A/N: Thanks to all those who have reviewed, followed, and favorited this story. I'm glad that people have been enjoying it. And a special thanks to Bonnie and Mainsail for beta reading this and thus improving on the original. If you have questions or concerns about what's going on, feel free to include them in a review or a PM — I'll try to answer.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, JK Rowling does.

Recommendation: This chapter's recommended fic is "I'm Not Going" by Pixel and Stephanie Forever. Harry is taken in and adopted at a young age by the Grangers after the Dursleys abandon him. Only he receives a Hogwarts letter, however, and he refuses to go if Hermione — a muggle — isn't permitted to go as well. H/Hr.

Italics: a person's thoughts.

Chapter 13 - Midnight Confessions

Thursday, August 26, 1995, Late Night.

Sirius was more bored than he'd ever been at any other Order meeting (which was saying something), but he had an unusually important appointment after the meeting was over and was anxious to get to it. Sirius had never found any of the Order meetings to be especially interesting, but ever since Jasmine, Hermione, and the Grangers had listed off some of the things that the Order could be doing, he had realized just how little the group was accomplishing. Unfortunately, only a few of them agreed that more should be done, and convincing the others of the value of some of the suggestions was slow going.

Sirius stopped paying attention when Snape began speaking — it was something about Death Eaters studying building plans of some sort. Snape had no idea what building it was, so as usual it was absolutely useless information that only appeared to be slightly helpful. Sirius wondered if anyone else realized just how pointless Snape's participation was, but quickly dismissed the question when he remembered that most would accept him simply because Dumbledore had expressed his trust in the man.

Sirius paid a bit more attention when Snape revealed that both Lucius and Draco Malfoy were still alive, but not in good health and certainly not in Voldemort's good graces anymore. According to the dungeon bat, all of the Malfoys were being subjected to regular degradation and torture, both as an object lesson to the other Death Eaters and as subjects of practice for younger recruits. This information wasn't terribly useful, either, but at least it was entertaining.

It was nearly midnight when the meeting finally ended, and Sirius moved quickly to intercept Dumbledore before he could leave. He'd mentioned before the start of the meeting that he had something important to talk about, but he didn't want to take a chance that the old man might have forgotten.

"Can't this wait until another evening?" the headmaster asked, obviously tired.

"I don't think so," Sirius responded, "And once we get started, you won't either." Dumbledore sighed and gestured to Sirius to lead on. Once in the sitting room, Dumbledore didn't hide his surprise when Sirius cast several privacy and silencing spells on the door.

He also didn't hide his impatience for the younger man to begin. Sirius had debated with himself for hours about how this conversation should go. In the end, he decided the best and easiest solution was bluntness: get right to the point and move on from there. "I know how Voldemort cheated death back in 1981," he said. When Dumbledore cocked a single eyebrow, Sirius continued, "He made horcruxes. That's plural, by the way — more than one."

Dumbledore shocked Sirius by jumping up out of his seat and drawing his wand. Instead of attacking, though, he immediately began casting his own privacy spells on the door. Not looking the least bit kindly or grandfatherly anymore, the old headmaster looked down on Sirius with a grim and even threatening mien. "How do you know this, Sirius?"

"For some reason that I haven't been able to determine yet," Sirius answered, more than a little cowed, "one of his horcruxes blew up most of this sitting room not long after I arrived here. It had been sitting here for years — my brother, Regulus, stole it from Voldemort and tasked the family house elf, Kreacher, with destroying it, but he couldn't."

"Are you certain of this?" Dumbledore asked as he slowly sat back down.

"As certain as I can be," Sirius answered. He pulled out a silk bag and dumped out onto the table a small pile of golden fragments, all twisted and burned. "This is what's left over from the horcrux that was in this house. I think Kreacher is telling the truth, and the pieces here tested positive — barely — for having been connected to a piece of a soul."

Dumbledore cast several of his own detection charms on the shards of metal, including the one Sirius had used once he'd had it explained to him. After a tense minute, he slumped a little in his chair and said, "Yes, it seems that you were correct."

"I haven't been able to find anything beyond the one that was here," Sirius said, "but after hearing Jasmine's stories about her second year, I'm certain he made more than one."

Dumbledore nodded. "I agree, I think that more than one was created."

"I'd like to be part of any effort to find and destroy those vile things," Sirius declared. "He's been after my goddaughter since she was a toddler, and I want to do this to help protect her. Besides, this was obviously something that my brother believed in doing, and I'd like to continue pursuing it in his honor."

The old headmaster didn't say anything for a long moment, but finally he replied, "That may be possible. As a fugitive you are limited in what you can do, obviously, but if something comes up, I would welcome your assistance."

"I take it you knew about these things already?" Sirius asked. "You recognized what that diary was?"

Dumbledore nodded slowly. "I've known for quite some time that he must have done something to cheat death, though it wasn't until a couple of years ago that I came across the evidence that horcruxes were probably the means he used. This confirms it, at least as far as is possible to confirm something like that without having an intact one to test."

"We need to tell Jasmine," Sirius declared. "She's the one he keeps targeting and she needs to know why he refuses to die, no matter how many times she kills the berk."

Dumbledore looked almost panicked for a moment. "I don't think that would be a good idea. I don't believe that knowledge of the existence of such things should be spread any further than necessary. The fewer who know about Voldemort's horcruxes, the better. If he even suspects that anyone knows about them, he will make it harder for us to find and destroy them."

Sirius acquiesced reluctantly. "That makes sense, but she may need to know about them eventually. She's the one who's always fighting Voldemort, and this is critical information."

Dumbledore nodded slowly again. "Yes, she may need to be told at some point, but not before it's necessary. This should be kept secret for as long as possible."

So, it's definitely true that Voldemort made multiple horcruxes, Dumbledore thought as he lay awake in bed. It wasn't just the diary and the fragment behind Miss Potter's scar. But how many? And where are they? I will need to start hunting them down, and soon. I'll also need to start preparing Miss Potter, but I can't tell her about the horcruxes — not yet. She'll need to have at least basic Occlumency skills before I do that. And the prophecy? No, that wouldn't be a good idea either... but special lessons about Voldemort's life and personality are the most obvious first step. But how do I justify that without telling her about the prophecy first?

Dumbledore tossed and turned long into the night, but no real answers came to him. He hated dealing with situations like this without a plan, but it looked like he wouldn't have a choice this time.

Friday, August 27, 1995, Late Morning.

"Professor Dumbledore!" Molly Weasley exclaimed when he entered the kitchen. "I wasn't expecting you here today! Oh, I do hope everything is alright... here, take this seat and I'll get you a cup of tea. Lunch isn't quite ready yet, but I'm sure I can whip up some—"

"Thank you, Molly," he interrupted, "but just the tea is fine. Aside from Sturgis having been arrested at the Ministry, everything is fine."

"So what brings you here today?" she asked as she set a cup down in front of him and poured his tea.

Dumbledore reached into his robe and pulled out a stack of envelopes. "I thought I'd bring by everyone's Hogwarts letters a bit early," he said with a smile. As she flipped through the envelopes, Mrs. Weasley started nattering on about what they'd need to buy and when they'd make the mass shopping trip to Diagon Alley. "I don't think you should take any of the children to Diagon Alley," he advised her. "It's much too dangerous right now, especially for Miss Potter and Miss Granger."

"Oh, dear," she said, "they won't like that at all, but I suppose that it's for the best."

"Where are they, by the way?" Dumbledore asked as he stirred sugar into his tea.

"The girls? They should be up in the library with Fleur," she answered. "They frequently spend all day studying, often with Fleur, though not always. She's spending a lot of time with Remus, too, preparing for the coming term."

Dumbledore nodded and said, "Very admirable."

"I must admit," she went on, "I wasn't too keen on the idea of a French witch teaching my children — and one so young, too, not to mention a veela! But she seems like a hard worker who knows the subject well. And it's amazing how well she gets on with Jasmine and Hermione. You'd think they'd all known each other all their lives."

"Oh?" Dumbledore asked, filing that bit of information away. "That's interesting. Very interesting indeed."

"I'll call them all down for you," Mrs. Weasley said, but Dumbledore put out a hand to stop her.

"No need," he said. "I'll take their letters up. It will give me a chance to have a private word with Miss Delacour." Dumbledore stood and headed for the steps. Only part way up the first flight, though, he heard a door open and then the hushed, whispered voices of three witches approaching. With a quick charm to enhance his hearing, the words were suddenly clear.

"...where in ze Ministry zey keep zeir records of prophecies made in Britain, but zey should have an extensive collection. Every Ministry does." Clearly that was Miss Delacour.

"Should we try to go? I'd like to see if it's there. Do you suppose I'd be able to remove it? Then no one else would ever be able to hear it. Though Gabrielle might find it interesting..." That sounded like Miss Potter — but how did she know about Sybill's prophecy?

It was Miss Granger's voice which replied, "I doubt we'll have time to organize a trip like that, but it's worth thinking about. If not before term starts, then maybe during the Christmas hols."

Far faster than anyone would have expected a wizard of his age to be able to move, Dumbledore was down the steps, through the hall, and back in the kitchen. A silent, wandless banishing charm sent the two envelopes under the table, where Mrs. Weasley discovered them when Dumbledore claimed that he hadn't had them when he got to the stairs. Just a few seconds later the three witches entered the kitchen, and Dumbledore was able to personally hand over the two Hogwarts letters.

Rather than stay, though, he begged off with an excuse about taking care of some matters he'd only just remembered. He had some important decisions to make.

Friday, August 27, 1995, Evening.

That night, everyone in Grimmauld Place celebrated because both Ron and Hermione had received prefect badges in their Hogwarts letters. Everyone was happy for the two, and more than a few were surprised that Ron had received a badge, since his marks hadn't been the best last year. As the party wound down, the four Gryffindor friends huddled together in a corner of the sitting room to discuss the choices made by their head of house.

"It still seems odd that Neville wasn't picked," Ron insisted. "His work and confidence improved quite a lot last year."

"Yeah, but while you had problems, you also turned it around during the second term," Ginny pointed out. Jasmine was pleased to see her defend her brother, despite how much closer she was obviously getting to Neville. Then again, she considered, if Neville isn't a prefect, that means she'll have more time with him. She eyed the younger Gryffindor speculatively for a moment. Yep, definitely a Slytherin in lion's clothing.

"Hermione at least wasn't a surprise," Ron continued. "She was always going to get the badge, even from first year."

Hermione blushed at that. "Not necessarily," she countered. "Jasmine could have gotten in. One could argue that she should have."

Jasmine shook her head. "No, not in comparison to you. Not only are my grades lower than yours, but I get into more trouble than you do... and that's not taking into account the fight I had with Malfoy! If I ever had any chance of getting picked, it went out the window once I stood up to the Headmaster and forced him to change school policies. Whether he agreed with me in the end or not, I was still just a fourth-year witch who forced the Headmaster to bend, and there's no way his ego would take that lying down."

"That just shows how much of a leader you are," Hermione protested. "And prefects need to be student leaders."

"She's a leader who doesn't get her power from the staff," Ginny pointed out. "You and Jasmine have changed things at Hogwarts, but you wouldn't have managed to accomplish nearly as much if you were dependent on the professors for your authority. Given what you've been doing, you need to be able to work independently of them."

"Good point," Jasmine said with a thoughtful expression. "Maybe it's better if I, a least, remain independent." She looked at Hermione and added, "Sometimes we have to work within the system, and sometimes we have to work outside it."

"Do you think the ferret will be back next term?" Ron asked, changing the subject.

Ginny snorted while Hermione shook her head. "He's wanted for questioning in what happened at my house, at the very least," Hermione said. "But since the last spell cast by the wand he left behind was an Unforgivable, I don't think he'll dare show up, just like his father hasn't dared show himself in public since Jas was kidnapped."

"Buncha cowardly, slimy snakes, the lot of them," Ron said disgustedly.

"Not all Slytherins are bad," Jasmine said, annoyed that this argument was coming up yet again. "Several of them helped me a lot last term, remember, and they will be working with us in the coming term. You'll have to get over your prejudice at least a little bit if you want to be around us much."

"Yeah, yeah," Ron said before taking another swig of butterbeer. "I'll try."

The three witches all looked at each other, not exactly convinced by this ringing declaration.

At Hogwarts, Minerva McGonagall and Filius Flitwick were enjoying their weekly get-together. Whereas McGonagall's meetings with Jasmine and Hermione revolved around tea, her meetings with Flitwick were associated with a more adult beverage — one that she found herself drinking a bit more often in recent months. Most summers Flitwick was absent from the castle, travelling, but this year he'd stuck around. McGonagall appreciated his presence because he was such a good listener as she unloaded some of her concerns on him.

"Do you think you'll have the time to help train them again this term?" she asked him at one point when the conversation turned to their two favorite students.

"I'll make the time," he assured her. "I quite enjoyed teaching them, to be honest. I haven't had an apprentice of any sort in many years, and it was nice to have that kind of mentoring relationship again."

Minerva nodded. "I know exactly what you mean. They are both very smart and very good with magic. They pick things up quickly, and it's a joy to see how far they are able to take my lessons. This coming term, I was thinking about teaching them some higher level transfiguration spells and tactics. Perhaps you'd be willing to contribute some lessons on using charms to control transfigured animals?"

Filius' eyes brightened with the possibilities. "Oh, yes, that sounds like fun. I suspect that they'll have the power to do some interesting things… and without the worry about it corrupting them, too." He paused to take another sip of his drink. "At least they'll be here this coming term. I was outraged when I heard about the trial the Ministry put them through. I don't suppose you've heard anything more about it?"

"No, nothing new. Albus has them hidden in a location that I can't mention, but I can tell you they're safe. I hope to see them at least once before term starts, "

"Do you trust the Headmaster to keep them hidden and secure?" Filius asked.

"I'm not sure any means of protection would be guaranteed at this point, but there are others there with them now," Minerva said. "I have to wonder if the girls will ever trust him again, though. Miss Potter, in particular, already feels manipulated by him, and it just gets worse every time he makes a decision that affects them without getting their input."

Filius sighed. "He's always been like that, as far as I know. And the more important the issue, the more likely it is that he'll horde information, relying on no one's council but his own."

Friday, August 27, 1995, Late Night.

Despite the late hour, Albus Dumbledore was pacing back and forth in his private quarters, unable to sleep. First Sirius knows about Tom's horcruxes, now Miss Potter is aware of the prophecy about her. What else can go wrong? How many more secrets aren't actually secret? he lamented. She didn't need to learn about this yet! To learn that she and she alone can stop Tom is such a heavy burden — too heavy for someone as young as her. She needed time to enjoy her childhood.

He had thought that he might tell her about the prophecy at the end of this year after teaching her about Tom's background, or maybe some time next year once the war with the Death Eaters presumably started getting worse. I can't let her learn the full prophecy until she has mastered enough occlumency to prevent the information from being stolen from her mind, though — that cannot be compromised on. I can keep Miss Potter from going to the Department of Mysteries, but only for so long... eventually she will get there and discover it for herself, whether it's safe for her to do so or not.

Unless... unless she thinks she knows what's most important and has assurances that she'll get the rest later? If she only learns what Voldemort already knows, so there's no danger of him learning more?

Now he sank down on the bed, a plan finally coming together in his mind.

Saturday, August 28, 1995, Evening.

The shopping trip to Diagon Alley almost didn't take place, at least for the students. Molly Weasley seemed determined to enforce Dumbledore's instructions to stay in Grimmauld Place, claiming that the alley was too dangerous. They all argued against it, with Hermione taking the lead. She pointed out that she'd been there several times over the summer, both alone and with her parents, and that a shopping trip would be plenty safe enough if they were accompanied by members of the Order. Most of the adults agreed, encouraged by their growing discontent with Dumbledore's decisions over the summer.

In the end Molly relented because she couldn't find Dumbledore to get further advice on what to do. With Tonks, Lupin, Fleur, Molly, and Arthur providing security, everyone spent a long and mostly uneventful afternoon shopping.

The most interesting part of the trip had actually been a place where they didn't buy anything: Ollivander's. Jasmine had wanted to find out what had happened in the graveyard when her wand connected to Voldemort's. As creepy as Ollivander could be, he was also a wealth of information about wands, and he recognized the effect as Priori Incantatem — two brother wands vying for superiority.

Evidently, had Jasmine held on, she and Voldemort would have ended up locked in a battle of wills rather than of spells — a battle where her relative lack of education and experience wouldn't have been as much of a detriment. Whoever had the strongest will would have forced the other person's wand to submit — and no one would have been allowed to interfere, which was why the golden cage had started forming around them. According to Ollivander, it was ancient magic that was only rarely seen, and that alone convinced him that Jasmine had fought Voldemort.

Upon their return, the four Gryffindors retired to the girls' bedroom, where they spent time learning how to use the new camera that Jasmine and Hermione had purchased. It was something they'd been wanting since Christmas but hadn't been able to find in Hogsmeade.

"Just don't become another Colin Creevey," Ron said pointedly.

"Oh, no worries," Jasmine replied with a shudder.

Ron turned to Hermione. "I still can't believe you just marched into Borgin & Burkes and lied to the guy in there."

"Oh, that's right," Ginny said, "You were going to tell me about that!"

Hermione went a bit pink as Ron told the story of watching Theodore Nott, an especially nasty Slytherin from their year, go into Borgin & Burkes to talk to the owner about holding something. "Jasmine's convinced that he's up to something," Ron explained, "especially with Malfoy likely being gone this coming year. That's why we followed him in the first place."

"She was even more convinced after we heard what he said," Hermione continued, "That's why I went in there and pretended to be his girlfriend — I was trying to get more information."

"Girlfriend?" Ginny exclaimed in horror. "Eww! I can't believe you did that!"

Ron snorted. "The guy in the store couldn't believe it, either — he saw right through her."

"So I'm not a good liar!" Hermione snapped. "That's not exactly a bad thing!"

"It is when you're trying to trick others into helping you," Jasmine pointed out, not bothering to look up from her book.

Ron and Ginny both chuckled while Hermione huffed. "We'll need to keep an eye on him, I think," Ron said. "I know you keep telling me that not all Slytherins are slimy, but somehow I don't think he's one of the good ones…."

Sunday, August 29, 1995, Night.

"Thank you for agreeing to see me so late, Miss Potter, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said as he cast locking and privacy spells on the door to the sitting room. He had intended to do this sooner, but once he realized that he needed to have a conversation with both witches, he'd required a bit more time to prepare than he had expected.

He noted the suspicious expressions on their faces as he sat and gestured for them to sit on the sofa across from him. "Originally I had intended to simply talk to you, Miss Potter," he began, "in order to give you some information that I've been holding back until I thought you were old enough. I was then going to let you decide whether you shared it with Miss Granger, though I expected you probably would."

"When I was old enough?" Jasmine asked indignantly.

"However," Dumbledore continued as if he hadn't been interrupted, "after hearing about your excursion to Diagon Alley despite my warnings not to do so, I decided that I needed to talk to both of you."

"You can't keep us constantly locked up," Hermione protested. "Besides, we were careful and nothing happened."

"Earlier this month I learned how the Death Eaters found Miss Granger's home," Dumbledore explained. "I hadn't intended to share that, but it appears that now I will have to."

"Why wouldn't you share it?" Hermione demanded. "Isn't that something I deserve to know?"

"Perhaps," Dumbledore said, "but with your parents leaving the country and you living here now, I felt that it would only cause you unnecessary distress."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked suspiciously.

"Tell me, Miss Granger," Dumbledore responded, "were you also careful all the other times you visited Diagon Alley this summer?"

"Yes, of course," Hermione answered, though less belligerently now.

"Yet you didn't notice that you had been recognized and followed by servants of Voldemort. Twice." Both Hermione and Jasmine recoiled in horror at this news. "The first time you were followed, they lost track of you, and Voldemort ordered more of his people to watch the alley." Dumbledore sighed before continuing, "Unfortunately I didn't hear about that and so wasn't able to warn you. The second time they spotted you, there were three of them, and they followed you right back to your front door. Voldemort himself then ordered and helped plan the raid against your family. You were all to be taken before him alive, and while I do not know exactly what he intended, I can well guess."

Hermione wrapped her arms around herself and started to shake, overwhelmed by the fact that she had nearly gotten her family captured — and death probably would have been the most merciful outcome had the plan succeeded. Jasmine put her arm around the other witch's shoulders, trying to offer comfort.

"I do not take any pleasure in telling you this, Miss Granger," Dumbledore stated. "Indeed, I did not want to tell you at all because I knew that you would simply blame yourself. You made a mistake, it is true, but far more experienced wizards and witches have made similar mistakes. And many of them didn't survive to learn from them. I'm only telling you now because you didn't heed my advice to stay away from Diagon Alley yesterday."

"Maybe if you had told us about this…" Jasmine objected as she squeezed her girlfriend tight.

Dumbledore sighed. "Yes, Miss Potter, you may be right. Perhaps I should have. I simply did not want Miss Granger to suffer unnecessarily. I don't like to see any of my students suffer, and I try to protect them as much as I can. I had hoped you would believe my advice was given with the best of intentions, not because I simply wanted to keep you locked up." Jasmine just glared in reply.

"Do they… do they know anything else about my family?" Hermione asked thickly. "Do they know where my parents' dental practice is?"

"No," he responded. "They followed you home and no further. And I doubt they will try another attack there again, at least not any time soon. They certainly have no idea about your parents' move to France. Right now, I think they are about as safe as they could possibly be."

Hermione took a shaky breath and nodded.

"What is it you wanted to tell me, then?" Jasmine asked.

"You once asked me," he began, "why Voldemort came after you and was so interested in you. Do you remember that?"

Jasmine nodded slowly. "Yes, while I was in the hospital wing at the end of first year."

"Exactly," Dumbledore responded. "I told you then that it was not yet time for you to learn such information. To be perfectly honest, I'm not sure that now is the right time, either. However, it is something you will need to learn sooner or later, and Voldemort's recent return makes me think that perhaps sooner would be best. Tonight, I'd like to give you a bit of it."

"Not all?" she asked with a frown.

"Unfortunately, no," he answered. "Some of the information is rather sensitive, and I cannot take any chances that the wrong people might learn it from you. If it helps, I can assure you that you won't be able to do anything about the rest for the immediate future. For now, though, what you need to know is that a prophecy was given before you were born — a prophecy that promised the birth of someone who could defeat Voldemort. Only two infants fit the conditions of the prophecy, and when Voldemort learned of it, he decided to kill them rather than take the chance that either would grow to become a threat. He came after you first, and you know what happened then."

"What does this prophecy say?" she asked, tension obvious in her voice.

"The prophecy begins, '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.' I won't tell you the rest — that is what you will have to wait on. Nevertheless, the opening lines are more than enough to make clear why it is so important — and why Voldemort came after you once he heard it himself."

"So that's why he came after me... and it was me he came after, not my parents. I'm why my parents died!" Jasmine said with growing horror. Numbly, she asked "How did you learn of this prophecy, sir?"

"I was the one the prophecy was originally delivered to," he said. "And to anticipate your next question, Voldemort found out because a recent recruit to his cause overheard the first part and took that information to him."

"Who?" Hermione demanded in a low voice.

"It does not matter," Dumbledore said firmly. "That person later regretted their actions and repented. What they did is now long past — it cannot be undone and will not be repeated." He sighed deeply and added, "I must confess that Voldemort learning that little bit of the prophecy, and even that a prophecy existed at all, is something that I count as one of my greatest failures. I cannot tell you how often I have berated myself for allowing that information to escape and reach his ears."

Jasmine frowned, clearly not satisfied with that answer, but she let the matter drop. Instead, she asked, "Who was the other? You said there were two who could have fit the prophecy."

"Do you not know someone else who was born as the seventh month dies?" Dumbledore responded.

"Neville!" Hermione said with a gasp.

"Why are you so sure it's me and not Neville?"

"That, I'm afraid, can only be answered by the parts of the prophecy which Voldemort does not yet know, and which I therefore cannot tell you, either. Suffice it to say, there was a time when the prophecy could have referred to either of you, but a choice was made and then it could refer to only you."

"Does this mean that I... that I have to fight him?"

Dumbledore's expression turned sad when he answered, "Though I wish it were otherwise, that seems most likely. The prophecy does say that the one with the power to vanquish him approaches, not simply one of many. This suggests that you are the only one who can. Prophecies are always a bit… ambiguous, to say the least, but I studied this particular prophecy for many, many long hours, and in the end that was the only interpretation that I found which makes sense."

"I hate prophecies," Hermione muttered.

"And you've known this since I was an infant? Before I was born, even?" Jasmine asked. Dumbledore nodded, not quite noticing the dangerous edge in her voice.

"Then why the hell haven't you been training me!" she shouted as she shot up off the sofa. Dumbledore's eyes widened in shock as she stepped forward and loomed over him. "You believe that I have to fight him. You believe that I alone can defeat him. So why haven't you been helping me get the tools and skills I need to stop a powerful wizard with decades of experience and buttloads of knowledge?"

"Miss Potter, please, I can assure you..." he said, but she cut him off.

"I can't believe you!" she bellowed. "Did you expect me to stumble randomly across the ability to stop him? Through sheer dumb luck?"

"Miss Potter!" he said forcefully, finally getting through to her. "Children cannot be trained in difficult, powerful magics while they are still young. Even prodigies must proceed carefully, otherwise they could harm themselves."

Jasmine rolled her eyes in exasperation. "I'm not saying that you should have been teaching me post-NEWT spells when I was five. But there are things besides spellcasting that you could have been teaching me. I could have been learning accuracy and theory. I could have been learning tactics and strategy. Hell, even just fitness and exercise would have been something!" Jasmine was now working herself up to even more of a rant than before, so Hermione grabbed her hand and pulled her back down on the sofa.

"None of that would have allowed you to enjoy your childhood," Dumbledore protested.

"What childhood?" Jasmine shouted incredulously, causing various items in the room to start shaking from the anger-fueled magic she was exuding. "I didn't have a childhood! I was starved! I was forced to do as many chores as my body could bear! I was psychologically and emotionally abused! I was even beaten occasionally!"

Dumbledore blanched as he listened to this. "Surely... no, surely you are exaggerating, Miss Potter. No one treats family like that…."

"Don't call me a liar!" she roared as she stood again. Items in the room started shaking even more, and the effect moved beyond the room, attracting the attention of others in the house. "I know what I endured because I was there for every single minute of it. I never saw you there, ever, so don't pretend you have any idea what went on in the prison you condemned me to for more than a decade!"

He had learned recently that there hadn't been any real love between Jasmine and her relatives, but he never imagined that their relationship had been this bad. "I… I had no idea, Miss Potter," he protested, "I knew that they weren't the warmest or kindest of people, and so that when I left you with your aunt and uncle that I'd be sentencing you to ten dark and difficult years, but I had no idea…."

This time Hermione cut him off, saying, "Did you ever check up on her? No, and since you didn't care enough to check on her, don't pretend that you care now. Don't pretend that her enjoying her childhood mattered when you just admitted that you knew she'd be enduring dark and difficult years! How can you claim to want to protect your students when you did nothing to protect Jasmine?" By now, the very foundations of the house itself were starting to tremble, and Dumbledore finally took notice of the effects of the two witches' combined anger.

"Miss Potter, Miss Granger. Please calm down," he implored them.

"Calm down? Calm down?" Jasmine exclaimed. "Why should we calm down? I just found out my parents died because of a stupid prophecy that you couldn't keep secret. I just found out that I'm the only one who can stop Voldemort, but you could never be bothered to train me. I just found out that you knew you'd be causing my life to be horrible and didn't care."

"Miss Potter," Dumbledore said, putting a bit more force than usual behind his words, "you were placed with your relatives because it was only there that the blood wards could be erected, and the blood wards provided you with the best possible protection against Voldemort's servants or even Voldemort himself. It's not that I didn't care, it's that I chose what I felt was the lesser of two evils — the far, far lesser, in fact. I knew that your childhood wouldn't be ideal, but you would have the best possible protection from wizards and witches who intended to harm you."

"But it didn't protect me from my relatives who did harm me," Jasmine hissed. She was still furious, but the power behind Dumbledore's words started pushing back against the witches' anger, and the trembling in the house began to subside.

"You have no idea how very, very sorry I am about that," Dumbledore said, sounding completely sincere. "They took you in voluntarily, which was necessary to seal the blood wards and which I thought meant that you would be accepted, even if you weren't doted upon. And it's true that I did not visit, but that was because I did not want to exacerbate your relative's distrust of magic. Instead, I did what I could to monitor your condition from afar."

Hermione fixed him with narrowed eyes. "The blood trackers, you mean."

Dumbledore gaped at her briefly before saying, "How? How could you…."

"It doesn't matter," Jasmine interrupted him. "We know. And we know that they are supposed to provide you with all sorts of detailed information about my health and condition. What did you do with that information?"

Dumbledore frowned and shook his head. "No, I never received what I would consider a detailed report. I was given general indications about your physical health. Occasionally a device would reveal that something was wrong, but it always went back to a positive reading within a day or two, and I concluded that it had simply reported the typical childhood illness or injury. That, combined with reports from Arabella Figg, led me to conclude that there was nothing so wrong that it required my personal intervention."

"Those instruments are capable of providing far more information than you received," Hermione said in a tone that was more than a little condescending. "I think you either weren't using them right, or didn't set them up right."

"Regardless," Jasmine added, "they would have only told you about the physical abuse, which was infrequent — and when it did happen, I healed pretty fast. I didn't know it at the time, but looking back I think it must have been my magic helping to heal me."

Dumbledore sighed and took off his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose. "That would be why the devices reverted to positive readings so quickly," he said softly. "And that might also help explain why they were unable to give me any information on you when you were abducted, though Fawkes was also unable to locate you. I must confess that that was the first and only time I had ever set up such devices. It is entirely possible that I did not do so correctly, but when I did set them up, I checked their readings against what I could see personally, and they appeared to be working correctly, so I simply assumed…"

Jasmine shook her head. "They probably wouldn't have been able to report on the emotional and psychological abuse, anyway. I can't imagine why you'd think Mrs. Figg would have been able to help — the Dursleys didn't like her much, and I didn't see her often. What's more, even on the best of days, I'm not sure she's entirely all there."

"I mainly wanted someone nearby to inform me about emergencies or anything that the magical tracking devices couldn't report on," Dumbledore explained. "And I'm afraid that she was the only person available. There were few people who I could be absolutely certain didn't sympathize at all with Voldemort and who could live in the muggle world. Please believe me that I didn't simply drop you there without any intention of ensuring that you'd be cared for. I knew you might not be as loved and nurtured as you deserved, but I intended for you to be as cared for and protected as you needed."

"Well, you didn't do a good job," Hermione said, her voice was quieter now than it had been before, but the anger and disappointment had not lessened.

"Indeed I did not," Dumbledore admitted, "and I cannot begin to express just how sorry I am for that. If I'd had the slightest inkling… I hope you will trust that I never intended…."

"Trust? Trust you?" Jasmine's laugh lacked any trace of humor. "Even if we discount all of the things you did to mess up my life, we wouldn't trust you. Not given how you use people without any regard to their wishes or well-being."

The confused expression on the Headmaster's face made it clear that he truly didn't understand, which only angered the two witches more. "Miss Potter, I've never used people like…."

"Does the second task of the Triwizard Tournament ring any bells?" Hermione asked bitterly. "You put me at the bottom of the Black Lake without asking for my permission. At the time, I had a letter from my parents forbidding my participation as anything other than a spectator, but you didn't seek their consent, either."

"I'm sorry, Miss Granger, but the magical agreement behind the tournament required me to obtain hostages…."

"And you could have asked for volunteers," Hermione interrupted. "You could have asked. Instead, you treated me like a tool. Like a thing that only existed to serve your needs. I don't care how pressing you felt your needs were, it was still wrong. It would have been wrong for anyone to do, but being a headmaster gives you a responsibility to protect all the students, not a right to use them in your own schemes whenever you see fit."

"I think you should go, Professor," Jasmine said suddenly. When Dumbledore looked up, he could see a slight glow behind the young witch's eyes. "I'm very… angry with you right now. You may not have acted maliciously, I'm honestly not sure at this point, but…."

"But you still treated her horribly," Hermione finished as she put her arm around the other witch's shoulders. "And you haven't treated me much better. She's right, you should go."

Dumbledore nodded, recognizing that there was no way he'd be able to apologize enough tonight, and that it would be best to try to continue this conversation once the two witches' anger had subsided. Without another word, he stood, cancelled the privacy charms on the door, and left.

Once he was gone, Hermione and Jasmine pulled each other into a tight embrace.

"I just can't believe it," Jasmine half-sobbed. "Another bloody... as if I didn't already have enough to do!"

"I know, I know," Hermione responded. "But you aren't in this alone, you know that? Right?"

Neither witch heard the creak of a floorboard outside the room.

"Why me? Why is it always me?" Jasmine asked.

"It'll be alright, luv," Hermione said soothingly. "We'll get through this together. Like I already told you, nothing will ever keep me from your side when you're in trouble."

Jasmine sighed. "Yeah, I know. It's just..." She looked into Hermione's worried eyes and said, "I love you so much, Hermione. I don't know what I'd do without you in my life. I'm already enough of a wreck as it is, but without you... I wouldn't have made it even this far."

"I know," the brunette witch responded. "I love you, too, Jasmine. And that's why I know we're going to make it through this. We love each other, and together, we'll be able to beat anything. Nothing was strong enough to defeat us even before we became a couple, and now that we're together we're stronger and better than ever."

Outside the sitting room, a dark figure investigating the source of the magical disturbances which had shaken the house stood stock-still next to a door that was neither silenced nor sealed. After a moment of stunned disbelief, the figure retreated as quietly as they had arrived, pondering what to do with this information.