Rosabella Black |Daughter Of Sirius Black| (Book 5)

The Lost Prophecy

Rosabella's Point of View:
I sat numb on the hospital bed. Hermione was breathing steadily in the bed next to me. Madam Pomfrey had reversed the Curse that Dolohov casted on her but she was weak and tired. Ginny was in the the bed on my other side. Her ankle was bandaged and she was struggling to keep her eyes open as she fought the sleep threatening to overcome her. Madam Pomfrey had complimented me on how well I had healed Neville's nose. Luna was asleep in a bed, not too badly hurt. My brothers, like me stared unseeingly at the floor. Madam Pomfrey had taken of the bandages off my wrists, cleaned the deep cuts, placed an ointment on them and wrapped them up again. Ron was also sleeping in a hospital bed, healed by Madam Pomfrey but exhausted like the rest of us.
After a while I stood up and left the hospital wing. No one stopped me. As I moved passed the Entrance Hall, I whistled loudly. I stopped and waited for a few minutes and I saw Winter sprinting out the Forbidden Forest and towards me. As she got closer, I knelt down and when she reached me I wrapped my arms around her. I don't know how long I stayed there for but I eventually got to my feet. I knew where I was going, but I wasn't sure why I was going there, and I soon arrived at the golden gargoyle that provided the entrance to Dumbledore's office.
    "Fizzing Whizzbee." I said and the gargoyle opened to reveal the spiral staircase.
I walked up to Dumbledore's office with Winter walking next to me. I opened the door to find Harry. Harry was pacing around the office. He looked up and saw me. Our eyes met and the immeasurable pain we were both feeling past between us. I felt my eyes start to water and I began to walk towards him just as he started to walk towards me. We met in the middle and I threw my arms around his neck and let out a shakey breath as a tear escaped my eye. I didn't think I had anymore tears left. Harry wrapped his arms tightly around my waist. We stayed like that for awhile, taking comfort from being in each others arms.
A picture behind us gave a particularly loud grunting snore.
    "Ah . . . Harry Potter . . ." A cool voice said.
Harry and I looked in the direction of the voice. Phineas Nigellus gave a long yawn, stretching his arms as he surveyed Harry and I out of shrewd, narrow eyes.
  "And what brings you here in the early hours of the morning? This office is supposed to be barred to all but the rightful Headmaster. Or has Dumbledore sent you here? Oh, don't tell me . . . another message for my worthless great - great - grandson?" Phineas said and gave another shuddering yawn.
I glared furiously at him.
    "Unless you can communicate with people in the afterlife then, NO! We don't have another message for him!" I snapped furiously.
Phineas looked surprised and my shouting had woke up all the other portraits.
     "Well . . . at least he had four sons . . . only good thing he ever did for the family and even then it was with a half blood . . ."
I stared to grab stuff off Dumbledore's desk and threw them at Phineas.
   "I hope this means, that Dumbledore will soon be back among us?" said the corpulent, red-nosed wizard who hung on the wall behind the Headmasters desk.
The wizard was surveying him with great interest as I ran out things to throw. Harry nodded.
   "Oh good. It has been very dull without him, very dull indeed." The wizard said as he settled himself on the throne - like chair on which he had been painted and smiled benignly upon Harry.
   "Dumbledore thinks very highly of you, as I am sure you know. Oh yes. Holds you in great esteem." The wizard said comfortably.
Harry looked like he would rather be anywhere else but here.
The empty fireplace burst into emerald green flame, making me jump and Harry leap away from the door, both of us staring at the man spinning inside the grate. As Dumbledore's tall form unfolded itself from the fire, the wizards and witches on the surrounding walls jerked awake, many of them giving cries of welcome.
   "Thank you." Dumbledore said softly.
Dumbledore did not look at us at first, but walked over to the perch beside the door and withdrew, from an inside pocket of his robes, the tiny, featherless Fawkes, whom he placed gently on the tray of soft ashes beneath the golden post where the full-grown Fawkes usually stood.
Dumbledore turned to look at Harry but stopped when he saw the damaged objects I ha thrown at Phineas.
     "This little lady has a temper." Phineas said with an amused smile at me.
I glared back.
     "Well this old man needs to watch his mouth." I retorted.
     "I'm sorry, Professor. I wouldn't usually break stuff that's not mine." I said, sincerely to Dumbledore.
     "Not to worry they can easily be repaired." Dumbledore said softly and with a wave of his wand the objects were repaired and back where they once were.
Dumbledore then turned to Harry.
   "Well, Harry, you will be pleased to hear that none of your fellow students are going to suffer lasting damage from the night's events." Dumbledore said gently.
Harry didn't speak but he looked relieved. He refused to look any of us in the eyes.
    "Professor, Tonks? Is she okay?" I asked anxiously.
    "Nymphadora Tonks may need to spend a little time in St. Mungos, but it seems she will make a full recovery. Fiona is seeing to her." Dumbledore said and breathed a sigh of relief.
    "Madam Pomfrey is patching up your classmates." Dumbledore said to Harry.
Harry nodded at the carpet, which was growing lighter as the sky outside grew paler.
   "I know how you're feeling, Harry." Dumbledore said very quietly.
   "No, you don't." Harry said, his voice was suddenly loud and strong.
And his face held anger. More anger then I had ever seen on his face.
   "You see, Dumbledore? Never try to understand the students. They hate it. They would much rather be tragically misunderstood, wallow in self-pity, stew in their own--" Phineas said slyly.
   "That's enough, Phineas." Dumbledore said.
    "Professor . . . can these portraits be burned?" I asked slowly, glaring furiously at Phineas.
     "I do not know. I have never tried." Dumbledore answered.
I continued to glare at Phineas and I saw him gulp and he looked slightly nervous.
Harry turned his back on Dumbledore and stared determinedly out of the window.
   "There is no shame in what you are feeling, Harry. On the contrary . . . the fact that you can feel pain like this is your greatest strength." Dumbledore said gently.
   "My greatest strength, is it? You haven't got a clue . . . you don't know . . ." Harry said, his voice shaking.
    "What don't I know?" Dumbledore asked calmly.
Harry turned around, shaking with rage.
   "I don't want to talk about how I feel, all right?" Harry snapped.
   "Harry, suffering like this proves you are still a man! This pain is part of being human-" Dumbledore said.
   "THEN - I - DON'T - WANT - TO - BE - HUMAN!' Harry roared, and he seized the delicate silver instrument from the spindle-legged table beside him and flung it across the room.
It shattered into a hundred tiny pieces against the wall. Several of the pictures let out yells of anger and fright, and the portrait of Armando Dippet said, "Really!"
I stared wide eyed at Harry. I had never seen him like this.
   "I DON'T CARE!" Harry yelled at the portraits, snatching up a lunascope and throwing it into the fireplace.
    "I'VE HAD ENOUGH, I'VE SEEN ENOUGH, I WANT OUT, I WANT IT TO END, I DON'T CARE ANY MORE-" Harry exclaimed in anger as he seized the table on which the silver instrument had stood and threw that, too.
It broke apart on the floor and the legs rolled in different directions.
   "You do care. You care so much you feel as though you will bleed to death with the pain of it." Dumbledore said.
He had not flinched or made a single move to stop Harry demolishing his office. His expression was calm, almost detached.
   "I - DON'T!' Harry screamed, loudly.
   "Oh, yes, you do. You have now lost your mother, your father, and the closest thing to a parent you have ever known. Of course you care." said Dumbledore, still calm.
   "YOU DON'T KNOW HOW I FEEL! YOU - STANDING THERE - YOU-" Harry roared.
Harry turned on his heel and ran to the door, seized the doorknob again and wrenched at it. But the door would not open. Harry turned back to Dumbledore.
   "Let me out,' Harry said, shaking from head to foot.
   "No." Dumbledore said simply.
For a few seconds they stared at each other, as I still stared at Harry with eyes wide with shock.
   "Let me out." Harry said again.
   "No." Dumbledore repeated.
   "If you don't - if you keep me in here - if you don't let me-" Harry said
   "By all means continue destroying my possessions. I daresay I have too many." Dumbledore said serenely as he walked around his desk and sat down behind it, watching Harry.
   "Let me out." Harry said yet again, in a voice that was cold and almost as calm as Dumbledore's.
   "Not until I have had my say." Dumbledore said.
   "Do you - do you think I want to - do you think I give a - I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU'VE GOT TO SAY! I don't want to hear anything you've got to say!" Harry roared.
   "You will,' said Dumbledore steadily. 'Because you are not nearly as angry with me as you ought to be. If you are to attack me, as I know you are close to doing, I would like to have thoroughly earned it." Dumbledore said steadily.
I snapped out of my shock as Harry looked like he was going to shout again and I've heard enough shouting. I walked over to him and Harry did not look at me as I did. I placed my hands on either side of his face and forced him to look at me.
As soon as my skin touched his I saw a lot of his anger leave his face and was replaced with anguish at the loss we both suffered. Harry took a deep, shakey breath.
    "It's seems the effect you have on him has not been exaggerated, Rosabella." Dumbledore said quietly as his eyes observed us.
     "What are you talking-?" Harry and I both started to say but Dumbledore held up a silencing held.
He took a deep breath.
   "It is my fault that Sirius died, or should I say, almost entirely my fault. I will not be so arrogant as to claim responsibility for the whole. Sirius was a brave, clever and energetic man, and such men are not usually content to sit at home in hiding while they believe others to be in danger. Nevertheless, you should never have believed for an instant that there was any necessity for you to go to the Department of Mysteries tonight. If I had been open with you, Harry, as I should have been, you would have known a long time ago that Voldemort might try and lure you to the Department of Mysteries. You would never have been tricked into going there tonight. And Sirius would not have had to come after you. That blame lies with me, and with me alone." Dumbledore said clearly.
Harry was standing with his arm around my waist and one hand still on the doorknob. We were gazing at Dumbledore, hardly breathing, listening yet barely understanding what we were hearing.
   "Please sit down." Dumbledore said.
It was not an order, it was a request.
Harry hesitated but I steppedout of his hold and grabbed the hand that was around my waist and led him to the seats facing Dumbledore's desk. We held hands as we looked at Dumbledore.
   "Harry, I owe you an explanation. An explanation of an old man's mistakes. For I see now that what I have done, and not done, with regard to you, bears all the hallmarks of the failings of age. Youth cannot know how age thinks and feels. But old men are guilty if they forget what it was to be young . . . and I seem to have forgotten, lately . . ." Dumbledore said.
The sun was rising properly now. There was a rim of dazzling orange visible over the mountains and the sky above it was colourless and bright. The light fell upon Dumbledore, upon the silver of his eyebrows and beard, upon the lines gouged deeply into his lace.
  "I guessed, fifteen years ago, when I saw the scar on your forehead, what it might mean. I guessed that it might be the sign of a connection forged between you and Voldemort." Dumbledore said.
   "You've told me this before Professor." Harry said bluntly.
   "Yes, but you see - it is necessary to start with your scar. For it became apparent, shortly after you rejoined the magical world, that I was correct. That your scar was giving you warnings when Voldemort was close to you, or else feeling powerful emotion." Dumbledore said apologetically.
   "I know." Harry said wearily.
   "And this ability of yours - to detect Voldemort's presence, even when he is disguised, and to know what he is feeling when his emotions are roused – has become more and more pronounced since Voldemort returned to his own body and his full powers." Dumbledore said.
Harry did not bother to nod.
   "More recently, I became concerned that Voldemort might realise that this connection between you exists. Sure enough, there came a time when you entered so far into his mind and thoughts that he sensed your presence. I am speaking, of course, of the night when you witnessed the attack on Mr. Weasley." Dumbledore said.
  "Yeah, Snape told me."Harry muttered.
  "Professor Snape, Harry." Dumbledore corrected him quietly.
  "But did you not wonder why it was not I who explained this to you? Why I did not teach you Occlumency? Why I had not so much as looked at you for months?" Dumbledore asked.
Harry looked up now. He could see now what I saw, that Dumbledore looked sad and tired.
   "Yeah, I wondered." Harry mumbled.
   "You see, I believed it could not be long before Voldemort attempted to force his way into your mind, to manipulate and misdirect your thoughts. I was not eager to give him more incentives to do so. I was sure that if he realised that our relationship was - or had ever been - closer than that of headmaster and pupil, he would seize his chance to use you as a means to spy on me. I feared the uses to which he would put you, the possibility that he might try and possess you. Harry, I believe I was right to think that Voldemort would have made use of you in such a way. On those rare occasions when we had close contact, I thought I saw a shadow of him stir behind your eyes . . ." Dumbledore continued.
Harry looked thoughtfully and reminiscent.
   "Voldemort's aim in possessing you, as he demonstrated tonight, would not have been my destruction. It would have been yours. He hoped, when he possessed you briefly a short while ago, that I would sacrifice you in the hope of killing him. So you see, I have been trying, in distancing myself from you, to protect you, Harry. An old man s mistake . . ." Dumbledore said.
    "Wait what?" I said in a frantic panic.
Harry sighed deeply.
    "It wasn’t for long . . ." Harry tried to say in a reassuring way.
    "Sirius told me you felt Voldemort awake inside you the very night that you had the vision of Arthur Weasley's attack. I knew at once that my worst fears were correct. Voldemort had realised he could use you. In an attempt to arm you against Voldemort's assaults on your mind, I arranged Occlumency lessons with Professor Snape." Dumbledore said as the sunlight started to shine through the window.
    "I wished I had known the effect Rosabella had on you. That her very touch kept the dreams away, at least intill Voldemort realised the connection and that something was preventing it. I believe you overcame that by singing. Your voice and touched protected him. If I had known this, then you learning Occlumency wouldn't have been as imperative and your mind would not have become more vulnerable." Dumbledore said.
   "Why do I have this effect?" I asked, apprehensively.
Harry looked up at Dumbledore, wanting to know the answer as well. Dumbledore smiled as he looked between us.
   "Because of the love you share. A very powerful thing. Like how your mother's love protected you that night in Godrics Hollow, you're love, Rosabella, when expressed, protected him from Voldemort's influence." Dumbledore explain.
Harry and I glanced at each other and both our hands tightened their hold.
   "Professor Snape discovered, that you had been dreaming about the door to the Department of Mysteries in those short space of times when Rosabella was not their. Voldemort, of course, had been obsessed with the possibility of hearing the prophecy ever since he regained his body and as he dwelled on the door, so did you. Though you did not know what it meant." Dumbledore resumed.
    "And then you saw Rookwood, who worked in the Department of Mysteries before his arrest, telling Voldemort what we had known all along. That the prophecies held in the Ministry of Magic are heavily protected. Only the people to whom they refer can lift them from the shelves without suffering madness. In this case, either Voldemort himself would have to enter the Ministry of Magic and risk revealing himself at last. Or else you would have to take it for him. It became a matter of even greater urgency that you should master Occlumency, or at least that was what I believed as I was unaware of the depth of this relationship." Dumbledore said and gestured between with a small remorseful smile.
   "But I didn't. I didn't practise, I didn't bother, I could've stopped myself having those dreams, Hermione kept telling me to do it, if I had he'd never have been able to show me where to go, and - Sirius wouldn't - Sirius wouldn't-" Harry muttered.
   "I tried to check he'd really taken Sirius. I went to Umbridge's office. I spoke to Kreacher in the fire and he said Sirius wasn't there, he said he'd gone!" Harry said, slightly defensive.
    "Kreacher lied. You are not his master, he could lie to you without even needing to punish himself. Kreacher intended you to go to the Ministry of Magic." Dumbledore said calmly.
    "And I was pulled out of the fire before he could answer any of my questions." I said furious with Krracher and myself.
Dumbledore nodded.
   "He - he sent me on purpose?" Harry said.
   "Oh yes. Kreacher, I am afraid, has been serving more than one master for months." Dumbledore said.
   "How? He hasn't been out of Grimmauld Place for years." Harry said blankly.
   "Kreacher seized his opportunity shortly before Christmas, when Sirius, apparently, shouted at him to 'get out'. He took Sirius at his word, and interpreted this as an order to leave the house. He went to the only Black family member for whom he had any respect left . . . Black's cousin Narcissa, sister of Bellatrix and wife of Lucius Malfoy." Dumbledore said.
   "How do you know all this?" Harry said.
   "Kreacher told me last night. You see, when you gave Professor Snape that cryptic warning, he realised that you had had a vision of Sirius trapped in the bowels of the Department of Mysteries. He, like you, attempted to contact Sirius at once. I should explain that members of the Order of the Phoenix have more reliable methods of communicating than the fire in Dolores Umbridge's office. Professor Snape found that Sirius was alive and safe in Grimmauld Place. When, however, you did not return from your trip into the Forest with Dolores Umbridge, Professor Snape grew worried that you still believed Sirius to be a captive of Lord Voldemort's. He alerted certain Order members at once." Dumbledore said and heaved a great sigh.
   "Alastor Moody, Nymphadora Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Molly Weasley and Remus Lupin were at Headquarters when he made contact. All agreed to go to your aid at once. Molly agreed to stay and look after Roseanna while the others went as Fiona was working a night shift at Saint Mungo's. Professor Snape requested that Sirius remain behind, as he needed somebody to remain at Headquarters to tell me what had happened, for I was due there at any moment. In the meantime he, Professor Snape, intended to search the Forest for you." Dumbledore said, sadly.
   "But Sirius did not wish to remain behind while the others went to search for you and he guessed, rightly so, that Rosabella would most likely be with you. He delegated to Kreacher the task of telling me what had happened. And so it was that when I arrived in Grimmauld Place shortly after they had all left for the Ministry, it was the elf who told me - laughing fit to burst- - where Sirius had gone." Dumbledore said, sadly.
   "He was laughing?" Harry and I said in a hollow voice.
   "Oh, yes. You see, Kreacher was not able to betray us totally. He is not Secret Keeper for the Order, he could not give the Malfoy's our whereabouts or tell them any of the Order's confidential plans that he had been forbidden to reveal. He was bound by the enchantments of his kind, which is to say that he could not disobey a direct order from his master, Sirius or any of his children. But he gave Narcissa information of the sort that is very valuable to Voldemort, yet must have seemed much too trivial for Sirius to think of banning him from repeating it." Dumbledore said.
   "Like what?" Harry said.
   "Like the fact that the Sirius cared for you just as much as he did for his own children, the people he cared most about in the world. Like the fact that you were coming to regard Sirius as a mixture of father and brother. Voldemort knew already, of course, that Sirius was in the Order, and that you knew where he was - but Kreacher's information made him realise that the one person for whom you would go to any lengths to rescue was Sirius Black." Dumbledore said.
Harry looked numb and I felt tears prick my eyes.
   "So . . . when I asked Kreacher if Sirius was there last night . . ." Harry said, numbly.
   "The Malfoy's - undoubtedly on Voldemort's instructions - had told him he must find a way of keeping Sirius out of the way once you had seen the vision of Sirius being tortured. Then, if you decided to check whether Sirius was at home or not, Kreacher would be able to pretend he was not. Kreacher injured Buckbeak the hippogriff yesterday and, at the moment when you made your appearance in the fire, Sirius was upstairs tending to him." Dumbledore said.
Harry's breathing was becoming quick and shallow.
   "And Kreacher told you all this . . . and laughed?" Harry croaked.
   "He did not wish to tell me. But I am a sufficiently accomplished Legilimens myself to know when I am being lied to and I -persuaded him- to tell me the full story, before I left for the Department of Mysteries." Dumbledore said.
   "And Hermione kept telling us to be nice to him-" Harry whispered, his hand that was not holding mine, curled in cold fists on his knees.
   "She was quite right, Harry.' I warned Sirius when we adopted twelve Grimmauld Place as our Headquarters that Kreacher must be treated with kindness and respect. I also told him that Kreacher could be dangerous to us. I do not think Sirius took me very seriously, or that he ever saw Kreacher as a being with feelings as acute as a human's-" Dumbledore said.
    "Don't you blame - don't you - talk - about Sirius like - Kreacher's a lying - foul - he deserved-" Harry said, his breath constricting.
     "Professor . . . before anything else, Sirius was a father. My father. From what I understood of Kreachers mutterings, he was foul to Dad as a child and then when Dad broke away from his family, eventually his line became the last line to carry the Black name. Kreacher the proceeded to kidnap me and would of taken my brothers as well if they had been in the house. How can you expect a father to treat the kidnapper of his child with kindness r respect? And before you say he was following orders, the orders had not been given yet as that horrid grandmother of mine was angry that Kreacher acted to soon as she hadn't found a place yo take us where we would never be found." I said.
    "That didn't stop you. Kreacher is devoted to you. Am I to believe you did not show him kindness?" Dumbledore said.
     "That was before I knew and all I did was give him something he was devastated about it being thrown out. I didn't see the harm in letting him keep one thing." I insisted.
     "And you showed him compassion when you did that, something he had never experienced. Nor were you cruel. Kreacher is what he has been made by wizards. Yes, he is to be pitied. His existence has been as miserable as your friend Dobby's. He was forced to do Sirius's bidding, because Sirius was the last of the family to which he was enslaved, but he felt no true loyalty to him. And whatever Kreacher's faults, it must be admitted that Sirius did nothing to make Kreacher's lot easier-" Dumbledore said.
   "DON'T TALK ABOUT SIRIUS LIKE THAT!" Harry yelled and he was on his feet again, furious.
His hand yanked out of mine.
  "What about Snape? You're not talking about him, are you? When I told him Voldemort had Sirius he just sneered at me as usual-" Harry spat.
   "Harry you know Professor Snape had no choice but to pretend not to take you seriously in front of Dolores Umbridge, but as I have explained, he informed the Order as soon as possible about what you had said. It was he who deduced where you had gone when you did not return from the Forest. It was he, too, who gave Professor Umbridge fake Veritaserum when she was attempting to force both of you to tell her Sirius's whereabouts." Dumbledore said steadily.
    "Snape - Snape g - goaded Sirius about staying in the house - he made out Sirius was a coward-" Harry stammered out of anger.
   "Sirius was much too old and clever to have allowed such feeble taunts to hurt him." Dumbledore said.
  "Snape stopped giving me Occlumency lessons! He threw me out of his office!" Harry snarled.
   "I am aware of it. I have already said that it was a mistake for me not to teach you myself, though I was sure, at the time, that nothing could have been more dangerous than to open your mind even further to Voldemort while in my presence-" Dumbledore said heavily.
   "Snape made it worse, my scar always hurt worse after lessons with him - how do you know he wasn't trying to soften me up for Voldemort, make it easier for him to get inside my-" Harry said, angrily.
   "I trust Severus Snape. But I forgot - another old man's mistake -  that some wounds run too deep for the healing. I thought Professor Snape could overcome his feelings about your father - I was wrong." Dumbledore said simply.
   "But that's OK, is it? It's OK for Snape to hate my dad, but it's not OK for Sirius to hate Kreacher?" Harry yelled.
   "Sirius did not hate Kreacher. He regarded him as a servant unworthy of much interest or notice. Indifference and neglect often do much more damage than outright dislike . . . the fountain we destroyed tonight told a lie. We wizards have mistreated and abused our fellows for too long, and we are now reaping our reward." Dumbledore said.
  "SO SIRIUS DESERVED WHAT HE GOT, DID HE?" Harry and I yelled, my anger now suddenly rising as I stood up like Harry. 
   "I did not say that, nor will you ever hear me say it. Sirius was not a cruel man, he was kind to house - elves in general. He had no love for Kreacher, because Kreacher was a living reminder of the home Sirius had hated." Dumbledore replied quietly.
   "Yeah, he did hate it!" Harry said, his voice cracking as turned his back on Dumbledore and walked away.
The sun was bright inside the room now and the eyes of all the portraits followed him as he walked, without realising what he was doing, without seeing the office at all.
   "You made him stay shut up in that house and he hated it, that's why he wanted to get out last night-" Harry said.
   "I was trying to keep Sirius alive."  Dumbledore said quietly.
   "People don't like being locked up! You did it to me all last summer-" Harry said furiously, rounding on him.
Dumbledore closed his eyes and buried his face in his long-fingered hands. Harry and I watched him, but this uncharacteristic sign of exhaustion, or sadness, or whatever it was from Dumbledore, did not soften Harry but it softened me and I sat back down. Dumbledore lowered his hands and surveyed Harry through his half-moon glasses.
   "It is time, for me to tell you what I should have told you five years ago, Harry. Please sit down. I am going to tell you everything. I ask only a little patience. You will have your chance to rage at me - to do whatever you like - when I have finished. I will not stop you."
Harry glared at him for a moment.
    "Harry sit your ass back down in the chair." I said with a warning look.
Harry then flung himself back into the chair next to me, opposite Dumbledore and waited.
Dumbledore stared for a moment at the sunlit grounds outside the window, then looked back at Harry and I.
   "Five years ago you arrived at Hogwarts, Harry, safe and whole, as I had 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."
He paused. Harry said nothing.
   "You might ask - and with good reason - why it had to be so. Why could some wizarding family not have taken you in? Remus would of happily taken you along with Rosabella and her brothers and he would not have been the only on. Many would have done so more than gladly, would have been honoured and delighted to raise you as a son. My answer is that my priority was to keep you alive. You were in more danger than perhaps anyone but I realised. Voldemort had been vanquished hours before, but his supporters - and many of them are almost as terrible as he - were still at large, angry, desperate and violent. And I had to make my decision, too, with regard to the years ahead. Did I believe that Voldemort was gone for ever? No. I knew not whether it would be ten, twenty or fifty years before he returned, but I was sure he would do so. I was sure, too, knowing him as I have done, that he would not rest until he killed you." Dumbledore said.
   
  "I knew that Voldemort's knowledge of magic is perhaps more extensive than any wizard alive. I knew that even my most complex and powerful protective spells and charms were unlikely to be invincible if he ever returned to full power. But I knew, too, where Voldemort was weak. And so I made my decision. You would be protected by an ancient magic of which he knows, which he despises, and which he has always, therefore, underestimated--to his cost. I am speaking, of course, of the fact that your mother died to save you. She gave you a lingering protection he never expected, a protection that flows in your veins to this day. I put my trust, therefore, in your mother's blood. I delivered you to her sister, her only remaining relative." Dumbledore said.
   "She doesn't love me. She doesn't give a damn-" Harry said at once and I took his hand again and rubbed comforting circles with my thumb on the back of his hand.
   "But she took you."Dumbledore cut across him.
   "She may have taken you grudgingly, furiously, unwillingly, bitterly, yet still she took you, and in doing so, she sealed the charm I placed upon you. Your mother's sacrifice made the bond of blood the strongest shield I could give you." Dumbledore said 
    "I still don't-" Harry said.
    "While you can still call home the place where your mother's blood dwells, there you cannot be touched or harmed by Voldemort. He shed her blood, but it lives on in you and her sister. Her blood became your refuge. You need return there only once a year, but as long as you can still call it home, whilst you are there he cannot hurt you. Your aunt knows this. I explained what I had done in the letter I left, with you, on her doorstep. She knows that allowing you houseroom may well have kept you alive for the past fifteen years." Dumbledore said.
   "Wait. Wait a moment." Harry said and he sat up straighter in his chair, staring at Dumbledore.
I looked at curiously.
   "You sent that Howler. You told her to remember - it was your voice-" Harry said in disbelief.
   "I thought, that she might need reminding of the pact she had sealed by taking you. I suspected the Dementor attack might have awoken her to the dangers of having you as a surrogate son." Dumbledore said, inclining his head slightly.
  "It did. Well - my uncle more than her. He wanted to chuck me out, but after the Howler came she - she said I had to stay." Harry said quietly.
He stared at the floor for a moment.  
   "But what's this got to do with-" Harry said and his voice got caught in his throat unable to say my Dad's name.
    "With my Dad." I finished for him and I tightened my hold on Harry's hand.
    'Five years ago, then, you arrived at Hogwarts, neither as happy nor as well - nourished as I would have liked, perhaps, yet alive and healthy. You were not a pampered little prince, but as normal a boy as I could have hoped under the circumstances. Thus far, my plan was working well." Dumbledore continued, as though he had not paused in his story.
   "And then . . . well, you both will remember the events of your first year at Hogwarts quite as clearly as I do. You rose magnificently to the challenge that faced you and sooner -much sooner- than I had anticipated, you found yourself face to face with Voldemort. You survived again. You did more. You delayed his return to full power and strength. You fought a man's fight. I was . . . prouder of you than I can say." Dumbledore said.
  "Yet there was a flaw in this wonderful plan of mine. An obvious flaw that I knew, even then, might be the undoing of it all. And yet, knowing how important it was that my plan should succeed, I told myself that I would not permit this flaw to ruin it. I alone could prevent this, so I alone must be strong. And here was my first test, as you lay in the hospital wing, weak from your struggle with Voldemort." Dumbledore said.
    "I don't understand what you're saying." Harry said.
   "Don't you remember asking me, as you lay in the hospital wing, why Voldemort had tried to kill you when you were a baby?" Dumbledore asked.
Harry nodded.
   "Ought I to have told you then?" Dumbledore said, sadly.
Harry stared into the blue eyes of Dumbledore and said nothing.
   "You do not see the flaw in the plan yet? No . . . perhaps not. Well, as you know, I decided not to answer you. Eleven, I told myself, was much too young to know. I had never intended to tell you when you were eleven. The knowledge would be too much at such a young age. I should have recognised the danger signs then. I should have asked myself why I did not feel more disturbed that you had already asked me the question to which I knew, one day, I must give a terrible answer. I should have recognised that I was too happy to think that I did not have to do it on that particular day . . . you were too young, much too young." Dumbledore said.
   "And so we entered your second year at Hogwarts. And once again you met challenges even grown wizards have never faced. Once again you acquitted yourself beyond my wildest dreams. You did not ask me again, however, why Voldemort had left that mark on you. We discussed your scar, oh yes . . . we came very, very close to the subject. Why did I not tell you everything?" Dumbledore said.
    "Well twelves not much better then eleven." I said thoughtfully.
Dumbledore nodded at me.
   "Precisely my train of thought. Twelve was, after all, hardly better than eleven to receive such information. I allowed you to leave my presence, bloodstained, exhausted but exhilarated, and if I felt a twinge of unease that I ought, perhaps, to have told you then, it was swiftly silenced. You were still so young, you see, and I could not find it in myself to spoil that night of triumph . . . Do you see, Harry? Do you see the flaw in my brilliant plan now? I had fallen into the trap I had foreseen, that I had told myself I could avoid, that I must avoid." Dumbledore said.
   "I don't-" Harry began.
   "I cared about you too much. 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." Dumbledore said simply.
   "Is there a defence? 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, well, and happy? I never dreamed that I would have such a person on my hands." Dumbledore said, remorsefully.
I couldn't blame Dumbledore. Harry's a hard person not to love. He has his flaws like we all do but the good parts of him far outweigh any flaws. On instinct, I held Harry's hand tighter.
    "We entered your third year. I watched from afar as you struggled to repel dementors, as you found Sirius, learned what he was and rescued him. Was I to tell you then, at the moment when you had triumphantly snatched your godfather from the jaws of the Ministry? But now, at the age of thirteen, my excuses were running out. Young you might be, but you had proved you were exceptional. My conscience was uneasy, Harry. I knew the time must come soon . . .
But you came out of the maze last year, having watched Cedric Diggory die, having escaped death so narrowly yourself . . . and I did not tell you, though I knew, now Voldemort had returned, I must do it soon. And now, tonight, 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 defence 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." Dumbledore finished.
Harry and I waited, but Dumbledore did not speak.
    "I still don't understand." Harry said.
    "Voldemort tried to kill you when you were a child because of a prophecy made shortly before your birth. He knew the prophecy had been made, though he did not know its full contents. He 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."
The sun had risen fully now. Dumbledore's office was bathed in it. The glass case in which the sword of Godric Gryffindor resided gleamed white and opaque, the fragments of the instruments Harry had thrown to the floor glistened like raindrops, and behind us, the baby Fawkes made soft chirruping noises in his nest of ashes.
   "The prophecy's smashed. I was pulling Neville up those benches in the - the room where the archway was, and I ripped his robes and it fell . . ." Harry said, blankly.
   "The thing that smashed was merely the record of the prophecy kept by the Department of Mysteries. But the prophecy was made to somebody, and that person has the means of recalling it perfectly." Dumbledore said.
   "Who heard it?" Harry asked, though he thought he knew the answer already.
    "I believe the person who heard it is sitting opposite it us." I said, looking at Dumbledore.
Dumbledore gave me a small smile and nodded his head.
   "I did. On a cold, wet night sixteen years ago, in a room above the bar at the Hog's Head inn. I had gone there to see an applicant for the post of Divination teacher, though it was against my inclination to allow the subject of Divination to continue at all. The applicant, however, was the great - great - granddaughter of a very famous, very gifted Seer and I thought it common politeness to meet her. I was disappointed. It seemed to me that she had not a trace of the gift herself. I told her, courteously I hope, that I did not think she would be suitable for the post. I turned to leave." Dumbledore said and he got to his feet and walked past Harry and I to the black cabinet that stood beside Fawkes's perch.
He bent down, slid back a catch and took from inside it the shallow stone basin, carved with runes around the edges. Dumbledore walked back to the desk, placed a basin with clear, blue liquid in it on the desk.
I looked at it curiously.
    "It's a Pensieve." Dumbledore informed me.
I mouthed 'Oh'.
Dumbledore then raised his wand to his own temple. From it, he withdrew silvery, gossamer - fine strands of thought clinging to the wand and deposited them into the basin. He sat back down behind his desk and watched his thoughts swirl and drift inside the Pensieve for a moment. Then, with a sigh, he raised his wand and prodded the silvery substance with its tip.
A figure rose out of it, draped in shawls, her eyes magnified to enormous size behind her glasses, and she revolved slowly, her feet in the basin. But when Sybill Trelawney spoke, it was not in her usual ethereal, mystic voice, but in the harsh, hoarse tones.
   
  "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 . . ."
The slowly revolving Professor Trelawney sank back into the silver mass below and vanished.
The silence within the office was absolute. Neither Dumbledore nor Harry nor I nor any of the portraits made a sound. Even Fawkes had fallen silent.
I was horrified but committed the prophecy to memory.
   "Professor Dumbledore? It . . . did that mean . . . what did that mean?" Harry said very quietly for Dumbledore, still staring at the Pensieve, seemed completely lost in thought.
   "It meant, that the person who has the only chance of conquering Lord Voldemort for good was born at the end of July, nearly sixteen years ago. This boy would be born to parents who had already defied Voldemort three times." Dumbledore said.
Harry seemed to be finding it difficult to breath and I was still staring at the Pensieve, horrified.
One line kept repeating in my head.
'either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives'
   "It means-me?" Harry said, breathless.
Dumbledore surveyed him for a moment through his glasses.
   "The odd thing, Harry, is that it may not have meant you at all. Sybill's prophecy could have applied to two wizard boys. Both born at the end of July that year. Both of whom had parents in the Order of the Phoenix. Both sets of parents having narrowly escaped Voldemort three times. One, of course, was you. The other was Neville Longbottom." Dumbledore said.
    "But then . . . but then, why was it my name on the prophecy and not Neville's?" Harry asked.
    "The official record was re - labelled after Voldemort's attack on you as a child. It seemed plain to the keeper of the Hall of Prophecy that Voldemort could only have tried to kill you because he knew you to be the one to whom Sybill was referring." Dumbledore said.
   "Then - it might not be me?" Harry said.
    "No . . . it is you, Harry." I said, slowly.
    "I am afraid, Rosabella is right. There is no doubt that it is you." Dumbledore said.
    "But you said - Neville was born at the end of July, too - and his mum and dad -" Harry said, desperately.
   "You are forgetting the next part of the prophecy, the final identifying feature of the boy who could vanquish Voldemort . . . " Dumbledore said.
  'Dark Lord will mark him as his equal' I quoted and Dumbledore nodded his head.
   "Voldemort himself would mark him as his equal. And so he did, Harry. He chose you, not Neville. He gave you the scar that has proved both blessing and curse." Dumbledore said.
  "But he might have chosen wrong! He might have marked the wrong person!" Harry said.
   "He chose the boy he thought most likely to be a danger to him. And notice this, Harry. He chose, not the pure-blood, but the half-blood, like himself. He saw himself in you before he had ever seen you. In marking you with that scar, he did not kill you, as he intended, but gave you powers, and a future, which have fitted you to escape him not once, but four times so far - something that neither your parents, nor Neville's parents, ever achieved." Dumbledore said.
    "Why did he do it, then? Why did he try and kill me as a baby? He should have waited to see whether Neville or I looked more dangerous when we were older and tried to kill whoever it was then-" Harry said, looking numb.
I wrapped my arms around Harry's waist and buried my face in his chest, trying to control the emotions threatening to overcome me. Harry wrapped his arms around my shoulders.
    "That might, indeed, have been the more practical course, except that Voldemort's information about the prophecy was incomplete. The Hog's Head inn, which Sybill chose for its cheapness, has long attracted, shall we say, a more interesting clientele than the Three Broomsticks. As you and your friends found out to your cost, and I to mine that night. It is a place where it is never safe to assume you are not being overheard. Of course, I had not dreamed, when I set out to meet Sybill Trelawney, that I would hear anything worth overhearing. My -our- one stroke of good fortune was that the eavesdropper was detected only a short way into the prophecy and thrown from the building." Dumbledore said.
   "So he only heard -?" Harry said.
   "He heard only the beginning, the part foretelling the birth of a boy in July to parents who had thrice defied Voldemort. Consequently, he could not warn his master that to attack you would be to risk transferring power to you, and marking you as his equal. So Voldemort never knew that there might be danger in attacking you, that it might be wise to wait, to learn more. He did not know that you would have power the Dark Lord knows not-" Dumbledore said.
   "But I don't! I haven't any powers he hasn't got, I couldn't fight the way he did tonight, I can't possess people or--or kill them -" Harry said in a strangled voice.
I closed my eyes tightly and I held tighter on to Harry.
   "There is a room in the Department of Mysteries, 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. That power took you to save Sirius tonight. That power also saved you from possession by Voldemort, because he could not bear to reside in a body so full of the force he detests. In the end, it mattered not that you could not close your mind. It was your heart that saved you." Dumbledore interrupted.
   "The end of the prophecy . . . it was something about . . . neither can live . . ." Harry said and I let out a shakey breath.
     ". . . while the other survives." Dumbledore said.
    "So does that mean that . . . that one of us has got to kill the other one . . . in the end?" Harry said and I could hear his despair.
    "Yes." Dumbledore said.
For a long time, neither of us spoke. Somewhere far beyond the office walls, I could hear the sound of voices, students heading down to the Great Hall for an early breakfast, perhaps.
   "I feel I owe you another explanation, Harry. You may, perhaps, have wondered why I never chose you as a prefect? I must confess . . . that I rather thought . . . you had enough responsibility to be going on with." Dumbledore said hesitantly.
Harry and I looked up at Dumbledore and saw a tear trickling down his face into his long silver beard.