So like… I know May Third was on a Friday in 1996… but we're just gonna pretend it wasn't for plot purposes.
The chaos left behind by Cedric, Fred, and George would be talked about for centuries. Even a week later, people were still talking about how it all went down. How they were all woken up by an Elton John song and then the castle exploded with foam and glitter. The castle still wasn't back to rights as the only people on clean-up and chaos control duty were Umbridge and her Inquisitorial Squad. All other teachers were maliciously complying to the Educational Decree that declared they are only allowed to discuss and practice the subject they teach. Even after a week, nobody could really come up with something crazier than what had actually happened.
The three of them truly had knocked out everyone in the entire school, spray-painted the halls and half the portraits, upturned classrooms, burst all the pipes, flooded the first floor quite completely without also flooding the dungeons or basement, stuffed the place to overflowing with foam, let loose a portable swamp, and released another bout of fireworks. To add the cherry on top, Umbridge was being followed by a Furby of all things. No matter what she did to it, it kept coming back in perfect condition, cooing and purring and, occasionally, singing "What's New Pussycat" by Tom Jones. It was driving her mad and she spent more time attacking it over the students.
For Harry, it was the most he'd been able to relax all year. There was a blinding pain the previous night, but when he moved up to his bed where his guardians were, he felt better and stayed there until his scar pain subsided, making it an early night. In the morning, he called Sirius and his godfather had answered which laid any remaining anxiety to rest. Even with Cedric gone, his Occlumency practice was helping keep his scar pain to a minimum.
It was safe to say that he was in a good mood this day. Which led him to forget about the swamp that blocked his usual path to the Defense Classroom. He had decided to wait for the staircase to change when Ginny came by on a barge, carting Neville, Luna, and Daphne.
"Hey good-lookin'!" Ginny called. "Need a ride?"
"Yeah, sure," he said.
She pushed the barge over and Harry and Ron stepped onto it. Harry picked another punter and helped her push them along across the swamp. He grinned and started singing Phantom of the Opera.
"He's there… the Phantom of the Opera."
"What are you going on about?" asked Ron.
Daphne started warbling off-key, making Harry laugh.
"I imagine it's a stage musical reference," said Luna. "Leonard prefers death metal."
She lifted up her jar, which contained a bright yellow banana slug.
"Why do you have Leonard, Luna?" asked Harry, ready to humor her eccentricities today.
"He wanted to go for a walk," she replied.
"Makes sense."
Ginny stopped the barge by the corridor leading to the Defense Classroom.
"First stop," she said. "That'll be five galleons!"
"You're off your rocker!" Ron protested.
"Price just went up to ten each."
"I am not giving you ten galleons! What are you gonna do, take me back to the end of the corridor?"
Ginny stared at him and shoved him into the swamp. Daphne lifted the hem of her robes and delicately stepped onto solid ground.
"How about a bag of kosher bubble monsters?" she asked, offering a bag of pink and blue candy.
Ginny considered it and accepted the bag. "I'll allow it. Is kosher different from normal bubble monsters?"
"I dunno, but it's easier just to get the kosher brand from Honeydukes than try to acquire ingredient lists," Daphne admitted.
"True," said Hannah, who was sitting nearby.
Harry helped Ron out of the swamp as Ginny moved along with Luna.
"I'll get her back," Ron spluttered.
"Sure you will," said Harry, patting him heartily on the back. "Come on."
While Ron and Daphne took their seats in the lecture hall, Harry went on to the front of the room. Umbridge hadn't been showing up to classes, so Harry decided to take it upon himself to prepare his classmates for their O.W.L.s. He took out his personal notes and started writing out the lesson plan on the chalkboard. He drew out spell names and wand movements with dots signaling hard stops and arrows signaling direction. He put the name of the spell and then the syllables along the wand movement to aid with actual casting. He actually came up with that himself and he was pretty proud of that idea even if he wasn't the first teacher to ever use it.
"Good afternoon, class," he said as he wrote on the board. "How are we all feeling today?"
"Despite what you think, Potter, you're not the teacher and you are certainly not the boss of us," said Pansy Parkinson.
"Give it a rest," Draco snapped. "At least we're learning something!"
Everyone stared at him. Draco blinked and made a face as if he were disgusted with himself.
"I can't believe I just defended Potter," he muttered. "That's it. I'm going mad."
"I blame Julie Andrews," said Daphne with a small smirk. "She's been playing in the Slytherin Common Room and we can't find the source. Hard to keep our negative, prissy outlook on life with "Spoonful of Sugar" playing on repeat every few hours."
"If I have to hear "Getting to Know You" one more time I'm going to spew," Draco groaned and face-planted his desk. He slid his textbook over to Blaise. "Here, hit me with this as hard as you can."
"You've got Julie Andrews?" asked Justin Finch-Fletchly. "We have Elton John. I don't mind it, but the boys in Seventh Year tore the Common Room apart looking for the source. No luck."
"You either love or hate him," said Hannah. "I love him."
"We have Dolly Parton in Ravenclaw," Anthony Goldstein volunteered.
"Selena," Ron sighed.
Cedric definitely set all that up. It would probably take Hermione's magic vision to find the source of the music. Harry was pretty good at tuning things out, so he didn't notice the music after the first two days.
"Right," he said, setting the chalk down. "Before he left, Cedric gave me a bunch of notes on the O.W.L.s. There will be a written portion that is cumulative of our first five years of school and then a practical portion that will cover spells we learned starting from Year Three since our first couple years are mostly textbook anyway. All spells tested are random, but I did some asking around of the older years; Tabatha, Shaylyn, Cedric, Angelina, and Saoirse all told me what practical spells they remember. At the end of the practical there will be an opportunity for extra credit, so if you don't do written portions well, then you can ask for the extra credit and they usually ask you to perform the toughest spell you know. Something tells me a fair few of you would be able to get some bonus points by casting a corporeal patronus. I bet even a funnel could get you half credit.
"Anyway, I wrote ten of those practical spells on the board for us to go over today and we'll go over the next ten next time. For your regular study time, I put together these study guides that contain things the examiners are most likely to go over. It isn't comprehensive, it's just a jumping point and a template of sorts. I recommend working in small groups and expanding them on your own time. We can break down trick questions and review laws that correspond with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement another time. Daphne, could you please pass out these study guides?"
"Certainly, Professor Potter," she said with an amused gleam in her eye.
Harry felt his ears warm and a grin spread on his face like butter. He found he rather liked the title despite already telling Professor McGonagall he wanted to be an Auror. Then again, he might need a few years in the field before they would allow him to teach. Clearing his throat, he moved on with the lesson.
"A couple of you might already remember some of these from when Tonks taught us last year," he said. "Others are creature specific. I hear they usually bring in a XXX-level creature for us to air-quote "defeat". I think it might just be an illusion so that if we fail then we won't actually get hurt, the only exception to this being a Boggart. I read the testing rules and, if one of the testings is a boggart and you know it's something that might actually physically harm you like Hermione's boggart, then you can just tell your instructor and they'll provide an alternate test."
"Granger's boggart was a bunch of clouds," said Zacharias Smith.
"Yeah, at first," said Harry. "Professor Lupin told me that when she faced it a second time it tried to drown her. I hear that when exposed to a lot of fear, Boggarts can actually grow to become a XXXXX-Level and start eating people. One attacked the fifth year class that year wanting to eat them."
Their eyes grew wide and Harry figured it might be good to move on.
"For now, let's focus on these spells. I recommend copying what I have here on the board down in your notes. I'll leave them up until the end of class, and if you can't see, then feel free to come up to copy them down. Once we understand the spells and their uses, I think we should be able to move on to actually practicing them."
"You're not allowed to use magic," said Pansy snidely. "It's against the rules!"
"Oh, well, then I'm sure our O.W.L. examiners will be so completely understanding when you refuse to take the practical portion. I'm sure you could manage to scrape by with an Acceptable if you do perfectly on the written portion. If you don't like how I teach, the door's over there."
"Ten points from Gryffindor!" she said, tapping her Inquisitor Squad badge insistently.
"We don't have ten points," said Neville with an eye roll.
"See this?" said Harry, holding up a ceramic cat he'd plucked off the desk. "This represents how much I care." He chucked it out the open window. "Look at it go. Now, if you will please, I'd like to get on with the lesson."
Pansy looked dumbstruck and was too mad to say anything else as Harry started his lecture. He had them all get out their wands and practiced the motions of the spells with them without actually casting.
"Not so big," he said, noticing quite a bit of flourishing. "Only Transfiguration magic requires big movements because you have to cover a wider area. If any of you have seen Hermione, or anyone else with proper training, fight, you would notice that she keeps light on her feet." He demonstrated moving around on his toes, balling his hands into fists and holding them in front of his face.
"Her arms are closer together, she's protecting her center and when she strikes—" he did a quick one-two jab— "She immediately returns to this position. Defensive spells are exactly the same. Most spells will require you to keep light on your feet, your wand level with your heart, and when you strike, you're ready to bring it back quickly to cast a protective charm. You might actually notice that the protego charm can be cast with an up and down movement or a forward and back movement in order to maximize efficiency. If we're all just waving our wands around in a big show then we're more likely to get hurt."
He sighed. "I really wish I could record some professional duels for you so you could see it first hand. Remember last year? Viktor, Fleur, Cedric, all of them won, or at least had a stalemate, because they protected their cores, kept their movements tight, and saved energy." He rapped the blackboard with his wand. "And protego is the first spell we'll work on, the second will be the stunning spell so that when we're ready to actually cast them, we can work on a back and forth sparring session. One person stuns, the other blocks and vice versa—"
"Hem hem!"
Harry looked over at the entrance of the classroom. Umbridge was standing there rigidly and in complete disarray. Her hair and clothes were rumpled and she had dark circles under her eyes.
"Mr. Potter," she said. "What on Earth do you think you're doing?"
Remember what Cedric said. Play dumb.
"Er… Who's Potter?" he asked. Wait, not that dumb.
Most of his peers laughed as if he had made some clever joke and that served only to make Umbridge angrier.
"I meant to say," Harry corrected, "that we are having a study hall since you've been so busy putting the school back in order."
"Have you now?" she said. "And… have you been using the safe, Ministry-approved learning material?"
"Will the O.W.L.s reflect the safe, Ministry-approved learning material?" he countered defiantly. "I can't imagine they would be terribly happy about having to test unprepared students."
"Let me make something quite clear," Umbridge snipped. "There is nothing out there! Nothing is going to attack you! He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is not, nor will he ever—"
"He's back!" Luna shouted, bursting into the classroom.
Her arms were laden with different sorts of newspapers and magazines, which she started passing out.
"You-Know-Who has been sighted attempting to break into the Ministry of Magic! He and Dumbledore had a battle of the most epic proportions! A Cedric imposter was there and apparently he killed or seriously harmed at least eight Death Eaters by himself! Those injured and unable to escape were taken into custody and admitted to conspiracy under veritaserum!"
Harry took the newspaper from her and saw a picture of Voldemort on the front page. Flying above him was Cedric, who looked manic. Grinning madly and tossing what looked like a crystal ball from hand to hand.
"ENOUGH! CRUCIO!"
A jet of red light hit Luna, the girl writhed on the ground and screamed.
"STUPEFY!" Two separate stunners sent Umbridge flying back.
Harry lowered his wand, knelt down by Luna, and helped her sit up. She was struck silent and started rocking back and forth. He remembered Hermione doing that after her memories were restored. He'd never seen Luna go non-verbal like this before and it scared him. He looked up to see who else struck Umbridge. Standing in the doorway was none other than Viktor Zdravkov, wand raised and expression fierce. Standing behind him were several wizards in official looking robes.
"See?" said Viktor. "It is as I told you. Dolores Umbridge silences her students through use of excessive force and unforgivable curses. I believe that with the evidence I have presented and what just took place here and now, we can convict her for child-endangerment, use of illegal magic, and conspiracy."
Umbridge picked herself up and drew herself to her full height, lifting her chin indignantly.
"Why don't you go back to playing your silly little games, Mr. Krum?" she sneered. "You have no jurisdiction here! And who are these? Some teammates in disguise, no doubt? Do you really think you have any business telling me what to do?"
Viktor narrowed his eyes. "I made it my business when you tortured my friends."
"There's no proof that I laid a finger on that wolf," Umbridge retorted. "It is my word against yours."
"Actually, it is your word against yours," said Viktor, taking out a voice recorder. He pressed play and turned up the volume.
"I was trying to help him! Professor Sprout and Bailey's roommates saw that!"
"Do you really think the Ministry will care about the testimony of little boys and an old witch?" Umbridge had laughed. "I have the Minister himself in my pocket! It is my word against yours. The world won't miss one werewolf. Now… what shall my story be? Oh, Minister! The wolf attacked me! He said he was going to turn more students for Greyback's pack at the next full moon, but I stopped him. He had gone quite feral, you see. Unfortunately, we had to have him Kissed."
"No…" came Cedric's fearful voice. "You don't have the authority to release dementors!"
Umbridge's laugh responded. "Don't I? I released two to go after that Potter brat. Perhaps I'll try again after I finish you off. But first… I think we ought to let Filch try some of those punishments he's been wanting to instate. After all, we must test these things to their limits before approving them."
The classroom listened in silent horror. Harry gaped at Umbridge. She tried to hurt him and Clarisse? That's why she was insistent they gloss over any actual evidence!
"HERMIONE HELP ME!"
There was a beat, then Umbridge laughed and started casting spells.
A few people started crying at the sound of Cedric being tortured, so Viktor stopped the tape and pocketed it, though there was certainly more to it.
"We have more than just your confession," he said. "We have video recordings of what has been going on here. I showed them to some key wixen of the I.C.W. and they have sent Aurors to handle the situation. This is beyond your Ministry, Umbridge. I only wish someone had done this for me where Karkaroff was involved." He nodded at the people he brought with them. "Thank you for allowing me this closure."
Umbridge brandished her wand and the class ducked down behind their desks. Harry stood in front of Luna. Umbridge was quickly and easily apprehended. Viktor waved at the Aurors as they dragged the evil woman out of the room. He walked over to Harry and patted him on the shoulder.
"I am sorry I took so long, my friend," he said. "But without evidence, there was nothing I could do."
"I understand," said Harry, slightly mystified that Viktor called him 'friend' and had come to help him. He looked back down at the newspaper in his hands. "Does this mean Cedric can come back and finish his N.E.W.T.s?"
Viktor cringed. "I… I was at Diagon Alley this morning… the wanted posters. They are still calling for Cedric's arrest. Murder, inciting chaos, and thievery. The new Minister may decide to drop charges, but considering the amount of prejudice there is against werewolves, I think the best we can hope for is for them to remove the Kiss on Sight order and give him a chance to prove his innocence."
"But… he's innocent!" stammered Luna. "We heard the tape, he didn't kill Bailey and Umbridge admitted that. And… and it was a full moon last night! Look at this picture! If he had been cured, he would have said so! And— and— and who cares about those— those Death Eat– Eaters anyway?!"
She plunked back onto the ground and started crying. That's right… Cedric and Luna were cousins. Harry remembered how Cedric looked out for her and was the only person who could call her "Loony" without it sounding cruel. He looked at the other fifth years who were peeking out from under their desks.
"I think… I think we'll just go over this next time," he said. "Let's take Luna to the kitchens, Viktor. The elves are still on strike, but they won't stop us from helping ourselves to some tea."
"Yes, of course," said Viktor, helping Luna to her feet.
The portable swamp was gone, probably removed by the Aurors. Nobody was in class, all crowding into clusters to discuss the articles in all periodicals delivered that day. Collin Creevey approached the both of them.
"Harry!" he said, breathlessly. "Dumbledore is in his office and he wants to see you!"
Harry blinked with surprise, and instead of relief like he would have normally felt, all that filled his stomach was dread. He looked at Viktor.
"I will take Miss Luna to the kitchens for tea," he said. "You go see Dumbledore." He leaned over and whispered in Harry's ear. "Cedric gave me message for you in event Dumbledore returned. He said: Albus will only tell the truth that conveniences him."
Harry furrowed his brow and nodded, changing directions to get to the Headmaster's Office. Was Dumbledore a liar? No… Cedric said he tells the truth, just not the whole truth… Frankly, Harry didn't think he should be happy to see Dumbledore. He would have been fine with being expelled! That's all Fudge wanted to do to a couple kids. Sirius would have paid for him to go to a different school! A better school. They talked about the Salem Institute of Magic in Oregon or perhaps even Beauxbatons if they offered lessons in English. Cedric was hoping to get expelled because it meant he'd be free and wouldn't feel guilty over leaving the kids that had needed him.
The gargoyle stepped aside for him without need of a password. Something was different about that thing, but Harry couldn't dwell. The office itself had been repaired, though the spray paint remained and the portraits were crooked as if they'd been carelessly returned upright. The subjects of those portraits were muttering amongst each other about the chaos that took place and how something like this never would have happened during their days as Head of the school.
Dumbledore was sitting at his desk. He didn't look well, but Harry really didn't care at the moment.
"Hello, Harry," he said. "Have a seat."
Harry sat down and dropped his bag to the floor.
"So," he said bitterly. "You're back, but Cedric isn't. Who was it again that told us that everything would work out and be fine?"
"You have every right to be angry, Harry," said Dumbledore.
"Oh, I'm well past that," Harry snarled and threw the newspaper down on the desk. "What is this? Why is Cedric stealing from the Ministry?"
"And what makes you think I had anything to do about that?"
"Because why would he do something like that unless you asked him?! Unless you promised that he would be alright? And for what? This…" he looked at the article and skimmed it. "A prophecy? A fake prophecy? What was even the point? To lure Voldemort out? You put his life in danger so that people would believe that I wasn't a nut?"
"I doubt even the best Seer could have predicted what happened that evening," said Dumbledore. "The plan was just to keep everyone away from the Ministry for two hours and then lure them back. Mr. Diggory made the decision to stall and reveal Voldemort, though I am not sure how he knew to keep an empty crystal ball on his person. See, the prophecy that he stole was quite real and it had everything to do with Lord Voldemort. That is why you were receiving those visions, Harry. Because Voldemort believed only he or you could retrieve it."
Harry blinked slowly and settled back into his seat. He needed to calm down and clear his mind. Listen to Dumbledore's words and guide the conversation in the right direction. Pick the right questions and piece together the half-truths. What would Hermione do?
"Let's start with what we do know," he said. "We know that my scar was given to me by Voldemort. We know that it acts like a… like a radio antenna. I can pick up what Voldemort is feeling or when he's close by. This reception has been stronger since my blood was used to resurrect him. He probably knew that this bond would allow him to send me visions so he could try to manipulate me and make me feel isolated. Isn't that right?"
"Precisely why I wanted Professor Snape to give you Occlumency lessons," said Dumbledore. "I had hoped he would set aside his own personal biases in order to protect you."
Harry snorted incredulously.
"You think the man who has made it his life's mission to humiliate me and belittle me at every possible chance would be the best person to go through my head?" Harry felt a small push and narrowed his eyes. He brought up the "YMCA" until he felt the push subside moments later.
"I see now that perhaps I was only seeing what I wished to see," said Dumbledore, tapping his fingers to the beat of the song. "That deep down, Professor Snape did care about the safety and well-being of his students in his own… prickly way."
This felt like a trick. A way to keep Harry distracted so he wouldn't press for the truth.
"Cedric was a great teacher," he said coldly. "What I want to know is what my scar has to do with this prophecy you sent him to…" He looked at the article and frowned, silently reading through it. "The Department of Mysteries… that door. Is… is this what Mr. Weasley died guarding?!"
"Harry, many Order members were protecting the prophecy."
"And yet my best friend's father was the only one who died!" Harry felt his skin prickle. He jumped to his feet and paced around the room. This… this stupid room filled with awards and gifts for accomplishments. What was the point of being so accomplished if you made stupid decisions? "If you were planning on stealing it anyway then… then why the hell did he have to die?! Why didn't you take it sooner? Pull some favors. You're supposedly all powerful—"
"I never claimed to be—"
"YOU NEVER CLAIMED NOT TO BE EITHER!" Harry gripped the sides of his head, feeling anger that wasn't entirely his own. GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT! Whatever force was trying to make a place in his head was blasted away. The anger that was left was his. The betrayal was his. The despair was his. "Mr. Weasley didn't have to die…. Cedric didn't have to be a player in your game."
"He made the decision to steal the prophecy."
Harry grabbed the nearest and most expensive looking item and hurled it with impeccable aim. It shattered on the wall right next to Dumbledore's head. No doubt a few shards nicked him. Good. Harry was tired of this "people make their own choices" and "everything happens for a reason" bullshit. It didn't have to be this way. It shouldn't have to be this way.
"Feel free to break more objects, Harry, if it will make you feel better. I daresay I have too many things."
He wouldn't give him the satisfaction. Harry twisted the ring Hermione gave him around his finger. Once, twice, three times and a calmness settled within him. He still felt what he did, but he could focus on the important things. Dumbledore rubbed his own face with his hands and sighed, either from sadness or exhaustion, Harry didn't care. He sat back down and folded his hands in his lap. He would get to the bottom of this even if it took hours. Dumbledore said nothing for the longest time, but Harry could wait. He'd waited fifteen years for this.
Dumbledore lowered his hands and looked out the window, unable to make eye contact.
"Five years ago, you arrived at Hogwarts, Harry, safe and whole, as I planned and intended. Well—not quite whole. You had suffered. I knew you would when I left you on your aunt and uncle's doorstep. I knew I was condemning you to ten dark and difficult years."
As he continued on about the blood wards, it took all of Harry's will not to start raging again. He wasn't surprised that Dumbledore was okay with him being abused if it meant keeping him safe. Surely they could have taken him out of the country. Changed his name. It worked for Hermione, why couldn't it have worked for him? He'd never felt loved at Aunt Petunia's. Not by her or any other force. It was a place that was keen on smothering anything that made him special.
"In fact, I believe that if you needed to before you turn seventeen you would still be able to find refuge at the Dursleys."
"I'd rather take my chances with the Death Eaters," Harry snipped back. "I could have been with Sirius the whole time. He did that blood pact with my dad. Why didn't you see fit to look into his case? Why would you believe he would turn on my mum and dad, his only family, so easily?"
"Yet another one of my many mistakes," he said.
"Hermione was fourteen, never met the man, and knew something was odd!"
"Alas, I am not Hermione."
"That's for sure. If you were, Voldemort would have never gotten the chance to rise to power."
Dumbledore ignored the biting comment and rehashed Harry's first four years. Facing Voldemort beneath the school in a video game style dungeon run, sacrificing himself his second year so the Basilisk and Tom could be defeated, facing a hundred dementors to save Sirius his third year, and then the whole Tournament debacle last year. What he failed to mention was how many other people had been involved. How he'd had Ron's help, Ginny's help, Hermione's, Cedric's, the visiting Castelobruxo students, and even just today Viktor's help in removing Umbridge. And yet all these scenarios somehow fell within a plan Dumbledore had that he didn't see fit to share with anyone else.
"Do you see the flaw in my plan, Harry?"
There was more than one? Harry blinked slowly and refrained from answering.
"I cared about you too much," said Dumbledore simply. "I cared more for your happiness than your knowing the truth, more for your peace of mind than my plan, more for your life than the lives that might be lost if the plan failed. In other words, I acted exactly as Voldemort expects we fools who love to act.
"Is there a Defense? I defy anyone who has watched you as I have — and I have watched you more closely than you can have imagined — not to want to save you more pain than you had already suffered. What did I care if numbers of nameless and faceless people and creatures were slaughtered in the vague future, if in the here and now you were alive, and well, and happy? I never dreamed that I would have such a person on my hands.
"And now, I know you have long been ready for the knowledge I have kept from you for so long, because you have proved that I should have placed the burden upon you before this. My only Defense is this: I have watched you struggling under more burdens than any student who has ever passed through this school and I could not bring myself to add another—the greatest one of all."
Harry was pretty sure Cedric had faced more burdens in the last month, but if he spoke now then Dumbledore's mind might be changed.
"This prophecy is about me and Voldemort." It was a statement, not a question.
"Yes. And no."
"It's a prophecy. There is no either or."
"Voldemort set out to kill you when you were still a baby, believing he was fulfilling the terms of the prophecy. He discovered, to his cost, that he was mistaken, when the curse intended to kill you backfired. And so, since his return to his body, and particularly since your extraordinary escape from him last year, he has been determined to hear that prophecy in its entirety. This is the weapon he has been seeking so assiduously since his return: the knowledge of how to destroy you."
"So… did Cedric give you the prophecy to give to me?"
"I have not seen him since he left the Ministry last night," he said. "However, he made me promise to tell you the prophecy."
"Okay, tell me," said Harry.
Dumbledore rested his hands on his desk as if he were about to get up, then thought better of it. He closed his eyes and recited, "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..."
It almost sounded like there would be more, but Dumbledore opened his eyes and nodded.
"That's it?" said Harry.
"That's it."
Harry mulled the words over. He might have let Dumbledore explain it to him, but he found he didn't want the old wizard's explanation. Who's to say that his interpretation of it was the right one? He wanted a second opinion. He wanted to talk about it with Sirius, with Hermione, hell, he'd even ask Viktor his opinion, as much as the guy hated being asked about fortune telling, if it meant he didn't have to sit in here much longer.
"Does Voldemort know the whole thing?"
"Thankfully, he does not. He only heard the first half, which led him to mark you as his equal. Cedric took the copy the Ministry had as well as the written copy."
"So… does this mean… that I'm the Chosen One?" he asked. It didn't seem right. "I don't have any special powers. I can't read minds like Cedric or see magic like Hermione. I'm not a strategist like Ron or a Basilisk-Slayer like Ginny. What do I have? What on earth makes me so special?"
"There is a room in the Department of Mysteries," said Dumbledore, "that is kept locked at all times. It contains a force that is at once more wonderful and more terrible than death, than human intelligence, than the forces of nature. It is also, perhaps, the most mysterious of the many subjects for study that reside there. It is the power held within that room that you possess in such quantities and which Voldemort has not at all. Perhaps it is why he has so much trouble connecting with you for too long as you are filled with the force which he so detests. In the end, it mattered not that you could not close your mind. It was your heart that saved you. Your ability to love."
"A bit more information couldn't hurt."
Dumbledore nodded. "I no longer fear Voldemort spying on us through your eyes so long as you continue your Occlumency practice. At the start of the next school year, I will do my best to prepare you by telling you more about Tom Riddle's past. The past can tell a lot about the future. For now, I think it best you try and focus on your O.W.L.s."
None of this made sense. Harry felt as if he were watching the end of a very complicated movie. He left Dumbledore's office feeling more frustrated than ever, but when he felt Dumbledore try to slip into his mind to get a peek he only pushed positive thoughts towards the man. A hope that he was finally able to start doing something, start contributing. All he felt really was sick and betrayed and left out. He wasn't being given the whole story and he sincerely hoped that somebody would.
Feeling worse than ever, he went down to dinner. He and Dumbledore had talked for so long for there to be so little to say. He entered the Great Hall and was quite happy to see that Viktor was still there. He was sitting with Luna, and Ginny had joined them. Fans loitered around and first years were clutching scraps of paper as they were not here last year when the famous Seeker was signing annuals. Harry sat down across from Viktor.
"I'm surprised you're still here," said Harry.
Viktor shrugged.
"He's waiting to surprise Esperanza," said Luna. There was still a slight tremor in her voice, but she was no longer rocking. "Apparently, she's on tour and they managed to be booked in Glasgow. So Viktor is surprising her by showing up to her concert."
"Ah."
"There you are, Harry," said Ron, taking his seat. He looked at Viktor and for an instant Harry thought he was going to be petty. "Viktor… new hairstyle?"
Viktor's hair had grown longer showing a bit of curl to it. He'd also grown in a sculpted beard. He looked good. Buffer, like Cedric had been before he was infected.
"Relatively," he said and turned his attention back to Harry. "I have been chatting with house-elves. Offering to publicly support their fight for rights. And Luna and I were having nice chat."
"It was nice," Luna confirmed.
"I figured I would stay for dinner, make sure that nothing else here needs my attention before I go to surprise my swan," he finished. "Did it go fine with Dumbledore?"
"Dumbledore's back?" said Ron.
"Yeah, he's in his office," said Harry, stabbing at his chicken. "I think… I dunno what to think. I don't really know where to go from here. Normally by this time of year something huge has happened that I was in the middle of and it didn't happen. Instead, Cedric took that role and now I fear that he won't be able to return. It's terrifying."
"I can think of something scarier," said Viktor.
"Yeah? What's that?"
"Who is going to tell Nia?"
Harry's fork slipped from his grasp and clattered on the table.
"Ah…"