Chapter 11
Tell Me He's Wrong
Harry and Hermione rushed back to his hotel room shortly after their lunch in the park. The sandwich he ate reminded him of the pastrami sandwich at Tony's the previous day in Little Whinging, which reminded him of the reason he traveled to his home town in the first place. Dumbledore's letter. After they both expressed amazement that they could have forgotten about it, they raced back to the hotel.
By the time they arrived, about half past four in the afternoon, the room had been cleaned and the bed made, but neither of them noticed or cared. Harry quickly pulled the brown parchment envelope from his rucksack and examined it one last time. Hermione stood next to him, anxiously waiting. Lacking a letter opener, Harry used the room key to tear open the envelope. He pulled out two long sheets of parchment, covered with the familiar scrawl of the headmaster, Albus Dumbledore.
"Are you sure you want me here, Harry?" Hermione asked for the third time, "This could be very personal."
"Stay," Harry responded abruptly, sounding a little rude. He realized and softened his answer, "I mean, I'd like you to stay. We can't have any secrets, not about things like this." He sat nervously on the edge of the bed, and Hermione did likewise, their arms barely touching. When it came right down to it, he dreaded reading the letter. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that the letter would not contain good news. Why would Dumbledore hide good news for fifteen years? Suddenly he thrust the sheets of parchment in front of Hermione.
"Read it out loud, Hermione. Please." Momentarily surprised, she took the sheets which he offered her and held them a little to her side so that Harry could follow along.
Dear Harry:
I have written more letters than I can count in my excessively long life, but never one such as this. At this moment, one month after the tragic events which claimed the lives of your parents, I must provide you with some information of great importance, yet I write this lacking knowledge of what will have happened in your life by the time you reach this date, your seventeenth birthday.
As I write this, I have had the pleasure to know you as a baby, and I deeply regret that I will not be able to share in your early childhood. Your parents were dear friends of mine, despite the difference in age among us, and I have suffered their loss. Your suffering, however, will dwarf mine, and I can only hope that your aunt and uncle will raise you as their own.
I am an old man, Harry, and I cannot be certain that I will live to meet you again after your eleventh birthday and admission to Hogwarts. Though I am not a great believer in the pronouncements of seers, I do respect the predictions of centaurs, who in fact do possess skill in the field of Divination, though even centaurs' predictions can be fallible. I consulted with the centaurs of the Forbidden Forest, and they have assured me that I will live to meet you again, a prediction that I most dearly wish to be proven true. They also indicate that I will not live to celebrate your seventeenth birthday, and if the centaurs prove correct, I hope that I have had the opportunity to know you and, with luck, to guide you on the difficult path which fate has dealt you.
By now, you will know the circumstances behind the scar on your forehead. You will already have deduced that your scar in some unknown manner links you with the dark lord, Voldemort. In the month since your parents' deaths, I have investigated the meaning of the events of that fateful night, and the ramifications for the future, both your future and the future of the magical world. Both are intertwined.
Though the words entered Harry's ears through Hermione's mouth, he could hear the deep, friendly voice of Professor Dumbledore perfectly, and he sat almost trance-like, unblinking. Hermione paused for a moment to look at him but then returned to the letter, reading it slowly and carefully.
I wonder what form your personality will take. From the little that I know you as a baby, I sense that you are more like your mother than your father, though physically you resemble James. Lily had a inner strength that I have rarely encountered in my long life. Though muggle-born and thrown into a cauldron of difficult times, including blatant discrimination against her kind at Hogwarts, she met every challenge with determination. Certainly she possessed an admirable temper, but always her heart desired to do right, and I never witnessed her refuse to face a challenge. I believe you have that same determination and pureness of heart.
This makes what I must explain to you now even more difficult. My research all leads to the same conclusion. Age seventeen is the age of majority in the wizarding world for a reason, Harry. Certain changes occur to all wizards and witches on that date. For most of us, these changes are almost imperceptible. A magical maturity occurs which allows us to perform certain spells more easily, for example enhancing our ability to perform unspoken spells, and allows us to sense the presence of magic more readily. Often times, minor changes to our personalities occur.
In your case, I strongly suspect that your personality will change much more markedly than for others. Until now, you have been protected by the blood magic resulting from the sacrifice of your mother, and that protection also greatly reduced the ill effects of Lord Voldemort's failed attempt on your life. On your seventeenth birthday, the blood protection ends. The essence of Lord Voldemort which somehow transferred to you will now become more noticeable. In what manner this occurs, I can only submit an educated guess. Voldemort's strongest characteristics are pride, self-confidence, creativity, audacity, and surprisingly, patience. These characteristics are neither good nor evil in and of themselves, but have been utilized for evil purposes by him.
Understand, Harry, that this does not mean that you will suddenly turn into a evil wizard or a new dark lord. On the contrary, you will retain all of your basic personality traits. But you may begin to think and act differently, and for that reason I am writing you this most unpleasant letter rather than informing you beforehand, and even if I survive to develop a close relationship with you, I am determined not to divulge this information prior to this date. I can conceive of no manner to prepare for this eventuality, thus I see no benefit to informing you of it beforehand. Prior knowledge would merely cause you unnecessary emotional turmoil.
You must be aware of the new presence within you, and you must endeavor to control it. Not only must you control it, but you must learn how to channel it for your own purposes. Though Voldemort became the personification of evil, fate does not dictate that you will too. On the contrary, it is our choices that make us. Tom Riddle made the decision early on to follow the path of darkness. You must make your own decision, Harry, and that decision must be to oppose Voldemort and his followers.
I realize that this information may initially cause you pain, but you must be aware of what faces you. Now you are a young man, and I suspect that soon you will face your nemesis. The fate of both your life and the wizarding world will rest with you; however, you will have the strength to prevail. I am sure you will have friends to help you, and you must accept their assistance, but ultimately you alone must assume the responsibility to face Voldemort. Do not do so until you feel the time is right; you will know when that time has arrived.
There is so much more I could write, Harry, but I believe that this is not the time or place. Hopefully we will have known each other during your Hogwarts years, and these words will make sense to you. This letter is not meant to cause you despair but to provide you with the information needed to prevail. In my heart, I know that you will.
With fondest regards, Albus Dumbledore
Hermione tensed while reading the letter as the ramifications of it became clear. She felt Harry's muscles gradually stiffen, and half way through the letter, he completely froze, not moving a muscle until Hermione finished. Both remained silent and motionless for a full minute, trying to absorb Professor Dumbledore's message. Hermione gained control of her mental faculties first, but she could think of nothing to say. Finally Harry stood abruptly and stepped forward a few steps towards the door to the loo, only to stop, his back to her.
"He's wrong! Tell me he's wrong!" he pleaded. His voice betrayed his fear and broke Hermione's heart, but she knew that now more than ever Harry needed her, and she needed to remain calm.
She also knew that Dumbledore had not been mistaken. Harry's personality most definitely had changed, and now that she reflected back, the change occurred exactly on his birthday. Everything that concerned her during the past two days now made sense in the context of Dumbledore's information. Harry's aggressiveness in the parking lot, his manner of speaking to Harrington, not caring about his nakedness that morning, his attitude at breakfast, his wild mood swings. All of it seemed strange and out of character. She now realized that Harry unwittingly spoke the truth that morning.
I guess this is the new me, so everyone can get used to it.
Hermione did not immediately respond to Harry's request, and he turned around, his green eyes emitting fear and anger. He walked past her, around the foot of the bed, and paced towards the door of his room.
"Dumbledore's been wrong before," he argued as much with himself as with Hermione, "Why couldn't he be wrong this time? He himself told me that nobody really understands what happened back then. Sure we have a connection, but that doesn't mean I have to become like him." He threw himself into one of the chairs by the draped window, elbows on his knees and head in his hands.
"He's not saying you have to become like Voldemort, Harry. Dumbledore's saying the exact opposite, that you can control it. You are still you, and you always will be. You're strong enough to control it." Hermione moved around the bed to approach her friend, and she pulled the other chair forward so that they sat only a foot apart.
"So you agree with him then," Harry snarled in a tone accusing her of treason, and the hairs on Hermione's arms stood up at his tone. He stood abruptly and turned his back to her. "I guess I'll be too dangerous now. You'll have to stay away from me."
"Don't be stupid, Harry," Hermione retorted as strongly as she could, her own irritation showing. She stood as well, rounding about Harry so that she faced him, her back near the door of Harry's small hotel room. "You are the best person I know! This does not change that basic fact. Yes, I do think Dumbledore is right. I've seen it yesterday and today. You've acted strangely, but you haven't become evil. Your personality has just changed a little, that's all. Now that you know why, you'll be able to deal with it. We can all deal with it."
Harry laughed harshly, "Right! Piece of cake! Shouldn't be a problem." He turned away from his friend again, not wanting to face her. Inside, he felt a jumble of emotions, fear of the unknown, anger that Hermione agreed with Dumbledore, and utter confusion. What did this mean? What would he become?
At that moment, they heard a knock on the door, causing both of them to jump. They completely forgot that Evan Harrington planned to return to continue their discussion of the previous evening. After flinching, Harry returned to his chair, so Hermione moved to the door, peering through the eye hole to confirm that in fact Harrington stood outside. She allowed him to enter.
The auror smiled thinly at the two teens in greeting, but the smile immediately vanished. Something had happened, he sensed, something bad. He first thought that the two adolescents had an argument, perhaps a lovers' spat. But the mood in the small hotel room seemed darker than a mere domestic dispute.
"What's happened?" he asked simply, after automatically placing a silencing spell on the room.
Harry again stood up abruptly and sarcastically responded, "Nothing, if you believe Hermione. My turning into another Lord Voldemort doesn't seem to bother her a bit." He gestured with a wave of his hand at the witch, and Evan could barely believe the expression of rancor in his eyes.
Evan turned his confused eyes to an exasperated Hermione, wordlessly requesting an explanation. She still held the sheets of parchment in her hand, and Evan saw the hurt in her eyes from Harry's harsh comments.
"Here," she sighed, handing him the letter, "This will answer your questions." She sat down in one of the chairs, looking away from Harry, who in turn stared at the wall on the other side of the room, his back turned to the others.
Evan glanced at the two sheets of parchment, noting the signature of Albus Dumbledore at the bottom of the second. He remained standing while he read the letter, and other than the shuffling of the pages, none of them made a sound. Harry sat on the bed, awaiting the auror's opinion.
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"Who can we send to Essex?" asked Arthur Weasley in a soft voice, meeting with Kingsley Shacklebolt in Arthur's cramped office in the Ministry. Kingsley had just passed on the information he received from Cho Chang. "If Harry's met with Hermione, he may have asked her not to inform us. You know as well as I that Hermione would never betray his trust."
Kingsley responded in his deep baritone, also speaking in little more than a whisper, "We should send a muggle-born, or someone comfortable in the muggle world. How about Michelle Goldsmith?"
Arthur scrunched his eyes. A young muggle-born, Goldsmith only recently joined the Order of the Phoenix, and she remained an unknown quantity. In Harry, Ron and Hermione's first year at Hogwarts, Michelle attended her seventh year in Hufflepuff. Reasonably bright and hard working, she obtained a job with the Daily Prophet, which made her a prize catch for the Order. Nevertheless, so far her only contribution had been transmitting bits and pieces of information gleaned on the job, none of which proved especially important. She had no experience in the field.
"Do you think she's up to it, Kingsley?" Arthur whispered, "She'd be no match for Harrington or any auror. We could send Remus."
"But Harry and Hermione know Remus too well. It seems likely that Harry does not want anyone to find him, neither the Ministry nor the Order. They don't know Michelle, but he won't feel threatened by her. We wouldn't be asking her to take on Harrington. If there's any problem, she should apparate away." Kingsley's voice began to rise with his argument until he realized it and returned to a whisper. "Michelle grew up as a muggle and still spends a lot of time with her parents. For the moment, we just need to find Harry, make contact with him. We're not going to kidnap him."
Arthur glared nervously at Kingsley, still not convinced. Unfortunately, he could not devise a better plan. Dumbledore would have done better, he thought, demeaning his abilities.
"OK, Kingsley. Can you talk to her?" The tall auror nodded as he stood to leave Arthur's office.
xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx
After Evan finished reading Dumbledore's letter, he handed it back to Hermione, but remained silent. Harry sat back in his chair staring at the sandy-haired auror, awaiting his verdict. Much to his surprise, Evan smiled broadly.
"I don't think Voldemort would be too happy about this, Harry. Looks like he has a battle on his hands."
Hermione stood up at Evan's words, upset that he appeared to contradict what she had just argued to Harry, that he would not turn into another Voldemort.
"What do you mean?" she asked sharply, "This is not that important. Harry will always be Harry; he just needs to be aware of these small changes to his personality. He's a strong person, and he can control it."
"You misunderstand me, Hermione," responded Evan with a smile, attempting to calm her, "Of course Harry will never turn into another Voldemort, but apparently he may acquire some of his characteristics. That is excellent!" The two teens stared at the older wizard as if he had lost his mind. He observed the confusion on the faces of the young witch and wizard.
"Dumbledore touched on it himself," he continued to explain, "Voldemort is evil because he has chosen to be, but he is an enormously talented wizard, and he possesses tremendous magical power. He also is a formidable person, in many ways. Few individuals combine the creativity, audacity, leadership and sheer determination of Lord Voldemort. Unfortunately he applies these positive character traits in the pursuit of absolute power. But if you have these same qualities, Harry, you can just as easily apply them in the pursuit of justice. Do you understand? You can use this against him. It seems to me that the playing field has leveled a bit." Evan smiled again and seemed perfectly at ease with the news.
His easy acceptance of Harry's changed personality allowed Harry to relax a little, but he still could not greet the news with such enthusiasm. Harrington did not face the prospect of changing from the known to the unknown. Maybe he would become the type of person that he would never wish to be. Perhaps he would become such an irritating person that his friends would no longer wish to associate with him. So many ideas popped into and out of his mind that he could not keep track of them all.
Evan realized that perhaps he acted too nonchalantly about the news, and he moved closer to Harry.
"You'll adapt, Harry. You'll have to," the auror asserted, now entirely serious, "but we don't have time to let you wallow in self-pity. Things are heating up at the Ministry. We have a lot to discuss tonight. Decisions need to be made, and we don't have much time. I have an idea."