Harry Potter and the Second Prophecy

Chapter 8 - Riddle Me This

Harry spent a good portion of the next day wondering whether or not to talk to Camilia about having kissed her the night before; to both his relief and dismay, she herself said not a word about it and pretended as though nothing at all had occurred. Instead, she spent most of her day with Malfoy, and engaged in normal conversations with him, Hermione and Ron, staring him in the eyes with nary a suggestion that anything might be even the slightest bit off.

Harry felt no jealousy as he watched Camilia walk away from the Gryffindor table after lunch and directly into Malfoy's arms, and only the barest hint of it when he noticed Malfoy slide his hand over her buttocks on the way out the door to the Great Hall, but he tried his best to ignore it and join in the conversation Ron and Hermione were having.

"...Still don't know how she can snog that git - " Ron was saying.

Hermione interrupted, as usual. "For God's sake, Ron, you'd think to listen to you that you're in love with her!" And with that, Hermione swept her bookbag from the table, hurled it over her shoulder, and stormed from the room. Harry realized he had missed his opportunity to join in.

"...what's gotten into her...just a joke..." Ron was muttering under his breath, now bright red.

Harry finally had lost his patience. He decided to let Ron in on what had to have been the world's most obvious secret. "Ron, if anyone is the git here, it has got to be you. How can you be so oblivious?"

"Oblivious? What are you on about, Harry?" he demanded. Ron's reaction was to rear on his best friend.

"Ron!...Oh, bloody hell...HERMIONE'S IN LOVE WITH YOU, YOU STUPID GIT!"

It seemed that the entire Hall had chosen that precise moment not to say a word. Harry's words echoed throughout the Hall, so loudly, in fact, that even the professors at the head table looked up from their lunches.

Ron was dumbfounded. His mouth dropped open and bobbed in place for just a moment, up and down, up and down, and when Harry realized Ron's jaw would not cease it's motions any time soon, he offered a half-smile and said "Sorry, mate. Someone had to tell you, sooner or later. Thought it'd be best coming from me."

Ron's mouth closed, and he glanced around him at the silent crowd without ever turning his head. "Well, then," he began, "I am a git, aren't I?" Then, under his breath, so quietly that Harry had to strain to hear, Ron asked, "Harry...is she...really...are you sure?" Harry nodded seriously. "Right then," responded Ron. "Going to the Common Room. See you." And with that, Ron strode from the room, purposefully, proudly, and blushing something fierce. All eyes turned to follow his progress. He had almost reached the door when the room erupted into a cacophony of raucous yells and thunderous applause. For all appearances, Ron made no notice of the noise expect to blush a deeper shade of lobster, and then he was gone.

* * * * * * * *

Other than the immediate formation of a sappy new couple consisting of Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, the week passed uneventfully. Harry found himself looking forward to Camilia's next lesson with Dumbledore perhaps more than was she herself, though he wasn't sure whether it was because of the information he knew he'd be able to glean from her afterward, or because he thought he'd be able to find another excuse to kiss her afterward. Both reasons were equally applicable, he thought.

Harry could never have been prepared, though, for what he would hear from Camilia about what had transpired during this week's lesson.

She stepped through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor Common Room at half past one in the morning on Thursday. Harry had fallen asleep on the rug in front of the fire with his head on his Potions textbook. With the exception of Harry, there was no one else in the Common Room. Even Ron and Hermione had given up their snogging some hours before in order to retire.

Camilia looked haggard, as though she'd been through the proverbial wringer. She did not at first notice Harry as he was on the floor, but glanced about the room at head-level for any stray students, and when she found there were none, she dropped to her knees there by the portrait hole and brought her forehead to rest on the floor. Harry had seen her fall to the floor and rushed to her side just as she began to sit up, bringing her hands to her face. She rubbed her hands up her face and pressed on her eyelids with her palms - hard - then lifted her chin so her face slid up and out of her hands, at which point she realized she was sitting eye-to-eye with Harry. She let out and pulled in a rush of air, and then without warning broke into wild sobs and fell about his neck. He put his arms around her, pleading with her to calm herself, promising her it would all be okay, assuring her that his presence would solve anything that might be wrong, begging her to explain to him the source of her misery. When it regained her composure, he helped her rise from the floor and led her to the couch in front of the fire, which had all but died.

He turned her face toward his. "Camilia, please, tell me...what happened tonight?" He knew it had to be horrendous; the clock read close to two in the morning, and he couldn't imagine what had kept her so long with the Headmaster.

Camilia hesitated, then stammered "Po...po...polyjuice...p...p...p... potion." Looking once more as though she'd lose it, she drew in an enormous breath and held it, then let it out all at once through her mouth. Her breathing became quick and loud. "When...when I went in, it was a...a new voice inviting me. I didn't know who...who...I didn't know, and I went in, and there was this boy, seventeen, maybe, and he was so handsome, so...he was so handsome. His voice was silk, you know?, and he told me to sit, and he sat at Albus' desk, put his feet up, and his hair was...his eyes...Harry, his eyes were...like yours, but hard. His eyes were so hard, and he was beautiful. He was beautiful."

Harry was perplexed; who on earth could she be talking about, let alone making use of the Headmaster's Office? He waited for her to explain further, but she had stopped, apparently contemplating the beauty of this boy, so he prodded her to continue.

Camilia looked at him as though just noticing him. "I'm sorry, Harry, I..." She paused again, thinking. "He was beautiful, it's true, but it was a beauty like...like the Devil. It was seductive and sexy and dangerous and cruel and so erotic, and he looked at me like he was looking through me, and he took his feet down and leaned forward across the desk and then he said...he said...oh, God, he said 'I know you want me.'" Camilia looked as though she might cry again, and Harry put his arms around her, but she shoved him away. "You don't understand!" He looked at her, incredulous, and she blurted, "He was right!" With that, she came apart again and fell into Harry's open arms, burying her face in his robes.

He did not know how much time had passed, but he knew it had to have been hours because he ached all over, and there she was, still sound asleep, draped across him on the couch. Light had just begun to leak through the arrow slits in the stairway turrets, and he shivered grandly, causing Camilia to shift in her sleep. He almost didn't have the heart to rouse her, but knew he had to understand the significance behind what she'd told him minutes? hours? before.

Harry gently shook her upper arm and called her name softly, and she immediately sat bolt upright. She rubbed her face with her hands again, looked at Harry through rapidly blinking eyes, shook the exhaustion from her head, and then asked, "Where do you want to go?" He thought for a moment, then patted her hand and told her he'd be right back.

While he was gone, wherever he'd gone, she took the time to clear her mind and fight off her desperate need for sleep. It seemed only a few seconds and he was back, pulling out a large, expandable piece of parchment, muttering a brief incantation about solemnly swearing to something, and then took her by the hand he'd patted moments before and led her out the portrait hole.

She had no idea where they were going, but he did; he knew that Dobby would certainly be able to find something in the kitchen to wake them up enough to talk, and that he'd also be sure to muster them up some privacy. After tickling a pear in a fruit bowl on a giant tapestry - an odd thing to choose to do, thought Camilia - a door appeared in the wall behind the tapestry, and they stepped into the school's Kitchens. Camilia hung back a moment and watched a dozen ugly creatures run to and fro in the kitchen, and then noticed a particularly odd elf-like animal race toward Harry, calling him by name and bowing low to him.

"Mr. Harry Potter, sir! Dobby is honored you would visit him!" the creature exclaimed, again bowing low.

"Dobby, it's good to see you. Listen, I don't have much time to talk, I'm sorry, but I need a favor from you..." Harry trailed off.

"Oh, Dobby is happy to be doing anything for Mr. Harry Potter, sir! What will you ask of Dobby, Mr. Harry Potter, sir? Can Dobby get you - "

Harry cut him off. "What we really need, Dobby, is a couple of mugs of some extremely strong coffee. Camilia and I need to talk just now, and though we need to speak privately, we are both very tired and need a quiet place to continue our conversation -"

At this point, Dobby cut Harry off. "Dobby is finding you both some place to continue your talking, and Dobby will be overjoyed to fetch Mr. Harry Potter some hot coffee, sir!" With that, Dobby raced to a sideboard in the kitchen to attend to the tasks Harry had set forth, and Camilia stared blankly at Harry. She then looked back at the creatures running around the room and shook her head.

"Am I dreaming?" she asked Harry under her breath. "What are these things, Harry?"

"I take it you've never seen a house elf before," replied Harry.

"These are house elves?" she spluttered.

Harry was amused by the consternation on Camilia's face. "It's normal. I was shocked when I first met Dobby, too."

"So, you know that one? Why does he call you Mr. Harry Potter sir? And what's with the fifty million socks and hats and scarves?" she stammered.

"One thing at a time. I do know him, his name is Dobby, and we've both saved one another's lives. It's a long story. As for the rest, you'll catch on in time, not to worry." Dobby was rushing back to them with a tray of mugs and a large pot of black coffee. "But for now, suffice it to say he's a friend, and he'll take good care of us."

Dobby came within five feet of them and motioned toward them to follow him into an adjoining room. The room was thirty feet high with an old table and chairs in the center, and all the walls were lined with floor-to-ceiling shelves. The shelves contained root vegetables of every kind, from potatoes to carrots to rutabagas to onions, from turnips to celery to parsnips and radishes. As Harry and Camilia looked about the room, Dobby set their tray of coffee on the table and ushered them into the chairs. Once Harry had sat, Dobby pushed in his chair for him, checked to see that he was comfortable, and bowed once more to Harry. "Dobby will come back in two hours to refill Mr. Harry Potter's coffee pot, Harry Potter, sir. Harry Potter should call Dobby if he wants more coffee before then."

"Thank you, Dobby," said Harry. "Oh, and Dobby...if anyone comes looking for us, would you mind...I mean, could you tell them we...oh, I don't know, just don't tell them we're here, all right?"

"No, sir, Harry Potter, sir, Dobby will not tell. Dobby will never tell anything that Mr. Harry Potter does not want Dobby to tell." Dobby smiled, nodded, and bowed his way out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Camilia stared long and hard at the door after it had been closed, then abruptly turned to her mug, poured herself a full cup of coffee, and downed the entire contents of her mug in one long, continuous swallow. She set down her mug, sighed in the direction of the table, and lifted her eyes, followed by her face, to meet Harry. "Where did I leave off?" she inquired.

"Some bloke in Professor Dumbledore's office told you you wanted him," Harry reminded her.

"Right," agreed Camilia. "And I did. Want him, that is. He was incredibly sexy. Disconcertingly so. And I didn't know what to say to him. I felt hypnotized by his gaze. My chest was heaving, my body was responding, and I just couldn't stop looking into those eyes. It took everything in me to wrench my eyes...my mind...away from him. When I did, finally, he asked me what I was fighting for. He wanted to know what was so wrong with wanting him, what would be so bad about giving myself to him. I thought I might faint, or maybe throw up, I don't know, but I had to look at him again. Those eyes. I just fell into those eyes. I thought I'd drown in them. And then I was floating, my mind was floating, and I was standing. I was walking over to him, around Albus' desk, and I was starting to unbutton my shirt, and he said, he said, 'That's right, Camilia. Come to me.' And I did, but as I got closer I thought, this isn't right! I don't want to do this! That boy is the devil! And I fought and fought, and he was so powerful, but I kept fighting, and then I had stopped. I wasn't walking toward him anymore, and I was buttoning my shirt again, I hadn't even realized it, and...and..."

Camilia paused a long moment. "And then it was over, and I was running to the door, and it slammed before I could get out. I just wanted to get out! I wanted to run down Albus' stairs and past that gargoyle and down the hall and I wanted to keep running until I was out of the castle and I didn't want to stop until I reached the ocean, Harry. I just wanted to run from that voice, those...those eyes. But the door was shut. I tried to open it, to unlock it, to yank it from its hinges, but it wouldn't budge. And then I felt a hand on my shoulder, and it turned me around, and I was face to face with him once more. His hand, it caressed me. He was so sexy, his touch was so...and I could feel I was losing touch with myself again, losing control. He leaned in, and I thought he would kiss me, but he passed my lips and whispered to me, told me to just let go, to give in, to enjoy what I was feeling. He promised me power, immense power, and pleasure, both beyond my wildest dreams. And he started to unbutton my shirt for me, but I stopped him. It took everything in me, but I stopped him, and then I was staring at the end of his wand, and my mind was floating again, and I couldn't help myself...I looked up at the ceiling, and he kissed my neck. It was almost as though...almost as though I was waiting for him to bite it, or for him to strangle me, something, but I didn't care. I just didn't care.

"But I knew, deep down, that I did care, that this wasn't right, that I had to do something - anything - to stop him. I spun toward the door again, and it was still locked tight, but I had my mind back; that was what was important. I turned back to face him, determined to do whatever I had to do to get him to let me go, and right when I did, he began to change. He wasn't that boy anymore, he aged, he was old, his hair grew out and turned gray, almost white, and he sprouted a long beard, and his clothes changed, his posture changed, his voice changed, even his eyes changed. It was Albus. He had his eyes back, those big blue puppy dog eyes, and he looked so sad...so scared. And then he started to cry, Harry. He just, he wept. And I started to cry too, and I knew, I knew that he'd been showing me what I'd have to face. The boy...that was Voldemort. That was what he was, who he was, at our age. I'd never felt such power, such evil, but I'd never seen such beauty or felt such longing. Albus showed me how alluring the devil could be, Harry. It was like...like a case study, where you face danger but you're never really in danger, you know? But I think...I think Albus was in danger. I think his tears were for him, how he had to do it, and what he found in himself once he'd started." Harry looked more horrified than she'd ever seen him, but at the suggestion that Dumbledore had been in danger himself, Harry's look of horror turned to one of loathing and fury.

"You don't understand!" protested Camilia, worried at what he might think of her. "It's not...it's not like that," she explained. "Look. Once...once when I was taking self-defense classes, this friend of mine, Derrick, I asked him to help me practice outside of class so I could be ready for this big attack scenario they did at the end. He agreed to attack me. And not just mess around and kinda pin me and then let me go, nothing like that. Like, seriously attack me. I told him to force himself not to worry if I got hurt, and I told him that I am far more afraid of rape than death, so to try and make me think there was danger involved, you know? Pull on my clothes and stuff...try to convince me I had to get away or suffer the consequences. He didn't like the idea, but he agreed, for my sake. So, we were alone because he didn't want anyone to be there when he was acting like a monster, right, and it was just in my home's rec room...I reserved some time just for this practice. It's not a big room, but there were floor mats and everything, so we could just fight it out and not, like, run into furniture, so...we started. I didn't even know he was gonna start...we were just talking, and he was, like, getting kinda close to me, and then he reached out for my hair...I was weirded out, but I let him because, I don't know, it was Derrick. So then he starts acting all weird, and making these dirty cracks, and I thought, this is it. I started backing up, right, and he kept coming toward me, so I kinda pushed him away, and the next thing I know, he's got his arms around me and I can't do anything, and then I'm falling to the floor, and my head hit the mat, and I was dazed, and then...I shook it off, but he was so strong, and my shirt...it just tore, but he kept coming at me, and he had this look in his eyes, this look, like I'd never seen on a man before - it was terrifying - and I totally freaked out on him and beat the hell out of him, but it took me like twenty minutes just to get away! By the time we were done, he was all cut up and I was all bruised and my clothes were, like, shredded, and he just sat there on the floor in the middle of the mats and started to weep. I didn't know what to do, I just sat next to him with my hand on his knee, and finally, when he stopped, he wiped his face and he looked at me, and it was just Derrick again, his eyes were normal, but he looked at me and made me swear never to ask him to practice with me again. And I never did.

"That practice, it made him become something, or at least, made him see something, something in himself he didn't think was there before that practice. And it scared him, not because he couldn't control it, but just because it was there in the first place, and he'd never thought that it could be."

Harry nodded, finally understanding what Camilia was trying to say about Dumbledore.

"Albus learned something about himself tonight, or last night, or whatever. He learned that he has a dark side, too, even though he never shows it and probably didn't even know it was there. But he had to think Voldemort's thoughts, say his words; basically just be him. I think he was hoping he'd never find out he had any of that in him, even if it was preparing me to face Voldemort."

The two sat in silence for an indeterminate amount of time, and then Camilia poured Harry a cup of coffee, and a second for herself, draining it again only seconds after having poured it.

"And then Albus told me all about Tom Riddle."

Harry felt as though Camilia had dropped a bomb. Her story about Dumbledore's behavior toward Camilia while he was still transformed into Tom Riddle by way of Polyjuice Potion had unsettled him, but this had stomped his stomach into his feet. "What about him?" he asked, only half wanting to know.

"That you and Tom are basically the same person, Harry, but it's because of the choices you've each made that you're so different. I suppose that doesn't make sense," she finished, noting the look on Harry's face.

"We're the same, but different. Marvelous. Just me and Voldemort. Care to enlighten me so I don't have to hypnotize you with my green eyes?" he added callously. He glanced up at her expression and immediately felt guilty because he knew his comment had been out of line. "I'm sorry, Camilia. It's...it's been..."

"It's been a rough night," Camilia finished. "But you're right. I need to explain. Bear with me here." And she launched into Albus' story.