nothing more. It was almost as if Voldemort was now to be relegated to the past, and that he had no more ability to hurt Harry or the ones he loved. Of course, that was patently ridiculous, as the Dark Lord was indeed still active, and was bent on dominating Britain and ensuring that Harry met a rather messy end. But it was how Harry felt, regardless of how wrong he knew it was.
When the sword of light about which Hermione and Fleur had spoken had severed the connection, and the soul shard had bled out of Ginny, Harry let out a sigh of relief and he approached with her family when the torches' light had disappeared.
"Remus, if you will?" said Dumbledore.
The man nodded and he once again cast the spell, confirming that Ginny was indeed free of the soul shard. They all gathered around Ginny, and congratulations flowed freely. It was several moments before anything was spoken above the hubbub of congratulations and the murmur of several voices speaking at once.
"I have a question, sir," Harry said.
Dumbledore smiled at him and indicated that he should continue. "Fleur and Hermione told me that the soul shard spoke through me when you were getting ready to sever the connection, but nothing like that happened with Ginny. I wanted to know why I was different."
"And there's another question," Ron spoke up. "Whenever Harry came close to Voldemort, his scar hurt, and he had these visions of Voldemort, and could connect to him. Why didn't that happen to Ginny?"
"A very good question," replied Dumbledore. "Unfortunately, it's one that I do not have a good answer for."
"Excuse me," Samuel said, looking on with interest. "But I'm not sure I understand what you are saying."
"Ever since I came back into the magical world, my scar would react whenever Voldemort was nearby," said Harry, touching the remainder of his scar. It had faded admirably in the past day, and now was nothing more than a thin white line; it would always remain with him, of course, but now it was not so visible as it had been in the past. "It would almost double me over when it was really bad, and after Voldemort came back, he touched me there and it almost made me pass out.
"And, there were times when I would see visions or dreams of him. Once I had a dream from his familiar's perspective. I learned to actually manipulate the connection between us and I could spy on him if I was careful."
Samuel looked at him speculatively. "That is very interesting, Mr. Potter. There are no records of such things with respect to a horcrux in the archives that I am aware of."
"Then why was I different?"
"It is difficult to say," said Dumbledore. "It might be because of the way you were made into a horcrux, with the killing curse bouncing off you. It might also be that there is something different about you which made the soul shard in you react differently from the way it acted with Miss Weasley."
"There is also the relative difference in your levels of power," added Samuel. "If I am not very much mistaken, you are extremely powerful for your age, are you not?"
Harry nodded somewhat bashfully, but Ginny immediately spoke up.
"Harry is way above me in power level, though I'm no slouch. Or at least I don't think so."
"Then the soul shard might have reacted in the same way your Headmaster informed me the shard in the basilisk reacted," Samuel continued with a nod. "The basilisk's own magic enabled it to reach out to you and influence you, Miss Weasley, but when it passed from the basilisk and entered you it was not able to take such a direct role in events as its source of magical power had been removed. But Mr. Potter here is more powerful than you, so the connection was much more substantial, and it allowed Mr. Potter to see into Voldemort's mind. And, during the ritual, it was able to go so far as to speak through Mr. Potter when he was in the trance."
"Does that mean that the connection is gone?" Harry asked.
"It would seem to be so," Samuel replied, "though you would need to actually test it to be certain. I suspect that certain others would not be happy if you did that, though."
"I think we can leave that possibility unexplored, Harry," said Dumbledore. "Let's just be thankful that you are now free of his influence and leave it at that."
"Yes sir," Harry replied.
"In that case, I believe it is time to depart," the Headmaster continued. "There is much to be done and the four of us are weary." Dumbledore turned to the other three. "Once again I would like to thank you all. Your help has been invaluable."
With that, the company began to break up. Harry congratulated Ginny once more before he left her in the capable hands of her family and made his way from the room. Fleur and Hermione were waiting for him, and he felt an urge to relate to them the success of the final ritual.
Late the evening that the final horcrux was freed, Harry was once again called to the Room of Requirements, but this time it was for a completely different reason. Sirius had told him privately that everything was now in place to strike back at Voldemort and defeat him once and for all, and that night's discussion was to finalize the plan which would see the second Wizarding war ended. Hermione and Fleur had not been invited, though Harry was certain that everyone understood that they would hear everything that was decided upon from him as soon as he was able to return to the common room.
For that matter, Harry felt like he was a child playing an adult's game as he walked into that room that evening. Not only was Dumbledore, but the Minister, the Director of Magical Law Enforcement, the Head Auror, and all of the senior Aurors were all there. In addition, Jean-Sebastian was in attendance, as well as many senior French Aurors, and even a few curse breakers—Bill Weasley sat to the side of the room, obviously on loan from Gringotts as the goblins obviously understood that their future was also wrapped up in this endeavor as well.
Perhaps the most surprising attendee was a man to whom Harry was introduced almost as soon as he entered the room. Jean-Sebastian and another man who appeared to be the same age, walked up to him, and Jean-Sebastian smiled at him in welcome.
"Harry," he greeted. "I'd like you to meet a friend of mine. This is Alain Dupuis, the French Minister for Magic."
Harry gaped for a moment before he remembered himself and attempted to reply. "It is nice to meet you, sir. I had no idea that you were coming."
"Now, none of that 'sir' stuff," the French Minister replied with a hearty laugh. "I have it on very good authority that you refer to my friend by his name, and I would appreciate it if you would extend the same courtesy to me. All my friends call me 'Alain.'"
"I will, thank you," Harry replied with a grateful nod.
"Good. I'm sure we'll be on familiar terms. Jean-Sebastian is my closest friend, and since you'll be married to his eldest daughter, I'm sure that we'll be seeing a lot of each other."
"I think we will," said Harry with a smile.
The Minister peered at him with a keen eye before he spoke again. "Jean-Sebastian had been telling me a lot of you lately. I can see that his regard is not misplaced. I'm glad to have you aboard, Mr. Potter. It's time to get rid of that Dark Lord of yours."
"I don't think anyone wishes for Voldemort to be gone more than I do," Harry replied, to which the French Minister slapped him on the back with a commiserating smile.
"If everyone will take their seats," Dumbledore said from the lectern at the end of the room, "I believe we are just about ready to begin."
Harry turned and with Jean-Sebastian—the French Minister joined Minister Bones at the head of the room—they went and took their seats with Sirius. Harry did notice a number of those in the room looking at him, no doubt wondering what a fifteen year-old boy was doing at a meeting of this nature. He ignored them and turned his attention to Dumbledore, knowing that they would soon be told.
"Wizards and witches," Dumbledore began, "the time has now come to strike back at the Dark Lord and his forces, and hopefully defeat him once and for all. We have credible intelligence which tells us his current location, but also that he plans a major offensive some time in the next week. If allowed to proceed, this offensive could cripple our economy and ultimately lead to his victory.
"At the same time, we now believe that he is vulnerable. Therefore the time has now come to act."
A swelling murmur of voices arose at the Headmaster's words, but he motioned for silence. "With the help of our French allies," Dumbledore nodded to the French Minister, "we now have the numerical superiority needed to crush Voldemort and his forces. We will use our knowledge of his plans and strike at him before he attacks us, thereby eliminating him as a threat before he can destroy us."
What followed was a long and somewhat drawn out—at least to Harry's mind—strategy session, which, though it ultimately defined the coming offensive, appeared to have a lot more talk than was required. First both Ministers stood before the audience and gave speeches which amounted to pep talks to the troops. Then Director Shacklebolt stood and went over the details of the plan, taking care to disseminate what each unit's responsibility would be in the assault.
It was in essence a simple plan, and Harry was impressed with the way it had been methodically thought out, but not over-planned so as to introduce confusion and uncertainty. Knowing where the Dark Lord's base was, the Auror corps had been given the task of creating portkeys which would take all their forces to the site, where they would bring the wards down and storm the building. The assistance of the French and the surprise they were almost certain to generate would give them the upper hand and allow them to prevail. The plan was somewhat audacious, but it was decided that a bold move was needed to defeat the Dark Lord. It was also a plan which had a flaw—Harry saw that almost immediately.
"Excuse me," he said somewhat diffidently. "But won't Voldemort and his men just portkey away?"
"Under normal circumstances, yes," Minister Bones replied. "But we have a plan to use their own tactics against them.
"Gringotts has offered the use of their warders for our efforts. They will go in under the cover of night and plant wardstones around the manor. Those wardstones will be activated when we are ready to attack, and once they are active, no one will leave that manor."
The participants sat back and considered that bit of information. Again, having heard of what had happened at the Ministry, Harry knew that the plan was a good one, but it contained many variables, and if any one of those variables went off-kilter then the whole attack would be for naught.
Besides, there was something nagging at Harry, though he could not pinpoint it. Perhaps it was the attempt to deceive the master deceiver himself, which was always fraught with danger. But for the life of him he could not discover a flaw in the plan which had not already been mentioned. At some point, they would have to try to pin Voldemort down, and now that they had his location and the manpower to take him on and end his pretensions, it seemed like the best time to make their move. Harry tried not to think of what would happen should Voldemort escape.
"There is one more thing," Dumbledore said from the front of the room. "Many of you are likely wondering what Mr. Potter is doing here." Murmurs erupted around the room, but Harry kept himself impassive. "There is a very specific reason, I assure you. Mr. Potter, if I may?"
Harry nodded his head tightly, hoping they were doing the right thing.
"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 room descended into silence, and though Harry saw some confused expressions, he also saw several with a glimmer of understanding. It was too late to back out now—those in the room had been sworn to secrecy, but eventually this would come out.
"That is a prophecy which was given to me about six months before Mr. Potter's birth," said Dumbledore. "I shall not bore you with all the details, but it points to Mr. Potter as having an integral role in the defeat of the Dark Lord. He has already done so once, but the prophecy is still active, as confirmed in the Hall of Prophecies."
"Do you intend for a teenager to defeat the Dark Lord?" asked a French Auror with some incredulity.
"Not without me being there," Sirius interjected.
"As Mr. Black has stated," continued Dumbledore, "we do not intend for Harry to meet Voldemort by himself. However, we would be foolish to ignore the prophecy as well. Therefore, Mr. Potter will accompany us to the site and will be on hand to confront the Dark Lord at that time. But I will be with him, as will Sirius, and with our help, we hope he will be able to defeat him. Thus, we wish to fulfill the prophecy, but under highly controlled circumstances."
"How can you have any control whatsoever when dealing with a Dark Lord?"
"Point taken," Dumbledore acknowledged. "Of course we cannot ensure complete control and dictate events to our liking. However, to the extent that we can control events we will do so.
Dumbledore leaned forward and gazed out over the audience, his expression serious—firm in a manner which allowed no dispute. "I am convinced that he must be there. Mr. Potter has quite an impressive record against the Dark Lord—one that no one alive can boast of, including myself. I have every confidence in his abilities."
With that, the final few details—including the exact schedule—were hammered out and Dumbledore dismissed the attendees for the night. Harry got up and in the presence of his godfather and his future father-in-law, began to make his way from the room.
"So what do you think?" asked Sirius. "Are we completely nuts to even be considering this?"
"Much as I'd like keep Harry from any danger, I think Dumbledore's right," was Jean-Sebastian's quiet reply.
"I'll stick by you all and be careful," Harry promised.
Jean-Sebastian smiled at him fondly. "I'm not worried about that, Harry. In a situation as crazy as a pitched battle, you can never know what will happen."
Nodding, Harry followed his guardians from the room, trying not to think of the events which had been set in motion.
Updated 07/21/2014