CHAPTER 56: DISILLUSIONS
Matthew wished he could believe it, but he also knew that Dumbledore would react very differently once he knew the sad truth. Perhaps even his father would treat him the same way he had treated Harry upon realizing that his precious son was not meant to be the one prophesied... A glance toward James and the reassuring smile he tried to maintain did little to reassure him. Lowering his gaze to his covers, which he clutched as if it were a piece of driftwood in the middle of the ocean, he spoke again:
"He said that... That I wasn't... That it wasn't me he wanted, that it was another, that I wasn't the chosen one!" he exclaimed, almost feeling his eyes moisten further.
Matthew never looked up at them, but the silence that accompanied his words made him briefly think, for a second, that he was suddenly alone in the infirmary, and that this conversation had been merely a product of his imagination. Oh, how he wished for that, to believe for a moment that this was all a dream, that the events of the previous day had never happened, and that the final task of the tournament would start in a few hours... Oh yes, he would have loved that escape from a reality that hurt him, from the silence from Dumbledore, his father, and his godfather, which he interpreted as a sign of deep disappointment, disaffection towards him, a manifest guilt that they would try to put on him for not being the chosen one on whom all hopes of a disillusioned magical community rested too confidently in their champion's abilities...
"I... I'm afraid I don't understand," Dumbledore faltered for the first time. "Could you repeat what you just said?"
"He said that I wasn't the chosen one!" he replied a second time, losing patience. "Your chosen one, your champion, the one who defeated him thirteen years ago, the one you trained all these years, believing a lie!"
"Matthew, come on, Voldemort might have just tried to sow doubt in you to gain psychological leverage..."
"No!" insisted the young man as some heads began turning from the other beds and Sirius reinforced the silencing spell. "He mentioned Harry, and said it was he who had deflected his curse, not me! How could he know that and claim it if it wasn't indeed him who defeated him that night!?"
"That doesn't prove anything," Dumbledore persisted in a firmer voice. "Explain to us the evidence Voldemort put forward to assert that you are not the chosen one."
"He... He recounted the events of that Samhain evening from the moment when Wormtail showed him where we lived!" he said, as tremors began to appear in his voice and his throat tightened with emotion. "He said he first defeated Dad, then headed upstairs to where Mom was... Then, he got rid of her and wanted to come after us, starting with the one who would certainly cause him the least trouble: Me!"
"And then?" Dumbledore asked, a genuine curiosity emerging in his voice.
"And then?" repeated Matthew, a disbelieving snort escaping him. "And then? He cast the killing curse at me, but Harry stepped in and deflected it back at him! That's it, end of story!"
"Impossible..." muttered the Hogwarts headmaster as Sirius, for the first time, seemed incapable of making any sarcastic comment.
"Oh, it's true, and I can even tell you he's convinced!" the Gryffindor affirmed. "He made it clear that that night, it was a child who could talk to him that defeated him, not a baby, and that child should now be older than the one who faced him yesterday evening!"
"It can't be possible!" said Dumbledore, raising his voice slightly. "There were only you and your mother in that room that night! I know because I arrived shortly after! The roof of the room had collapsed, and amid the debris, there was only you, your mother, and the remnants of Voldemort's robe..."
"He... Harry was there too," James suddenly interjected in a monotonous voice.
All eyes turned to him, but James continued to stare at Matthew's blankets without even flinching; His son had the strong impression that he was reliving, for the first time, the events of that October 31st evening, like an old memory that had been buried deep within his mind for ages, now being unearthed and restored by removing the accumulated dust.
"I can't confirm it, but Lily, she... She took care of him that night," he narrated, nervously running a hand through his hair. "She found him under the rubble in the room, bleeding profusely from his head... But I hadn't paid any attention to it. I was too happy to know that my younger son had defeated Voldemort to even notice that detail."
"This is absurd," objected Dumbledore fiercely. "All these pieces of evidence are just a collection of coincidences that do not fit together, coming from the words of a dark wizard trying to sow confusion in our minds."
"How then could he have known about Harry's existence when everyone today has forgotten that I had an older brother?" Matthew insisted. "Even you, I'm certain that if I were to ask you today how many members were in my family, you'd probably have gotten the number wrong, or it would have taken you some time to give the right answer!"
"Matthew, I would ask you to refrain from pointing fingers at me and speaking in that tone," the headmaster gravely interjected as the young man immediately lowered his arm. "As for your question, perhaps the last memories of that night for Voldemort include your brother in them, but maybe even for him, they are now muddled."
The uncertain tone of the headmaster did nothing to ease the situation, and instead of reassuring them, Dumbledore only deepened the doubts slowly creeping into James and Sirius's minds, or further reinforced them in Matthew's. Mad-Eye remained silent, his two eyes fixed on the old man as if suddenly fascinated by him... or by the ramblings coming out of his mouth.
"My intuition has never failed me so far, and I am not going to start questioning the judgment I had thirteen years ago just because a dark wizard would cast doubt on the status of the one who defeated him," Dumbledore persisted. "Furthermore, the only people who could explain to us in detail the events that occurred in that room are not here to speak to us or were far too young to remember, which includes you, Matthew. Moreover, all the clues point in the same direction and point to you: the month of birth, the scar that marks you as his equal, the status of the parents..."
"Harry was also born at the end of July," the young Gryffindor reminded then. "Until further notice, we have the same parents, and he also has a scar on his head since our encounter with Voldemort!"
Far from conceding defeat, Dumbledore was already preparing to counter and challenge his evidence, but Sirius's voice cut him short:
"There might be ways to know the truth," he tentatively suggested. "We could reconsider the question and find a way to know if indeed Voldemort could have been telling the truth or if this is part of a twisted plan to, as you say, 'sow confusion.' What do you think?"
"If you have a solution to propose, then I'm listening, Sirius," invited Dumbledore with a hint of mockery in his voice.
"I don't know," confessed the auror. "We could... We could use Veritaserum on Matthew to see if he is the chosen one or not? Or perhaps you could delve into his memories and go back to that night..."
"How do you expect Matthew to answer your question under the influence of Veritaserum if he has no recollection of that confrontation?" the headmaster pointed out, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes. "This potion is meant to extract the truth from someone, but when that person themselves doesn't know the answer to the question, they can easily invent it or highlight their total ignorance on the subject. As for your second suggestion, indeed, we could use it on him, but a baby's memory is very volatile and unstable... the memory would be fragmented with significant gaps in places... Just imagine a piece of fabric, but a piece missing or so damaged that it is rendered useless in making any garment... A very young child's memory works like this: it's selective, it memorizes the essentials and easily forgets the rest, so imagine that of a baby. A child learns through gestures, through movement, sounds, but they retain no memory of the experiences from their earliest years. Tell me: Do you have a memory of your first birthday? The moment you learned to walk? Of your nurses changing your diapers?"
Matthew saw his godfather's expression change drastically in a matter of seconds, enough time for him to attempt recalling the first years of his life on his own, only to realize he was utterly incapable of doing so.
"We could still try," James firmly intervened after a moment of silence. "We have nothing to lose after all, and it will definitively resolve this issue for us."
"I fail to see the point in doing so when there's nothing to prove," countered Dumbledore. "We should instead refocus immediately on the fight against Voldemort and the initial steps to be taken against him..."
"Oh, but Director, it's of paramount importance to know whether or not Matthew is the chosen one and whether or not we've been barking up the wrong tree all this time," Matthew's father retorted. "How do you propose to fight Voldemort if we don't have the right chosen one at our disposal?"
Matthew was surprised by his father's analysis, particularly by the logic in his words. Moreover, he felt that James was trying to influence the director by sowing doubt, a feeling that solidified when he spoke again.
"Why show such hesitation?" he asked with feigned surprise. "Are you afraid of what you might discover?"
Dumbledore shot him a piercing look, and for a brief moment, Matthew thought he might use his wand. The old wizard looked at his father with such anger that Matthew was certain he had never seen him act this way before.
Briefly turning his head, Matthew felt his godfather shared the same thought, and though his right hand casually hung near his pocket, it inched closer to the magical wand within, ready to use it if necessary. As for Moody, he continued to observe the exchange in silence, but Matthew couldn't shake the notion that unlike his eyes, the former auror seemed... joyful? A feeling, at least, that had always been foreign to him, at least in the time he had known him.
"Very well," Dumbledore exclaimed, losing the last remnants of tranquility within him. "I will do it, then we shall refocus on the war against Voldemort, and I hope these childish disputes will cease once and for all!"
"It's precisely about the direction to take in this conflict," James patiently reminded him. "If we wage a war with the wrong general, we might very well lose it..."
Strangely, hearing from his father's own mouth that he might potentially be the wrong general hurt more than he initially thought, like a stark reminder of the potential consequences of this discovery on their relationship. Would he now be "the wrong one"? The mistake? The failure in James's eyes? Viewed in that light, he already began regretting his choice to disclose everything; perhaps he should have waited and weighed the pros and cons of his decision before plunging headfirst into a direction over which he would have no control...
Suddenly, he felt the same sensation on his skull as the one endured the previous day when Voldemort had penetrated his mind. Everything turned black again, at least before memories surged before his eyes for a brief moment before others succeeded them. He noticed, though, that Dumbledore lingered for a long time on his encounter with Voldemort, seemingly avoiding having to hear Matthew talk about that dreadful night. Yet, his pupil mostly felt a sense of discomfort, realizing he had also seen undeniable evidence of his own cowardice in the face of danger.
"I'll have a hard time justifying myself now," he thought as other memories infiltrated his mind.
Matthew felt as though minutes were passing quickly, and Dumbledore had been in his mind for a long while now. But as time went on, the memories became more distant, brief, sometimes merely a whirlwind of colors. Perhaps the headmaster was right: it was likely very challenging to analyze the memories of a young child.
Yet, Dumbledore eventually reached the evening of October 31st. Although this memory appeared as blurry as the others, it was still easy to trace its progression and even recognize some voices heard by Matthew's tiny ears. Voldemort's voice, cold and mocking that evening, his mother's desperate and imploring tone, his own cries amidst the surrounding chaos... And the firm yet small voice of his brother before something intervened, deflecting the curse aimed at him.
The pressure on his head disappeared then, and Matthew blinked several times before realizing he was back in the infirmary. Sirius, James, and Mad-Eye were still there, each of them watching the other expectantly for a reaction or a comment that might guide them. But while Matthew remained more or less the same, Dumbledore seemed significantly changed, evident consternation and dejection etched onto his face.
"So?" James inquired, as Dumbledore persisted in his silence, his right hand covering his face as he rubbed his forehead painfully.
"As I said, the... The memories were blurry, imprecise..." the old wizard stammered.
"And?" pressed Matthew's father.
"There... There's an anomaly in how we've perceived that evening," Dumbledore concluded weakly. "I saw the light emitted by the killing curse heading towards Matthew, but something suddenly intervened, and... Another light appeared, more powerful and dazzling than the first. There was then an explosion, and the roof of the room collapsed..."
A heavy, relentless silence filled the air, charged with an underlying tension that grew with each passing second. James and Sirius looked at the wizard with obvious shock, one with an open mouth, the other wide-eyed, both the perfect caricature of someone hearing surprising news. The headmaster himself appeared disheartened, and the look of disappointment he cast in Matthew's direction was eloquent enough for him to understand that his mentor, his teacher, his lifeline had just come to the realization that he had been wrong from the start, and what stood before him was just the formal proof of his personal folly.
"So Voldemort wasn't lying," James finally affirmed in a low, harsh tone. "All this time, you've chosen the wrong chosen one! All this time, we've followed your absurd plans, your manipulations, and delusional schemes just to train a child who isn't ultimately destined to defeat Voldemort... All this time, you've only misled us, lied to us!"
"James, my boy..." Dumbledore weakly attempted, but immediately stopped when the aforementioned James continued his tirade.
"I sacrificed my family life for you!" he complained, staring coldly at the headmaster. "I followed every single one of your recommendations regarding Matthew's education, the maneuvers to ensure your plans unfolded smoothly at the Wizengamot and elsewhere! I even let you dip into the family fortune to fund your schemes, and all for nothing!"
"Your anger misguides you, James," the headmaster retorted more firmly. "We might have picked the wrong survivor, but the decisions we've made to overcome the difficulties we'd face during the war remain, and this little setback won't prevent us from successfully concluding this conflict..."
"What decisions?" James skeptically inquired. "As far as I know, nothing has worked properly so far!"
"The Order of the Phoenix still exists by our efforts, our informant network is still operational, and we have enough funds to sustain ourselves economically if this conflict drags on..."
"Perhaps the Order of the Phoenix still exists, but how many new members have we gained since the last war?" James countered. "We were fighting at a ratio of 1 to 10 back then, and we've never made up for our losses! Your informant network remains operational because it consists solely of these same members! As for the funds you possess, should I remind you that it's the gold from my Gringott's vaults and Sirius's? I could cut off your resources just as easily, and you'd immediately find yourself in want!"
"Is that a threat?" Dumbledore retorted, furrowing his brow.
The old man's uninviting tone seemed to instantly deflate James' anger, and under the headmaster's gaze, Matthew's father seemed to revert to facing the Hogwarts director as a mere student.
"I... No, of course not," he weakly stammered, trying to keep his composure. "I pledged back then to do everything to eliminate the threat posed by Voldemort, and I haven't swayed from that decision since... It's just that... Try to understand, Professor, this information, coupled with all the previous ones, is just another error added to those made in the past!"
"Do you think I am not aware of that myself, James? Do you think I'm delighted to discover that a new hiccup has once again disrupted our plans and delayed our imminent victory? Do you even think this situation brings me joy? I didn't have enough with running a school, organizing and supervising a tournament, and constantly trying to correct the Ministry of Magic to prevent it from leaning too far to the other side, and now this information shuffles all the cards we have in our hands..."
Again, Dumbledore allowed a few seconds to pass, giving himself time to think about new plans he could quickly organize to address this problem, and for Matthew to feel like a burden in his eyes.
"The first thing to do is to find this boy, Harry..." Dumbledore continued. "Do you have any idea where he might be?"
"Probably with his mother," James bitterly affirmed. "When you asked us to separate from him until he turned eleven and entered Hogwarts, she and I agreed to send him to her sister. I don't know where she lives, but I know it's in London. But since then, I think Lily must have gone to get him and fled with him."
"Nevertheless, that's still a good starting point," said Dumbledore. "They might still be in contact, and perhaps his sister knows where she lives now. So, we should begin by searching for her address through the appropriate Muggle authorities."
"What about the letters that were supposed to be addressed to Harry and his sister?" Sirius interjected. "Normally, when they turned eleven, the Hogwarts letter should have been sent to them, like everyone else... Their home address should have been written on the paper..."
"Except that in the absence of information about their place of residence, the only information written on the envelope were their respective names and surnames," the headmaster informed them. "Twice, the letters were sent out like the others, and at the time, I thought that by reaching their recipients, we could, in turn, find your wife, James. But each time, the owl returned with the letter, and none of them were opened."
"Could it be that they're dead?" James then asked, without apparent emotion in his voice.
"I hope not, and to be honest, I don't think so," Dumbledore assured him. "After all, if something had happened to her children, I'm convinced that Lily, not finding anyone else competent enough to save them, would have sought help in the first place that came to mind, and if it wasn't at your place, James, it's certainly within the walls of this castle."
Curiously, Matthew felt that Dumbledore was trying to reassure himself with his words, but despite this, he couldn't help but doubt their truthfulness. Given their antagonism, he assumed, quite rightly, that Hogwarts would be the last place his mother would seek refuge.
"When you attempted to enchant our daughter to force her to come here, she never came to Hogwarts," James reminded skeptically. "On the contrary, her condition suddenly improved, and you concluded that she must have found a way around your ritual... or be surrounded by powerful allies."
"Allies with whom she probably still resides!" Dumbledore exclaimed. "I had almost forgotten that detail... Thank you, James, that narrows our search horizon."
"So, we're looking for a woman, a man, and two children, one nearly eighteen now and the other twelve, who would know a particularly powerful wizard or witch... Indeed, our search is considerably slimmed down with these details!" Sirius quipped.
"I don't like the tone you're taking with this matter, Sirius," reprimanded Dumbledore.
"Come on, let's be serious for a minute, Professor, it's like looking for a needle in a haystack!" Sirius retorted. "They could be just as likely in this country as on the continent, or even in America! I'd bet they're the reason your owls never reached their recipient, because they're much too far away! If they're not enrolled at Hogwarts, it might be because they're elsewhere or simply homeschooled! They know someone powerful? Big deal! There are many wizards of that caliber, even within this castle!"
"Hence the reason why we'll start from the beginning, and if I'm not mistaken, that's how you operate within the Auror Corps?" Dumbledore firmly stated. "We'll start with Lily's sister, and from the information she gives us, we'll redirect our search in a new direction that will gradually lead us to our goal: Your eldest son, James."
"He briefly nodded, but the enthusiasm to see this famous son again was not there at all; years of mistreatment combined with ignorance meant he wasn't particularly thrilled to reunite with him, and Matthew didn't need to be an expert in Legilimency to guess that. The umbilical cord, if there ever was one between them, was definitively severed. 'And... What about the press?' he timidly inquired. The three others looked at him, and for the first time, Matthew felt as if he had simply been forgotten by them, judging from the surprised looks his father and Dumbledore exchanged, as if they were rediscovering his existence for the first time. 'True...' Sirius conceded.
'What shall we tell the wizarding newspaper? Their journalists are right behind the door... They're waiting to know what happened to Matthew in this third task...' Pensive, Dumbledore scratched his chin and his long beard hairs for a few seconds, his eyes unfocused as he envisioned a backup plan brilliant enough to heroically present the events of last night. 'We won't disclose anything about this conversation to the press, at least not concerning Matthew and Voldemort's revelations...' he firmly decided. 'Announcing to them that we've been wrong about the chosen one all this time could cause a panic within our community, the repercussions of which might be beyond my control. The Ministry, the press, the wizarding community... Many would demand answers that we wouldn't be able to provide. It's about our security above all, but also our credibility, which shouldn't be tarnished by a minor misjudgment... No, we mustn't say anything about it.' 'So what? Do I have to keep playing the role of the survivor in the eyes of others?' Matthew retorted, furrowing his brows. 'One would have little difficulty believing that it bothers you,' the director argued suspiciously. 'Not at all!' he affirmed immediately. 'I just find it dishonest to continue lying to them about this...' Dumbledore's suspicions only grew stronger, and faced with the inevitable, Matthew opted for the backup solution that quickly came to mind: look away. 'It will be only temporary,' his father conceded. 'Until we reunite with the rest of the family, you'll need to... play a role, in a way. The element of surprise will be less powerful if we present them with both the former survivor and the new one. Ultimately, what would scare our community the most isn't so much the absence of a chosen one, but the waiting time to transition from one to the other, so it's better to wait until we've laid our hands on your brother for that.' 'There remains one last detail to settle aside from not knowing where he is: whether or not he'll agree to fight for us,' Sirius reminded them. 'And why wouldn't he?' his father and brother have risked their lives for years against Voldemort and his followers; it would be the least he could do to come give us a hand to finish what was started!' 'Except you're forgetting an important element in this matter, James,' his best friend replied. 'I won't hide behind my role as Matthew's godfather to remind you all that we haven't been very kind or friendly towards him, if not more...
I won't go as far as to speak of mistreatment, but the line between ignorance and the few blows he received from you, my friend, is thin. That kind of upbringing, believe me, leaves marks, and if I take my personal experience, in the event my parents were still alive and asked me for help today, resentment would make me refuse them aid. If Harry still lives with the memory of the education you provided him, there's little chance he'd respond favorably to your request.' 'And if this boy possesses within him the values of courage, selflessness, and bravery of his father, he won't refuse to help our community,' Dumbledore intervened. 'And in the event he refuses our offer, we have two options: coercion by force or blackmail, or the lure of gain.' 'You mean...' James began, turning towards him. 'Offer him to return to your family,' the director said. 'If I remember correctly, you disinherited him, and it's certainly not with his mother's savings that they can survive today, so offer him money... or even the title of heir to the Potter family...' 'Hey!' exclaimed Matthew angrily. 'That title belongs to me, not him!' 'Of course,' Dumbledore agreed, smiling. 'But he doesn't need to know that all of this will be mere bluff to draw him towards us.'
"Matthew's smile reappeared on his face, but if he knew that Dumbledore's real reason for wanting him to remain as heir was because he was so easily influenced, he would have quickly lost it.
'I think it's time for an announcement now,' Dumbledore declared, standing up. 'Let's not keep the journalists crowding around Hogwarts and the students who are dying to know what happened last night waiting any longer. Everyone needs to know about Voldemort's return, and I hope Cornelius will show himself to be a better man today than he ever was before in the face of the threat before us... Of course, the rest of our conversation must not leak, and I hope you all can keep the secret.'
'I'll be as silent as a fish, Albus,' affirmed Moody, sporting a grimace that literally twisted his face, while the others nodded in agreement.
'We'll then summon the other members of the Order of the Phoenix, and we'll begin our initial search to find this boy,' the director continued. 'We'll need to act fast! I hope it yields results quickly. Alastor, come with me, my friend; your tracking skills will be very valuable for us to approach our target...'
'With pleasure, Director,' the other said, rising from his seat and adjusting his rifle behind his back.
The two men nodded at James and Sirius, but to Matthew's surprise, once again since he woke up, both of them ignored him and headed for the exit without a word. The young Gryffindor thus didn't have the chance to ask the director if there would be any changes in their relationship from now on or if he still had any usefulness in his eyes. Nor did he see Mad-Eye's magical eye whirl in its socket before fixing an uninterrupted gaze beyond the infirmary doors, a mad look on his face as the former auror swiftly drank from his flask.
No, the only thing Matthew could notice after this meeting was his father's distant gaze, a gaze that rarely landed on him even though he was once his world's center, or Sirius's clumsy attempts to lighten his godson's mood, but his heart wasn't in it... Or maybe it was because his godfather was too occupied suddenly taking an interest in the veela mother of the Beauxbatons champion, sitting with the rest of her family a few beds away from their position, and whose daughter was still asleep.
He felt strangely empty, as if his confession had somehow torn a part of himself away, a part he had voluntarily abandoned but which now left a persistent void in him, one he didn't know how to fill at the moment. Yet, one simple question lingered in his mind for which he had no answer:
Had he done the right thing by telling the truth?"
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