HARRY POTTER AND THE PROPHECY TRUE

Chapter twenty-one

"What if we divide into groups?" Ron asked, sitting on a large pillow on the floor of the Room of Requirements.

"How would you suggest we divide?" Malfoy asked, his head aching from the past several hours of trying to make plans for the battle they all knew were coming.

"What about by year?"

"And do what, send the first years out to see if they can stop the Dark Lord by turning him into a tea cozy?"

"There's no need to be rude," Hermione said, shutting the two up before they begin another round of arguing. She had listened to the constant onslaught of disagreements for over two hours, and the thought of another one didn't set well with her already growing fatigue. "I agree dividing into groups is an excellent idea, but we need to do it by our strengths. There are a lot of first years, who are very good with the jelly legs jinx, and that at least will distract the Death Eaters until those of us who are more advanced can step forward."

"It's as good of an idea as any," Malfoy admitted.

"How do we judge whose the best?" asked Ron.

"I can try and get a hold of McGonagall's records and you can try to get hold of Charlie's. At least it will give us a start," Hermione suggested.

"Not everyone's going to want to help," Ron said. "How do we weed out the supporters from the traitors?"

"We'll have to interview each student. I can place a simple truth charm on one of the rooms, and when the student comes in, they won't have a choice but to tell the truth."

"It's a start, I suppose," Ron said under his breath.

"The real question is, how do arrange the interviews without getting caught?" Hermione asked again.

"Since you are the Head Girl, it shouldn't be that difficult for you to take one or two students aside without getting caught," Malfoy said. "But if you start doing more than that, it's going to draw attention."

"We can make a list of those we already know as being supporters," Ron said with a bright look. "We already know quite a few."

"How do you know who's a supporter and whose not?" Malfoy asked with a frown. "It's not like you're holding secret meetings." Malfoy noticed the immediate reddening of Ron's face, his eyes widening as he turned his attention back to Hermione. "You are holding secret meetings? I thought all that stopped when Umbridge was released from duty?"

"Not exactly," Hermione said, clearing her throat.

"Why wasn't I informed? I am supposed to be one of the great five points, remember?"

"We didn't know if we could trust you or not."

"You are a Malfoy, after all," Ron added, defending his future bride. "For all we still know, this is just another one of your tricks to help Voldemort get into the castle."

"Is that what you think too?" the blond asked, looking directly at Hermione.

"Not any more," she admitted. "Harry trusts you..."

"Don't know why," Ron interrupted, but was quickly ignored by the other two.

"Dumbledore has assured us that you are on our side and Harry has faith in you. That's all the confirmation we need."

"But you're still not convinced, are you?"

"Considering how you've always acted toward Harry and the two of us, it's difficult not to give into the doubts."

"I guess that's fair," Malfoy said after a moment. "I haven't exactly been a model student."

"You are if you're a Slytherin," Ron snorted.

"If you hate me so much, why are you letting me help?"

"Because Harry believes in you," Ron snapped. "If it were up to me, I'd have turned your sorry arse over to the Ministry long ago."

"That's enough!" Hermione snapped. "I am so sick of listening to the two of you. Now I know why Harry's always so irritated. We're in this thing together, all of us," she turned to Ron and narrowed her eyes as spoke. "I don't care what happened in the past, we have to consider the present and the future now, and put all the hardships behind us."

"And what about Potter?" asked Malfoy. "You said he believes in me, but how does he stand on this whole battle idea?" Ron and Hermione exchanged glances, unsure exactly how to answer.

"He's doing what we should be doing," Hermione admitted at last. "He's taking one task at a time."

"He thinks he's going to die, doesn't he?" Malfoy asked with an expression that said he already knew the answer.

"How would you feel, if you knew you had to defeat the greatest dark wizard our world has ever seen?" Hermione watched the frown cross Malfoy's brow, as he considered the question. He had never quite looked at it in those terms before.

"I think we need to try and get this plan organized," he finally concluded. "I may not be a huge Harry Potter fan, but I can't imagine not having him around to torment."

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"When are you going to get it through you head, I don't need help?" Harry snapped when he and Ginny arrived back at their tent. "I have enough to answer for to Dumbledore with my leaving, now I have to explain your being out of school."

"I'll explain for myself, thank you," Ginny yelled back at him. "Besides, it was a good thing I did follow you. How were you going to take care of the baby? You wouldn't even look at her, much less touch her."

"That's what Gilda was for, or did you forget where I was being sent?"

"I haven't forgotten anything, but there were other things that could have happened. You could have run into a storm, or got caught off guard. Any number of things could have stopped you from getting here."

"But they didn't. I was fine and I didn't need your help. God, you make me so mad sometimes, I could just scream!"

"You know, Harry, some day you're going to have to let go of this anger you've been holding onto, and start realizing that there are other people who need you to survive. I need you and I'm not willing to stand by and wait to learn if you're going to return to me, or if Voldemort finally did what he's been threatening all these years." With that said, Ginny turned and went into the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her.

The small tent was silent. The crackle in the fireplace was the only noise, breaking up the deadly chill of the anger still lingering among the walls.

Harry sat in a chair near the fire, his head in his hands. He knew she was right. He had to let go of the anger he was holding inside him, but that meant letting his armor down and revealing his soul to those closest to him. With a deep sigh, he sat back in his chair, staring into the orange flames. Releasing the anger buried inside meant he would have to confront his fears. There was a part of him that didn't want to think, didn't want to see what tomorrow held. He wanted to hide like a little boy. He was scared and he had to admit that, but it wasn't easy. So much depended on him. Why did he have to be The-Boy-Who-Lived? Why was it his parents the ones who had to die? If only he could change it all. Then a thought came to him again and he reached inside his shirt, pulling the small teardrop crystal from its hiding place.

He stared at the light from the fire, reflected in the prism of color. It was brilliant, almost hypnotic. Mutgeb said the time would come when he knew what to wish for, but there were so many things he wanted right now, so many wishes that were on the tip of his tongue. He didn't want to die, he wasn't ready to face that and knowing there was that chance, a very real chance, only made the fear inside grow that much deeper. If he were to use his wish now, he could stop the fear, or maybe make it all go away completely. He could bring peace to the world, he could bring his parents back, he could...wait until the time was right. With another sigh, Harry returned the crystal to his chest and covered it with his hand. The time hadn't come and he knew it. He would have to be content until he knew there was only one wish inside him.

He had lay awake so many nights, feeling the fear swell up within him, until he chose to hide it beneath a wall of anger, and in order to retain his sanity he had piled all his desires beneath that. Once he managed to control that, perhaps he would know what he truly wanted to wish for. He knew the anger had its use; it kept him focused, kept him from running away, but it also kept him a prisoner. He had pushed those he loved most away from him, in order to strengthen and deepen the anger, allowing it to fill every corner of his soul. He knew it was time to let it go and embrace those around him. He knew they were sent to help him, but first, it was time to make things right with the only person whom he had ever truly loved. It was time to see...

"Harry?" the voice said, pulling him from his determined thoughts. Harry looked up and saw the tear streaked face of Ginny staring at him. "I think I want to go back to school. I'm tired of fighting with you and I just want to put all of this behind me."

"Putting it behind both of us is probably a good idea," he said, watching her bottom lip begin to quiver. "I've spent so much time wrapped up inside myself, that I forgot about those who are really important to me." He stood and walked to her, gathering her in his arms and burying his face in her fragrant red hair. "I'm scared Ginny," he admitted. "I don't want to die. I don't want to leave you."

"I won't let that happen," she promised through tones filled with sorrow.

"You can't stop it, at least not alone. I need you Ginny, I need Ron and Hermione and Malfoy, too. I have to share this with you, and I have to learn how to trust in the faith you have in me."

"I'll help you every way I can."

"You already have," he said gently, leaning away from her, tipping her chin up with his finger so he could look into her honey brown eyes. "You made me realize what a prat I was being." Ginny smiled, sniffing her tears aside.

"Not a prat exactly, more like...a boy."

"Is there anything I can do to make amends with you? As far as being a prat and a boy, that is."

"I think we can figure out a few ways," she smiled brighter, her cheeks tinting a brilliant red as he lifted her in his arms, carrying her into the small bedroom, and closing the door to the sounds of the wind whistling outside the magically produced walls.

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"I can't believe we have to baby-sit the Dursleys," Ron grumbled as he stood in the Hogsmeade station, waiting for the train bringing Harry's Muggle relatives to visit.

"We promised Harry we'd take care of them this weekend," Hermione said, for the fourth time in the past hour.

"I'd rather Fred and George take care of them, instead."

"Ron, we're Harry's best friends, if we abandoned the Dursleys to your brothers, even though they may deserve it, he'd kill both of us. He's been in a bad enough mood lately, I don't think we should give him any more fuel."

"I suppose, but I'm still not thrilled with the idea of spending an entire weekend, with that Dudley creature leering at you. If he so much as bats an eye in your direction, I'll give Malfoy another ferret to keep him company."

"Just promise me, you'll try and be nice. We won't be alone with them; your parents will be there as well as Percy and Penny. Besides, Harry's place is so big, it's doubtful we'll even bump into each other more than once a day."

"I just wish mum would have let the twins come along," Ron snickered. "I'm sure those Muggles wouldn't think twice about stepping out of line with them there."

"I'm sure they would cause more trouble than they would help. And besides, your mum has more wedding plans for us to go over. That should keep us busy most of the weekend."

"Just so long as it won't keep us too occupied at night," Ron smiled, pulling her into his embrace. "I've missed having you next to me."

"You know I promised Harry I'd find out as much as I can about the Document of Cessation."

"But to the point of not sleeping? I don't think even Harry would want you to ignore your own needs for his."

"Probably not the old Harry, but I'm not sure about the new one."

"He has been pretty bitchy lately, hasn't he?"

"I'm really worried about Ginny," Hermione admitted. "I know Harry would never do anything to hurt her, but his attitude lately is pushing her away. I hope this doesn't drive them so far apart, there's no bringing them back together."

"You know Ginny. She has a way of making Harry stop and think. I'm sure they'll be all right."

"I hope so," Hermione said, wrapping her arms around Ron's neck, just as the whistle of the train echoed its approach. "Ron, promise me you'll try your hardest to be nice to the Dursleys. Harry is counting on us."

"I'll do my best, but I can't guarantee more than that."

"Just so long as you don't turn them all into trolls."

"Hey, I never thought about that. I wonder if there's a spell in one of your many books I could use."

"You'll never find out, because you hate to study and I'm not telling. Besides, I'm not taking a single book with us."

"You're joking?" he asked in astonishment, seeing the stubborn tilt of Hermione's head. "Bloody hell, call the Daily Prophet. Hermione Granger is going an entire weekend without a book. This has to be an historical event."

"Keep it up, Ronald Weasley and you'll have a lump the size of book on your pointed head." Ron chuckled, seeing the carriage Harry had arranged pulling up at the far end of the station.

"I though Harry was getting a car?" he asked.

"He did, but it couldn't come here because of the attention it would draw, so we'll be taking a carriage into Little Hangleton and from there we'll take the car to Harry's castle."

"Harry's castle," Ron smiled. "It still sounds funny."

"Wait until the Dursleys see it," Hermione smiled, a wicked glint in her brown eyes. "That's going to be a sight worth witnessing."

"I can hardly wait. Wonder what that Muggle uncle of his will say about it?"

"'Potter a prince? Goes to figure he'd be the leader to a bunch of freaks!'" Hermione said, making her voice deep and puffing out her stomach in imitation of Vernon Dursley. Ron laughed out loud as the train pulled into the station. Maybe this wasn't going to be that bad of weekend, after all.

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"It doesn't look like the snow's going to let up any time soon," Ginny said, pulling back the draperies from the windows of the tent and looking out into the blizzard beyond.

"Dumbledore's going to kill me," Harry groaned from the bed behind her. "I was supposed to be back as soon as I delivered Voldemort's kid to Gilda. I can already guarantee enough detention to keep me busy until the Death Eaters come knocking on the door, but if I get back later than I promised, I'll be lucky not to get kicked out of Hogwart's altogether."

"You're not going to get kicked out of Hogwart's," Ginny corrected, turning to see him flop back down into his pillow. "Dumbledore knows how important this mission was, and he understands that Mutgeb would never have sent you if it wasn't urgent. As for the detention goes, you'll have me to keep you company. I'm sure after sneaking off the way I did, my mum will demand I have kitchen duty until my hands become permanently wrinkled."

"I suppose there's not really much else to do, but wait the storm out," Harry admitted, watching Ginny set on the end of the bed, her long hair cascading down her bare chest to settle just above her hips. "At least I have pleasant company, this time."

"Thank you," Ginny smiled with a warm blush. "Harry," she asked a few minutes later. "Do you believe what Mutgeb said, about not being able to predict the future the way we've always thought?"

"No," he said honestly. "I know she can. She knows what's going to happen, she's just not willing to tell us."

"Because it will change our decisions?"

"Probably, but if you want my opinion, it's because she's just a pain in the bloody arse."

"Why do you think she sent you to collect Voldemort's baby, if she knew it was a girl?"

"I don't know. Once the ceremony would have started, he wouldn't have been able to complete it, so there was no danger in leaving her there."

"There could have been for the baby. Voldemort could have become so angry, he could have caused the baby harm, or worse."

"I doubt it," Harry said with a frown. "I think Bellatrix and Malfoy had another agenda."

"Like what?"

"Most of the Death Eaters have heard the rumors about Tom Riddle being half Muggle," he began. "With that thought planted in the backs of their minds, and then the easy way he was tricked into believing his own child was a boy, would have caused his followers to begin doubting him. I think Malfoy knew how the others would react and planned on turning them against their own Dark Lord, taking the lead himself."

"But what would the baby have to do with all that?"

"Think about it. The Death Eaters were angry that Voldemort made Bellatrix the mother of his child. That combined with the fact that he was fooled by the same woman they already hate, would only prove how unreliable their leader was. After months of bragging on his 'son', predicting the great power he would have, suddenly he has to announce his bouncing baby boy was a little girl. It would show that he didn't know as much about what was going on around him, as he constantly prided himself on. He would be disgraced, especially if he went so far as to try and perform the Vita Heres. He'd be a laughing stock; he'd be humiliated in front of his followers. It would be worse then a simple baby causing his downfall sixteen years ago. This time, there wouldn't be any followers trying to bring him back to power."

"And then Bellatrix and Malfoy would convince the Death Eaters that Voldemort had grown old and weak," Ginny surmised. "They would turn against their own Judas and reign in the glory for themselves."

"That's what I think."

"But why did Mutgeb want you to steal the baby? She said the power of the two would be greater than any our world had ever seen. Doesn't that mean that there was still a chance of his using the baby to gain more power?"

"Have you ever heard of the right of cardinalis?" Ginny shook her head with a frown. "I read about it over the summer. It's a ritual that takes the powers of a infant wizard or witch and drains it into the next living kin."

"Drains it? How?"

"The child is usually either stillborn or dies shortly after birth. The parents use the spell to grant the gift of the baby's power to its remaining siblings. It's a way of keeping the child alive within the other children, sort of like, keeping its spirit or memory alive. It hasn't been used in centuries, because a medieval wizard named Blathmac, killed over a hundred newborns and drained their powers for his own dark magic. I think once Voldemort realized his child was a girl, he'd use the right of cardinalis to join the baby's powers to his own."

"That's horrible," Ginny gasped. "Do you really think he'd kill his own child, just to be more powerful?"

"He was threatened by me and tried to kill me, what's to stop him from doing it again?"

"But his own child?"

"To Voldemort, the creation of a child in his own image would be his to use as he wishes. If he saw a way of becoming more powerful, then he'd do it. I wouldn't put it past Malfoy to try the same thing."

"Do you think Mutgeb knew about this?"

"I'm sure of it. She's much smarter than she pretends and I know she's more powerful than time. Legend didn't depict her as one of the great three, if she could only predict the future to a certain point."

"Then why do you think she lied to us?"

"I don't know, but I have a really strong feeling that there's a lot more going on here than she's telling us."

"What do you think will happen to her?"

"To who?"

"The baby." Harry sighed, pulling his arm behind his head.

"I don't know," he answered honestly, trying not to think about what kind of life awaited the innocent little girl.

"How can you hate her so much?" Ginny asked, shifting her weight on the bed, so she was sitting cross-legged at the foot. "She's not responsible for everything her father did to you."

"I wasn't responsible for what my parents did either, but that didn't stop him from trying to kill me."

"Is that what you wanted? To kill her?" Harry frowned. It wasn't as if he hadn't asked himself that very question over the course of their trip.

"I don't know," he answered softly. Silence began to swell up between the two as they fell into their own private thoughts.

"Can you ever forgive them?" Ginny asked at last.

"Who?"

"Your parents. Can you ever forgive them for leaving you?" Harry sat up on his elbows, staring at the young woman sitting naked at his feet.

"Is that what you think? I hate my parents for leaving me? It wasn't their choice. They were betrayed by someone they thought was their friend."

"But it was their actions that ultimately caused their deaths, wasn't it? Isn't that the real reason you've been so angry? You blame your parents for putting you in this predicament? Weren't they the reason, your Muggle relatives raised you? Isn't it their fault you never knew happiness or love?" Harry's face became rigid again, his jaw set in anger, his eyes turning a dark green.

"Next thing you're going to say is that I blame Dumbledore of enlisting them in his fight, or Sirius for following his ideals of ridding the world of evil."

"Don't you?" Harry tossed the blanket aside and stood, gathering his pants from the floor where he had kicked them off the night before.

"I can't believe you would ever assume that I hate my parents," he snapped, zipping the front of his jeans. "And Dumbledore, he's the closest thing to family I have. How could I blame him for my parents' deaths? It was Voldemort's fault, it was his demented ideas of grandeur that killed them."

"I've seen your thoughts, Harry," Ginny said softly, glancing up at the face that turned to her. "I don't want to fight with you again, but I know what's in your heart. Your mind is open when you're asleep. I've seen the anger and I know the torment you've been hiding."

"You've gone mental, Ginny. Remind me to have Madame Pomfrey examine your head when we return to Hogwart's." Harry left the room, slamming the door hard behind him.

He began pacing the floor, his fists clenched in tight balls, his jaw throbbing with pain as he began grinding his teeth. The wind and snow seemed to become worse, as his mood grew darker. The heat from the fireplace made breathing seem impossible, as he panted for air. The door behind him opened slowly and he turned. His anger was alive again and this time he demanded satisfaction.

"I do not hate my parents!" he shouted at the now robed red head. "I can't believe you would ever say such a thing."

"I never said you hated them, Harry. You did." Ginny's tone was soft as a whisper, as she reached out for the back of one of the chairs by the fireplace. Where Harry was hot and ready to extinguish the flames burning brilliantly in the stone hearth, she was ready to increase it, and make it grow so hot it would reach her insides that had gone cold as ice when he turned to stare at her.

"I do not hate my parents!" he shouted again, the magical walls shaking with the sound of his raised voice. Ginny didn't say anything, she just stood there, watching him begin his pacing again, mumbling to himself.

"I would never blame my parents for leaving me. It was Pettigrew, it was his fault they were killed. Sirius tried to stop him, but he couldn't reach them in time. I just wish I were older, I'd have killed the bastard myself. I should have killed him back in the Shrieking Shack when I had the chance, I should have let Sirius and Moony kill him. I just wish I could have done more then take Voldemort's powers from him." As Harry paced, he began to see images familiar to him. Images of dreams he had dreamed since he was a child. He could see himself as a child, crying in the crib as Hagrid lifted him from the bloody sheets. He saw the body of his mother lying on the floor and tried to reach for her. He wanted his mummy, but Hagrid patted him on the back and began to sob into his dark hair.

"Your mummy's gone away," he had said. "She's gone away and you can't join her."

"Gone away," Harry said softly to himself, unaware he had spoken the words Hagrid had said aloud. "I didn't want her to go away, I wanted her...I needed her. I wanted my mummy, I wanted her to hold me and kiss me and tell me everything was all right. But she wouldn't wake up, she just lay there and Hagrid took me downstairs and I saw my dad. Hagrid was crying. He said he was taking me far away, but when we went outside I saw Sirius. He took and kissed me and gave me a hug, then he gave Hagrid the keys to his motorbike and said he wasn't going to need it anymore. Why didn't he take me with him? I didn't want to go with Hagrid, I wanted my mummy." Harry fell to the carpet, his heart ripping out of his chest, his hands shaking as he held them to his moist face.

There was warmth touching his shoulders and he turned into it, feeling the warm arms wrap around him. He couldn't speak, he could barely breath, all he could do was cry. The tears of sixteen years penned up inside him, burst forth like a damn exploding. He couldn't control them any longer.

"I don't hate my parents," he finally sobbed. "But I wish it never happened. I want them back, Ginny. I want my mum and dad back."

"I know Harry, but that can't be. All you can do now is forgive them and never forget what they've done for you."

"I loved them so much," he sobbed again, holding her as tightly as he could. "I was just a baby. I just wanted to be with them."

"They loved you too, Harry. They would never have left you if they had a choice. They loved you so much; they wanted a perfect world for you. They wanted you to grow to be a great wizard, and you have. They would be very proud of you."

"I just want them back," he whispered, his sorrow and tears easing slightly.

"Perhaps when the time comes, you can bring them back."

"I will," he promised through tones of moisture. "I will bring them back and we'll be as we should have been, we'll be together forever. We'll be a family again."

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The castle was dark and cold; the only sounds echoing in the stillness were the soft scurrying feet of hidden mice. The sound of the wind whistled through the broken panes of glass, bringing with it the cold, wet snow that seemed to never want to end. Lying beneath the thick pile of blankets were two lone figures, embraced for warmth. The long black hair of the woman was spread out across the top of the blankets, the heavy breathing of the blond laying next to her assured her he was asleep. She rolled to her back and looked up at the cracked plaster on the ceiling. Her heart felt as old and weathered as these old ruins.

"I will get her back, Potter," Bellatrix whispered through the night's darkness. "You may have stopped my plans, but you will never stop me. I will get my child and I will see to it you pay for what you've done." The soft moan next to her brought her eyes back to the man, watching as he rolled to his side.

"I have had to do many things in order to get what I wanted," she thought silently. "I deserved what she could have done for me. I deserved to have this world as mine, and I will have it. So help me, Potter. I will rule this world and that child will see that I do."