HARRY POTTER AND THE PROPHECY TRUE

Chapter Twenty-five

Over the next four months, all at Hogwart's was quiet. The upper students were studying for their N.E.W.T.S.; while those in the fifth year were working hard to pass their O.W.L.S. Dumbledore had kept his promise to Harry during the Christmas holiday. Nobody was harmed during the three attacks Voldemort had planned. The news that the Ministry had successfully stopped all three attacks and returned not only half a dozen Dementors to Azkaban, but nine dangerous Death Eaters as well, circulated among the different houses. The mood had lightened with the changing of seasons and slipping popularity of the Dark Lord, which most were now calling by name, making everyone forget about the loss of Quidditch, or how Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione had practically forced Trelawney from her classroom and residence to hold up with Malfoy. For a few short weeks, all seemed right in the world, which only made Harry feel jumpy and anxious.

Hermione was doing her usual studying, while Ron grumbled about the complicated spells and intense homework. Ginny was busy at work trying to complete a pile of homework assigned by Binns, McGonagall and Snape, while Malfoy and Harry were actually working on some very dark magic together. Malfoy had mentioned the knowledge he had gained from his father over the years, and suggested that Harry try and familiarize himself with them incase Voldemort - which Malfoy was now calling him - used any of them against him.

June arrived and the day of the N.E.W.T.S. found Hermione, Ron, Harry and Malfoy all sitting at desks in the Great Hall, just as they had for their O.W.L.S. The written examination was hard, much harder than even Hermione had predicted, and took nearly six hours to complete. With the anticipation of the practical spells being arranged for the next day, the castle grew silent as night approached. Books and wands were at hand during the evening meal, with seventh year students transfiguring their water goblets into Nifflers, who immediately began scurrying across the shinny plates and goblets, causing havoc before they could be trapped and changed back. Night made its way into the cracks of castle, creating a dreary sleep among its occupants.

Harry had arranged to meet Ginny in the Room of Requirements after dinner, and hurried to find her standing outside the passageway that lead to their hideaway. He frowned when he saw the disappointed expression on her face.

"What's the matter?" he asked her in a hushed whisper as not to attract too much attention to themselves.

"Ron and Hermione have arranged for several of the seventh years to practice in the Room of Requirements," she said with a soft grunt. "We can't use the room." Harry thought for a moment, and then smiled.

"If they're in there, then we won't be disturbed back in our room," Harry said with a wink.

"Don't be so sure of that," she said, her expression still filled with disappointment. "Malfoy is there studying. He's determined to achieve a higher score than his father did, to prove he's a better man or some such rubbish."

"We could try the old common room."

"Too many students are there working on their N.E.W.T.S. or their O.W.L.S. We're just doomed to not be together until testing is over."

"Hey Harry," Ron said emerging from the door down the hall. "We need you in here. We're having a hard time doing the Prior Incantato spell."

"Duty calls Mr. Potter," Ginny smiled bitterly, then turned and walked away.

"What's with her?" Ron asked stepping up to Harry's side.

"Just a little frustrated," Harry said with a sigh, then followed Ron back into the room he had hoped to be spending the night with Ginny in.

Several hours passed by, before they all felt comfortable with the spells McGonagall had warned they would be tested on. Long into the wee hours of the morning, Harry, Ron and Hermione finally found their way back up the ladder to their private common room. Ginny had already turned in, while Malfoy was fast asleep across an open book. Harry was exhausted and certain there wasn't another ounce of strength left in him to carry his feet into his room. He collapsed on the large sofa in front of the fire, as Ron and Hermione followed suit, falling into matching chairs nearby. They sat in a numb stupor, staring into the empty fireplace. The best thing that could happen to them now, was that tomorrow would somehow find a way of skipping over them.

Just as Harry was about to give up and leave the room, the door to Ginny and Hermione's room opened up. Inside the threshold was a very sleepy young red head. Harry couldn't help but smile. Even in her state of exhaustion, hair tussled and eyes rimmed in pale circles, she was beautiful. He patted the cushion next to him and held out his arm as she curled up beside him, her head resting on his chest.

"Did you master your spells?" she asked with a yawn.

"I'd say we at least touched basis on them. How about you? Get your homework done?"

"Yeah, even Snape's horrid four yard parchment on truth serums. Oh, and speaking of Snape, I saw Neville tonight. I thought he'd be practicing with your guys?"

"He was, but he gave up and went to bed. I think Luna's been keeping him up too late," Harry chuckled, kissing the top of her head.

"Did he tell you about his visits with his dad?"

"No, in fact I've completely forgotten to ask him about them."

"Well, he told me his father remembers him, but he's been looking for him as a baby. He has no comprehension that Mrs. Longbottom is gone, or where he is. He's just conducting his days as if he were living seventeen years ago. He even holds conversation with Neville as though he were one of the members of the Order. He's been doing a lot of talking about plans to find the Green Flame Torch."

"Too bad they never learned how to use it," Harry said sadly.

"Too bad they never knew what it was," Hermione said, adding to the conversation.

"It's a bloody good thing, if you ask me," Ron commented. "Can you imagine what would have happened seventeen years ago, if Voldemort would have learned the secret behind the Green Flame Torch?"

"He'd have been more powerful then he already was," Malfoy added, sitting up from his book.

"Well, at least Neville has his father back - sort of," Ginny said. "I just can't help feeling sorry for him. He's that close to his father, but he doesn't even know who he is. It has to be heart wrenching."

"I'm sure it is," Harry said, remembering his promise to bring his parents back. Perhaps he should think about expanding his wish, to include Neville's parents - maybe even Sirius.

"So how did your practicing go?" Malfoy asked, joining the small group as he sat in a chair opposite Ron and Hermione.

"We're ready," Ron said quickly. "I think even Dumbledore would be surprised at how well we're doing."

"He doesn't look very well, does he?" Hermione asked, her tone appearing somewhat distracted and distant.

"Who?" Ron asked with a frown.

"Dumbledore," she answered, turning her attention back to the small group. "He looks rather...tired, I think. I saw him today in the corridor and he seemed to be having a difficult time climbing the stairs to the second floor."

"Did you ask him about it?" Ginny asked.

"No, but I asked if I could help him. He just smiled like he always does and said he was just enjoying the walk, but he seemed rather pale and out of breath."

"Well, he is old," Ron commented.

"It's more than that, Ron," Hermione said with a serious expression. "I don't think he's well. Do you think maybe we should speak with Professor McGonagall or Madame Pomfrey?"

"I think we should just leave well enough alone," Ron scolded. "We've already got our plates full with our N.E.W.T.S. The last thing we need is to have any distractions. Speaking of which," Ron asked, turning his attention back to Malfoy. "How are your spells coming? Think you can beat your daddy?"

"I don't want to beat him, Weasley, I want to surpass him. I don't want people to remember the name of Malfoy with thoughts of Death Eaters. I'd like to know my children will have a future where people won't be staring and whispering behind their backs."

"Speaking of children," Ron smirked toward the blond. "How's Parvati lately? Have any more premonitions about your safety?"

"Knock it off Ron," Harry warned with a tired glare of his green eyes. "I'm sorry I ever told any of you what I saw in Voldemort's mind. It just put fuel on the fire."

"No it didn't Potter," Malfoy said with an honest smile. "Weasley and I have decided that we don't like each other, any more than you and I like each other. The only difference is, it's easier to be civil to you since you have more of a refined blood than he does. He's just crude and disgusting, but it's in his genes, he can't help it."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Ron snapped, leaning forward in his seat as though he were ready to pounce.

"It means you're lower class, much lower than Potter and definitely beneath a Malfoy," the blond said with a smirk.

"Is that so? Well, how about I just give you a shove off that pedestal you've placed yourself on, then?"

"Think you can?"

"Enough!" Harry barked, then ran a tired hand through his messy hair. "I give up. You two are too much alike to ever get along. I'm going to bed before I have to put both of you in suspension and loose points on my N.E.W.T.S."

"We are nothing alike," Malfoy snarled as Harry finished speaking, watching the dark haired wizard lean down and kiss the young woman next to him, before turning around and walking toward their bedroom door.

"At least my father isn't a Death Eater," Ron clarified loudly, more for Harry's benefit than Malfoy's.

Harry closed the door behind him, falling to the mattress of his bed. He had decided weeks ago to just let those two fight it out, but every time they started, he always felt as though they would literally kill each other, and until Dumbledore decided otherwise, they needed each other.

The door to the bedroom opened, and the two entered, still arguing about whose family was better. Harry rolled over on his bed and tugged at the curtains, closing them around him. It did nothing to keep the noise out, but at least it was dark and he could bury his head beneath his pillow long enough to drift off to sleep.

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"Mr. Potter," Greasley said in greeting the next afternoon, as Harry approached his table for his examination in Transfigurations. "I would like for you to change this water pitcher into a unicorn please." Harry frowned. That was much harder than changing it into a small Niffler. Harry thought hard, and then pointed his wand toward the pitcher.

"You can do it," he told himself, remembering the much harder tasks he had already endured that day. With a deep breath, he issued the spell.

"Abeo Dyr." A white light shot out from the tip of his wand and Harry stepped back as the water pitcher changed into a miniature, almost doll-like unicorn.

"Not bad, Mr. Potter, but hardly of standard size," Greasley said, lifting his quill to write on the parchment.

"I beg your pardon sir," Harry began thinking quickly. "But you did not clarify what size you wished me to transfigure. Considering the size of the pitcher, it was only logical to make the unicorn of equal dimensions."

"Quite right," Greasley said a moment later, staring down at the white animal pawing at the table. "Do you think you can make it grow to a height of four hands?" Harry drew a deep breath. Why couldn't he have just kept his mouth shut and accepted a lower mark?

"Ingrandire," he said, pointing the tip of his wand to the small creature, then stepping back as it began growing on top of the table, cracking and crashing the wooden object beneath its weight."

"Mr. Potter!" Greasley snapped, jumping back in time to save his feet from being squashed beneath the now enlarged unicorn.

"I'm sorry sir, but you didn't say to take it off the table," Harry said, rather enjoying the idea of toying with this investigator's rules.

"Very well, you're dismissed. Please leave," Greasley said, handing Harry his parchment to take to his next assignment. Without hesitation, Harry snatched the sheet of paper and hurried out of the room, before he was asked to make the transfiguration disappear.

Outside the Great Hall, a small group of Gryffindors was gathered, each one looking grim and depressed. Harry approached them, a smile etching his face as he thought of the look Greasley gave him.

"Why are you so happy?" Seamus asked.

"Nothing. What are you guys doing?"

"Waiting for the Slytherin to finish with Potions," Dan Thomas asked.

"How'd you do with transfigurations, Harry?" Ron asked, his shirt a disheveled mess, his tie held together by a small knot near the end.

"I think I did all right," Harry said. "There is a bright side. At least we don't have to pass Divination's or History of Magic in order to get our N.E.W.T.S."

"That's not the brightest side, but it will do," Ron grumbled as Hermione stepped out of the Great Hall, a wide smile greeting the small group.

"I swear, if you say that was the easiest task you've ever done, I'm liable to pop you one," Ron snarled at the young woman, who in little more then three weeks, would become his bride.

"Well, it was," she answered. "Ask Harry, he did it."

"You did?" Ron nearly screeched. Harry blushed softly, trying to hide the amusement in his eyes.

"Nobody knows yet if they passed or not. How do you know that you didn't?"

"Because I was so nervous, my unicorn came out with a camel's hump and twin horns, that's how," Ron barked, his face red with irritation and anger.

"Honestly Ronald," Hermione scolded.

"At least you were able to transfigure something," Seamus grumbled. "I was so nervous, I barely got more than a water pitcher with legs."

"You've all had Transfiguration classes for seven years," Hermione began, her tone thick with frustration. "Surely, you could do a simple spell as conjuring up a unicorn. How could you possibly not pass that?"

"Maybe because we're not the great Hermione Granger," Parvati snapped as she stepped up behind the group.

"Watch it Parvati," Ron warned, stepping to his girlfriend's side, and slipping a warm hand around her waist. "At least Hermione didn't lead her boyfriend into one of Voldemort's traps."

"How did you hear about that?" Parvati asked, her face suddenly white, her eyes large dark pools.

"Everyone knows about it," Seamus commented.

"It's bad enough to actually believe what Trelawney tells you in her stupid classes," Dean continued, "but to believe that she could possibly have true visions, is just mental."

"That old bat is as blind with her inner eye, as she is with the two in her head," Ron added, watching Parvati's eyes narrow.

"She happens to be a very talented witch," Parvati insisted.

"The only talent that old bat has, is putting people to sleep."

"You're a very rude person, Ronald Weasley."

"But honest," Malfoy said as he stepped out of the hallway behind the group. Parvati turned and looked at the boy, her cheeks flushed with color as she lowered her eyes.

"Draco," she began, but stopped speaking when she realized he wasn't looking at her, but rather at his new roommates.

"Smythers has developed a headache," he told the others. "He has canceled the rest of the session for the day."

"What did you do, Malfoy, set a blast-ended skrewt on him?" Ron asked with a sneer.

"No Weasley, I told him you were next to see him."

"What do you say, we all get a bite to eat and head back upstairs and study?" Hermione asked, pulling Ron's arm toward the tables set up near the lake for the students as a picnic, since the Great Hall was otherwise occupied. The Gryffindors walked behind the couple, leaving Harry to look back at Malfoy, noticing Parvati sitting on the top step of the entrance, alone and wiping away her tears.

"Maybe she's not your true love, Malfoy," Harry said softly, stopping the blond and nodding his head toward the dark haired girl. "But she cares about you. Regardless of what Trelawney made her believe, I think she really does have feelings for you. And I think you care for her, as well. Maybe you should try talking to her. She's pretty torn up about what she's done."

"Parvati Patil is nothing more than a pleasant distraction," Malfoy insisted in his usual arrogant tone.

"If that's what you believe, then why didn't you turn her in to Dumbledore and Snape that night? Why did you protect her?" Harry turned his back on the young Slytherin and left him standing dumbfounded in the path leading to the lake.

"Where's Malfoy?" Ron asked in a bitter tone, as Harry joined them. He glanced behind him and saw the young blond walking back into the castle with Parvati, then smiled.

"He's got something else to do." Ron narrowed his eyes, but lost track of what he was thinking when the large tentacle of the giant squid reached up and slapped down against the water's surface, spraying water all over the students standing and sitting near the lake's edge.

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Friday night found the castle alive with laughter and music. The N.E.W.T.S. were over, the O.W.L.S. were completed and the stress of studying was nearly over. Now all the students had to worry about were finals. Dumbledore was so relieved at what the investigators had told him about the students' progress, that he had ordered a school wide celebration. Magical flutes, guitars and drums had been set in the corner, playing happily as the students laughed and ate, talking about the complex tasks they had endured and survived. With the enchanted ceiling displaying the clear spring night outside, the mood continued to grow cheerful. Even Snape looked rather content through his sour expression. All was going well, until a commotion caught the attention of the students, each turning toward the head table, one by one.

"Albus, are you all right?" McGonagall said, a little loud in order to be heard over the music. Professor Dumbledore smiled weakly, standing on what appeared to be weak legs.

"I'm just tired," he insisted. "Please continue your celebration." He waved his hand in a casual gesture of dismissal, turning and walking down the steps. He reached the door that divided the Great Hall from the back hall. Harry watched as the Headmaster leaned forward, his weight resting on the arm that reached out, before he crumpled to the floor. The voices of the room gasped, as the teachers all hurried to the old man's side. Snape conjured up a stretcher as Pomfrey began barking out orders. Within minutes, the Great Hall was void of teachers, left in the care of the Head Boy and Girl. Hermione stared at Ron, then turned to the stunned silence of the students.

"We...we should go back to our houses, until we hear something," Hermione said, her throat suddenly thick, her eyes stinging with tears. Ron slipped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her against him, cradling her in his warm embrace.

"Prefects, escort your houses back to your dormitory," Ron said over the soft whispers.

"I'm going to the hospital wing," Harry said a moment later as they gathered out in the main hall.

"I'm coming with you," Ginny insisted.

"So are we," Ron said, still holding Hermione in his arms.

"No," Harry argued. "The students are going to need reassuring. I'll let you know as soon as I can." Without hesitation, he turned and rushed up the stairs, leaving the others to watch his departure.

Inside the hospital wing, Harry found McGonagall, Snape, Trelawney and Pomfrey gathered around a bed at the far end of the room. He approached slowly, listening to the whispering voices.

"What's wrong?" he asked as Madame Pomfrey looked up. "What's the matter with Professor Dumbledore?"

"I'm sorry," Pomfrey said sadly, tears filling her eyes.

"What do you mean? You can heal him."

"I'm sorry Potter," Pomfrey said again, the tears reaching her voice and make them sound strangled. "There's nothing I can do. It's too late."

"Potter," Snape said in a bitter tone "Return to your house at once. This is no place for students."

"No," Dumbledore said in a soft voice. "I want to see him. Harry...come here." Harry stepped cautiously to the Headmaster, taking the outstretched hand in his own and noticing how cold it was.

"Professor," Harry said with a frown, but was greeted with a warm, weak smile from the old man lying in the bed.

"I wanted to be here for you...when you confronted....Lord Voldemort," the old man said weakly. "You're a strong wizard...never forget that. Look within yourself...for the answers."

"I can't do this without you, Professor," Harry said in a sad tone. "I need you."

"You are a wise young man...trust in your powers," Dumbledore gasped. "I'll always...be...here....Har..." Harry gasped, holding the old man's hand tighter.

"Professor?" he asked, watching the eyes he had so long admired and looked to for wisdom close. The room was silent, broken only the by the sobs of sorrow from Pomfrey, Trelawney and McGonagall. Harry stood there for several seconds, watching the life drain from the pale face of the greatest wizard who ever lived. Slowly, he laid the lifeless hand across the silent chest and walked away, stunned and filled with a deep sorrow. As he neared the door, he heard the comments of Snape echo through his mind.

"We have no choice now, but to send the students home. Without Professor Dumbledore, the castle is vulnerable. There is nothing to stop the Dark Lord from attacking."

"This is the end of Hogwart's," McGonagall sobbed.

"What's more," Snape said in a soft yet slightly cheerful tone. "It's the end of Harry Potter."

The walk to the North tower seemed like the longest journey he had ever made. Without noticing how he had gotten there, Harry found himself sitting on the sofa near the dark fireplace. Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Malfoy gathered around him, waiting patiently for him to speak. In a weak tone, Harry found a voice speaking from his throat, but somehow the words seemed foreign.

"Professor Dumbledore is dead," he said softly. The room was deathly silent as tears flowed from the eyes of those around him.

"What do we do now?" Ron asked, his tone thick with emotion. "What will happen to Hogwart's without him?"

"The students are being sent home."

"But they can't do that," Hermione interrupted, wiping her tears with the back of her sleeve. "Without Dumbledore the school is unprotected. There is nothing to stop Voldemort."

"He can't get his hands on Hogwart's," Ginny said, wiping tears from her freckled cheeks.

"There's nothing we can do about it," Harry said sadly. "Dumbledore was the keeper of the Terra Auxilium Ducere. Without him to protect it, it could fall into Voldemort's hands."

"What's the Terra whatever?" Ron asked.

"It's a device to keep harmony in the world," Malfoy began. "It keeps a balance between our world and the Muggle world."

"Without it, there's nothing to protect the Muggles against the dark wizards taking control of them," Harry continued.

"So if Voldemort finds out Dumbledore is dead and the school is unprotected..." Hermione began.

"Then it's the end of life as we know it."

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A cold laughter echoed among the cracks and mold of the old stone castle. The moonlight filtered through the torn curtains and broken windows, but couldn't make it past the circle of dark robes gathered around the room. Red eyes turned toward those gathered around and his thin lips smiled wide, revealing the thick yellow coating covering the once white teeth.

"It has happened at last," Voldemort said, his tone actually lifting in a high pitched shrill. "Dumbledore is dead. Gather the Death Eaters. Hogwart's is ours."