A/N: Hi this is Draven Skullwise here. I have adopted this story as I saw a lot of merit in this story and want to have a go at making a good story out of it. I have tidied it up some, but still if anyone would offer to help me out with speling and such, it wold be appreciated, as I am mainly blind, so when I write it may come out sounding alright to my computer, but the spelling or grammar may be off. Any constructive criticism or encouragement would also be appreciated.
DISCLAIMER: Anything you recognize is most certainly not mine
"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 any of the portraits made a sound. Even Fawkes had fallen silent.
"Professor Dumbledore?" Harry said very quietly, for Dumbledore, still staring at the Pensieve, seemed completely lost in thought. It... Did that mean …
What did that mean?
"It meant," said Dumbledore, "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."
Harry felt as though something was closing in on him. His breathing seemed difficult again.
"It means - me?"
Dumbledore surveyed him for a moment through his glasses.
"The odd thing, Harry," he said softly, "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, were you? The other was Neville Longbottom."
"But then … but then, why was it my name on the prophecy and not Neville's?"
"The official record was re-labeled after Voldemort's attack on you as a child," said Dumbledore. "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."
"Then - it might not be me?" said Harry
"I am afraid," said Dumbledore slowly, looking as though every word cost him a great effort, "that there is no doubt that it is you."
"But you said - Neville was born at the end of July, too - and his mum and dad"
"You are forgetting the next part of the prophecy, the final identifying feature of the boy who could vanquish Voldemort … 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."
"But he might have chosen wrong!" said Harry. "He might have marked the wrong person!"
"He chose the boy he thought most likely to be a danger to him," said Dumbledore. "And notice this, Harry: he chose, not the pureblood (which, according
To his creed, is the only kind of wizard worth being or knowing) but the half-blood, like himself. He saw himself in you before he had ever seen you, and
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."
"Why did he do it, then?" said Harry, who felt numb and cold. "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"
"That might, indeed, have been the more practical course," said Dumbledore, "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 assure 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."
"So he only heard it?"
"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"
"But I don't!" said Harry, in a strangled voice. "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 –"
"There is a room in the Department of Mysteries," interrupted Dumbledore, "that is kept locked at all times. It contains a force that is at once more wonderful
And more terrible than death, than human intelligence, than the forces of nature. It is also, perhaps, the most mysterious of the many subjects for study
That resides 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."
Harry closed his eyes. If he had not gone to save Sirius, Sirius would not have died… More to stave off the moment when he would have to think of Sirius
Again, Harry asked, without caring much about the answer, "The end of the prophecy… it was something about… neither can live…"
"… While the other survives," said Dumbledore.
"So," said Harry, dredging up the words from what felt like a deep well of despair inside him,
"So does that mean that… that one of us has got to kill the other one… in the end?"
"Yes," said Dumbledore.
For a long time, neither of them spoke. Somewhere far beyond the office walls, Harry could hear the sound of voices, students heading down to the Great
Hall for an early breakfast, perhaps. It seemed impossible that there could be people in the world who still desired food, who laughed, who neither knew
nor cared that Sirius Black was gone for ever. Sirius seemed a million miles away already; even now a part of Harry still believed that if he had only
pulled back that veil, he would have found Sirius looking back at him, greeting him, perhaps, with his laugh like a bark…
"I feel I owe you another explanation, Harry," said Dumbledore hesitantly. "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."
Harry looked up at him and saw a tear trickling down Dumbledore's face into his long silver beard.
Harry turned to leave the office in a haze, but when he was about to grasp open the door he noticed the Sorting Hat out of the corner of his eye, it appeared
to be looking at him with what could be described as a patronizing gaze if that was possible for a hat.
Suddenly the hat's words leapt in his head "You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness,
no doubt about that"
Walking away from the office, Harry thought about the change in his life before and after Hogwarts, he was so different from the rushing Gryffindor he became
lately, he used to think stuff over before acting, what made the change in him?
Too lost in thought Harry wandered aimlessly in the halls until unknowingly he stood in front of the Room Of Requirements
His mind was a jumble of thoughts, his friends and how they'll take their first real battle, death eaters, Voldemort, Dumbledore, his past, his dead godfather,
and finally the Prophecy.
It made another weight on his shoulders, as if it wasn't enough to barely survive Voldemort and his followers on a yearly basis; he had to be the one to
His life consisted of misery after another, just when he thought he couldn't take anymore, Dumbledore just had to throw the Prophecy his way.
It seemed this time the light was desperate enough to thrust the war on the shoulders of fifteen years old boy that only held luck.
"Damn it all, if I have to fight I'll fight. I just can't do it on my own" Harry screamed in his mind "Either the light helps me, or the world is doomed
to darkness, I can't take it all by myself"
Harry knew deep down that if push came to shove his friends won't help him prepare, they follow Dumbledore too blindly to see he was weakening Harry. But
he just couldn't stand still and watch his parents' murderer take over the world.
Unseen by Harry a door appeared out of no where, where the door to the ROR usually appeared.
It was rather peculiar in appearance as it was pure white with the Hogwarts crest on it.
When it seemed that Harry was about to leave , the door started glowing and emitted what sounded like a phoenix song, that pulled Harry out of his thoughts
and made him look to see where he was standing, just to find out he was where he used to call forth the Room Of Requirement.
He grasped open the door to see what the room had to offer him this time, since he didn't remember asking it for anything.
Opening the door Harry looked inside and froze in shock, for standing there in front of him stood a woman that looked a lot like his deceased mother only
She held an aura of power that dwarfed what Dumbledore showed not long ago when dueling Voldemort, he was about to flee in fear but he looked in her eyes,
they were forest green color that emitted such warmth that he'd have fell in her embrace crying, had he not restrained himself.
Deciding that a woman whose eye held such warmth couldn't be unfriendly, he approached her uncertainly and asked "E-Excuse me ma'am, who are you?"
"Ease your fears child, I mean you no harm" she replied in a musical voice that reminded him of Fawkes, "Who I am, is not important at this time, but fear
not you'll know soon enough." Suddenly a box appeared out of thin air, she took it and handed it to him "take this box child and tell no one of it, open
it only when you leave Hogwarts and once you've gone through its contents, I'll find you. Farewell my child" she smiled at him and then vanished leaving
an empty room in her wake.
Harry looked at the box in hands, it was the size of a shoe box, mahogany brown, light, and had the strangest set of drawings on it.
For arranged in groups all around the surface were different sets of strange looking runes, he only recognized what looked like a set of Egyptian hieroglyphs.
But the most curious part was the center drawing; it looked like the Hogwarts crest divided vertically with an emerald green lightening bolt that looked
like his scar, below that were a staff and a sword crossed in V shape.
Deciding he should go to his dorm, he wondered where he could hide it, as if sensing his thoughts the box shrank to the size of a match box. Deciding that
the magical world contained all kinds of oddities; Harry didn't let it disturb him much. He put the shrank box in his robe pocket and went to get some sleep.
Over the next few weeks, Harry tried to deal with his grief, but found it impossible. He found that his talk with Luna helped him immensely and he felt a bond with her, even if he had no idea what the bond itself meant. He also felt great despair after talking to Sir Nick, as he knew now that Sirius has probably left the world forever. It was a resigned Harry that boarded the Hogwarts Express, returning once more to his own personal living hell, now it was only so much more with the isolation he was going to endure.