CHAPTER 51: THE WEIGHT OF PROPHECY

The days following the Yule Ball at the Delacour Manor were tranquil yet filled with a quiet anticipation. The usual trio of friends—Harry, Hermione, and Gabrielle—were now accompanied by a devoted Susan Bones. Although Madam Bones had originally intended to collect her niece after only one night, the unexpected events at the ball, coupled with the new security measures she was implementing at the Auror office, demanded long hours at the Ministry. Consequently, she requested the Delacours to host Susan until it was time for her to return to Hogwarts, a plan to which Jean-Sebastian and Apolline readily agreed.

Susan was a delightful addition to their group. Her intelligence and thoughtfulness allowed her to fit in seamlessly. Harry often found himself outnumbered by the girls as they discussed topics ranging from magical theory to the latest trends in wizarding fashion. Although these conversations rarely piqued his interest, he found solace in the companionship and the rare moments of levity they provided.

One afternoon, as the group lounged in the sunlit drawing room, Hermione initiated a discussion about the upcoming school term. "So, what subjects are you most excited for this year, Susan?"

Susan, who was sitting on a plush armchair, thought for a moment before responding. "I think I'm looking forward to Advanced Transfiguration the most. Professor McGonagall hinted that we'll be working on human transfiguration, which sounds challenging but fascinating."

Gabrielle, perched on the edge of the sofa, nodded enthusiastically. "I can't wait for Potions with Professor Slughorn. He's promised to show us some rare concoctions that aren't even in the textbooks!"

Harry, who had been staring absentmindedly out of the window, turned his attention back to the conversation. "I'm just hoping this year is a bit less... eventful," he said, his tone half-joking.

The room fell silent for a moment as the memories of the ball's attack resurfaced. Though the days had passed uneventfully, the incident was still fresh in their minds. The investigation, led by Head Auror Rufus Scrimgeour and Madam Bones, had yet to yield any significant leads. The perpetrator had covered their tracks well, leaving the authorities with little to go on.

"It's frustrating," Hermione said, breaking the silence. "With all the Aurors and wards around, you'd think they'd have found something by now."

Harry sighed, his frustration evident. "I still think we should use Veritaserum on Malfoy. If he knows something, it would come out."

Hermione shook her head. "You know we can't do that, Harry. It's against Ministry regulations, and besides, we need solid evidence, not just suspicions."

Gabrielle, trying to lighten the mood, chimed in. "Maybe we should take matters into our own hands. We could form our own investigation squad."

Harry chuckled at the idea, imagining the four of them sneaking around like a group of junior Aurors. "As much as I'd love to see Malfoy's face when we confront him, I think we should leave it to the professionals for now."

Despite the lighthearted moment, the underlying tension remained. The attack had cast a shadow over their holiday, and each of them was eager for answers. As the conversation shifted back to more mundane topics, Harry couldn't help but let his mind wander to thoughts of retribution and justice.

The remainder of the week passed in a similar fashion—quiet yet charged with a sense of expectancy. The girls continued their discussions, often leaving Harry to his own thoughts. While he missed the company of Ron and Neville, he found comfort in the presence of his friends and the knowledge that they were safe.

On the last evening before their return to Hogwarts, Apolline hosted a small farewell dinner. The dining hall was adorned with candles and flowers, casting a warm, inviting glow. As they enjoyed a lavish meal, the conversation turned once again to the mysterious attack.

"Do you think they'll ever find out who did it?" Gabrielle asked, her voice tinged with concern.

Jean-Sebastian, who had been quietly listening, finally spoke. "The Aurors are doing everything they can. Sometimes these things take time. But rest assured, they will not give up until the culprit is found."

Harry nodded, appreciating the reassurance. "I just hope it happens sooner rather than later."

As the evening drew to a close, they all shared a sense of camaraderie and determination. Despite the uncertainties ahead, they knew they could face whatever came next together. And as Harry lay in bed that night, he felt a renewed sense of purpose. The attack had been a stark reminder of the dangers they faced, but it had also strengthened his resolve. Whatever challenges lay ahead, he would be ready to face them head-on, with his friends by his side.

Malfoy's complicity in the attack had been further proven to Harry's mind when he was awakened later on the night of the ball—not long after going to bed, in fact—by a surge of triumph from the Dark Lord. Not that Harry required such confirmation. Clearly, Malfoy—or whoever had actually cast the curse—had returned to Voldemort's side and reported his success, leading to the emotion that woke him. He had waited until the following morning to report his experience to Jean-Sebastian, rightly deciding that they were all tired and there was no rush. He knew that Jean-Sebastian was still to meet with the blond Pureblood, and while the confrontation with Malfoy would not be cordial in any way and Malfoy was obviously a skilled and dangerous man, Jean-Sebastian was every bit his equal in confidence and skill. The disgusting Pureblood was in for a very rude awakening if he tried to intimidate the head of the Delacour family.

Of further concern was the current state of Jean-Sebastian's security staff. With his chief of security, Jacques, now dead, and the second in command, Gaston, incapacitated and recovering in France, it was unsurprising that the security detail was a little demoralized and disorganized. Jean-Sebastian had not mentioned what he planned to do for the future, but Harry suspected that he would not allow the situation to continue for long.

It was on the second day of the new year that an event occurred which was to change Harry's life once again. With the events at the ball, the Headmaster's request to speak with him had largely been forced from Harry's mind, contrary to what he would have thought upon first hearing the request. Thus, when he received Jean-Sebastian's request to join him in his study, Harry at once thought of Dumbledore and his words the night of the ball, assuming the Headmaster was here to speak with him.

With more curiosity than dread, Harry entered the study, noting the presence of not only Dumbledore and Jean-Sebastian, but also Sirius. He was greeted cheerfully and invited to take a seat. A round of small talk—how he was enjoying his vacation, what he had done, etc.—ensued, though fortunately for Harry's growing impatience, it did not continue long, as Dumbledore soon came to the point.

"Harry," Dumbledore began, his eyes twinkling behind his half-moon glasses, "there are matters we must discuss concerning the attack and the broader implications it has for your safety and future."

Harry leaned forward, his curiosity piqued. "What do you mean, Professor?"

Dumbledore exchanged a glance with Jean-Sebastian before continuing. "The attack on the ball was not just an isolated incident. It signifies a growing boldness on the part of Voldemort and his followers. We have reason to believe that you may be a target once again, perhaps more so now than ever."

Sirius, who had been silent until now, spoke up, his tone serious. "Harry, we're not trying to scare you, but we need to take extra precautions. With Jacques gone and Gaston recovering, security here is stretched thin. Jean-Sebastian and I have been discussing what measures we can put in place to ensure your safety."

Harry nodded, absorbing the information. "So, what do we do?"

Jean-Sebastian leaned forward, his expression determined. "We are reinforcing the wards around the manor and increasing the number of Aurors on site. Additionally, we've arranged for some of the best curse breakers to sweep the grounds regularly. But beyond physical security, there is another matter Dumbledore wishes to address with you."

Dumbledore's expression grew more solemn. "Harry, it is time we discuss your connection to Voldemort. The surge of triumph you felt the night of the ball is a sign of your unique link to him, a link that could be both a blessing and a curse. We need to explore this connection further, understand it, and learn how to use it to our advantage while protecting you from its dangers."

Harry's mind raced. He had always known about the connection, but now it seemed more critical than ever. "How do we do that?" he asked, a mix of determination and apprehension in his voice.

"We start with Occlumency," Dumbledore replied. "Sirius and I will help you strengthen your mind against unwanted intrusions. It won't be easy, but it is necessary."

Sirius placed a reassuring hand on Harry's shoulder. "We'll be with you every step of the way, Harry. You're not alone in this."

Harry took a deep breath, feeling a surge of resolve. "I'm ready," he said, meeting the eyes of each man in the room. "Whatever it takes, I'm ready."

As the meeting continued, they outlined the steps Harry would take in his training and the additional security measures to be implemented. By the time Harry left the study, he felt a mixture of apprehension and determination. The path ahead was fraught with danger, but with the support of his friends and mentors, he knew he could face whatever challenges lay ahead.

"Now, Harry," Dumbledore began, peering at Harry intently, "you can probably guess that I did not ask to meet with you to discuss your holidays." When Harry nodded in assent, he resumed speaking, "In fact, I have some serious matters to discuss today, matters which are particularly of concern to you."

Glancing around the room, Harry noticed the almost grim expressions on the faces of both Jean-Sebastian and Sirius. A sinking feeling began in his stomach—clearly, whatever Dumbledore had to discuss was not some trivial matter and his original instinct that this was very bad news had been correct. He swallowed thickly and nodded to Dumbledore to come to the point.

"Very well," Dumbledore responded. "Before we begin, however, I wish to make two things very clear to you. The first is that you are surrounded by many who love you and wish the best for you—whatever you are required to face in life, you shall not do it alone.

"And second, I wish to make it very clear to you that you have not heard of this matter yet by my insistence. If you feel that you have been ill-used because this information has been withheld, then it is my fault and mine alone—Jean-Sebastian and Sirius are not to be blamed. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," Harry replied, wondering why Dumbledore was insisting on this. He trusted the men in this room and could not imagine that they would keep him in the dark if it would put him in danger. Of course he wished to know everything that might affect him, but he doubted there was anything for which he would hold a grudge. Surely it could not be that bad!

"Good," was Dumbledore's response. He then sat back, his eyes losing focus as he seemingly considered what he was going to say. A glance at the other two men did not reveal anything, though Sirius did attempt to lighten the atmosphere a little by winking and smiling at him. Harry returned his smile with a halfhearted effort of his own.

"Harry, do you remember when you asked me why Voldemort was after you?"

Momentarily confused by this seeming non-sequitur, Harry nevertheless recalled the incident immediately. "After the confrontation with Quirrell."

"Precisely," Dumbledore affirmed, his gaze sharpening. "I told you then that Voldemort was after you because he believed you to be a threat to him, but I did not tell you the full story. The prophecy that marked you as his equal is what I wish to discuss today."

Harry's heart began to race. He had heard fragments of the prophecy before, but never the entire thing. He leaned forward, hanging on Dumbledore's every word.

"The prophecy was made shortly before your birth, Harry," Dumbledore continued, his tone grave. "It foretold that a child born at the end of July would have the power to vanquish the Dark Lord. This child would be marked as his equal and possess a power that the Dark Lord knows not."

Harry's mind reeled as he processed this information. "But what does it mean? What power do I have that Voldemort doesn't?"

"Love, Harry," Dumbledore replied softly. "Your capacity for love is your greatest strength. It is a power that Voldemort cannot comprehend, let alone wield. It is why you were able to survive his killing curse as a baby and why you have been able to resist him time and time again."

Harry sat back, trying to absorb the enormity of what he had just learned. The prophecy, the attacks, everything seemed to make a twisted sort of sense now. But one question still burned in his mind. "If love is my greatest power, how can I use it to defeat him?"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled with a mixture of sadness and hope. "That is something we must discover together, Harry. It is not as simple as casting a spell or wielding a weapon. It will require great courage, understanding, and sacrifice."

Sirius, sensing Harry's turmoil, spoke up. "We'll be with you every step of the way, Harry. You're not alone in this. We're family, and we'll face this together."

Jean-Sebastian nodded in agreement. "Your safety and success are our top priorities. We will do everything in our power to support and protect you."

Feeling a surge of determination, Harry looked around the room at the faces of those who cared for him. "Thank you," he said, his voice steady. "I won't let you down. Whatever it takes, I'll be ready."

As the meeting continued, they discussed the steps Harry would take in his training and the additional security measures to be implemented. By the time Harry left the study, he felt a mixture of apprehension and resolve. The path ahead was fraught with danger, but with the support of his friends and mentors, he knew he could face whatever challenges lay ahead.

"Yes, exactly," replied Dumbledore. "I told you at that time that I could not answer you because you were too young. In some ways, I must admit I still feel that way. However, Jean-Sebastian and Sirius have convinced me otherwise, and as you have shown much maturity in the past several months, I have agreed that now is the time to answer your question."

Surprised, Harry sat back in his chair. If he had thought anything in advance of this meeting, it was certainly not that he was about to learn the answer to the question which stood at the center of his messed-up life. He felt conflicted—elated that he would finally learn the secret, while apprehensive at the same time. Still, it was knowledge, and fitting a missing piece into the puzzle of his life could only be good.

"You see, Harry, the great mystery of your connection to Voldemort is that of a prophecy, which was made before you were born."

Harry frowned. "A prophecy? I don't know, sir, Divination seems kind of dodgy if you ask me."

"Indeed you are correct," Dumbledore replied, chuckling. "Divination, as my dear colleague Professor McGonagall would say, is a woolly discipline, and I would have to agree with her. For a time, I had actually considered dropping Divination from the curriculum of Hogwarts.

"However, prophecy—true prophecy—is real. It is not a skill which can be taught, nor is it a skill which can be controlled, and true prophecy will not be given in your Divination class using the methods Professor Trelawney teaches. True seers have no control over their gift—they divulge prophecy when the time is right, and they only proclaim a specific prophecy once. Furthermore, when a seer is gripped by the prophetic influence, they speak without realizing it, and can never remember that which he or she has prophesied."

"Then what happens if they give it when no one else is around?"

"A very good question, Harry," Dumbledore replied. "If there is no one there to listen, then the prophecy would presumably be lost. However, there is an ancient magic which encompasses the world. When a prophecy is given, this magic detects it, and a record is created in the Department of Mysteries."

"Any prophecy from around the world?" Harry asked, frowning.

"Indeed. The magic does not distinguish national boundaries and languages."

Harry took a deep breath, trying to grasp the enormity of what Dumbledore was telling him. "So, this prophecy... what does it say?"

Dumbledore's expression turned solemn as he looked directly into Harry's eyes. "The prophecy that concerns you and Voldemort was given by Sybill Trelawney. It states, '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...'"

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