Harry Potter and the Missing Prophecy

Chapter Four

There were only two weeks left until the new term at Hogwarts started. For once, Harry couldn't say he was looking forward to it.

Since his birthday, he had spent most of the time on his own. He would go for long walks whilst Ron and Hermione stayed at her house, playing Wizard's Chess, or doing some of the summer homework assignments. Harry realised that they probably spent most of the time talking about him, and normally he would have been really rather pissed off about it, but lately, he just couldn't be bothered. It didn't seem important.

Sometimes, Ron and Hermione acted really awkwardly around him, sharing furtive glances and studiously avoiding any serious conversation around him. They kept on dropping hints that they wanted Harry to talk to them about the events that ended the last term, but it was obvious that they were looking for Harry to start the conversation ball rolling. However, Harry wasn't giving it to them.

Ron and Hermione tried to hide their frustration at seeing their friend withdraw into himself again, having been almost sociable before his birthday. At one point, Harry opened his mouth to say something, and Ron and Hermione held their breath, but Mrs Granger had then walked in and Harry had decided he needed to go for another walk on his own.

Of course, Ron and Hermione thought Harry's introvertness was all about Sirius, but it was only part of the problem. Harry was still thinking of the Prophecy and the how to tell his best friends.

On one of the hottest days of the hottest summer on record, Harry, Ron and Hermione took advantage of the temporary Floo-networked fireplace at her house to travel to Diagon Alley, their newly distributed book lists tucked away in their pockets. It was too hot for robes today.

Arriving in The Leaky Cauldron, Harry felt a mixture of relief at having the familiarity of the wizarding world around him, but dread soon pervaded his senses. The short walk through the pub told him that he was, once again, the centre of attention. People weren't approaching him as they had back in his first year, but Harry caught them looking at him, then quickly looking away when they realised he'd seen them. They'd then start whispering to their companions. Some would smile in a reassuring, apologetic way. For, now, they all knew the truth: You-Know-Who was back. And this time, they actually believed it. It had Ministry of Magic backing and everything.

Hermione grabbed Harry's arm and guided him out of the pub into the bright sunshine of the back alley. She tapped the bricks with her wand and soon, Diagon Alley was presenting itself in all its glory.

"First stop - ice cream!" Ron grinned.

"No, later Ron. We've got too much to do first! I need new robes and this book list is shocking!"

"No, Hermy, now!" Much to Hermione and Harry's irritation, Ron had taken on Grawp's nickname for her.

Hermione ground her teeth and let Ron drag her to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, where they sat and had ice cream and pumpkin juice, watching all the witches and wizards roam past. They saw their friends Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, who joined them for a short while, before heading off to see Fred and George in Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. The tense and conversation-less gathering had proved too much for them.

After a few more minutes, Hermione stood up, picked up her bag and said: "Right, well, I'm off to Madam Malkin's. Shall I see you in the twins' shop a bit later?"

"Sure," Ron replied. "You coming, mate?" Ron stood up as Hermione left.

"Ahh, I think I'll just have a bit of a wander, actually. I'll see you in a bit, yea?" Harry said, feeling guilty at the look Ron gave him. It made him realise that he had to tell Ron and Hermione the truth - and soon. Time was running out and there was only so much moping he figured they could take.

As Ron headed up Diagon Alley, Harry watched him for a minute, before turning to walk in the other direction. He briefly paused in front of the shop display outside Quality Quidditch Supplies, but the thought of his lifetime ban depressed him somewhat, so he walked away.

Unfortunately, he hadn't yet been given permission to play Quidditch again, even though he figured he should, now that that Umbridge woman was discredited. Harry did not wish to face Albus Dumbledore to ask him if he could be re-instated to the Gryffindor team, as he wasn't sure how he felt about the old man at the moment, but he thought that maybe he could ask Professor McGonagall when he got back to school.

Harry strolled casually along the street, stopping outside various shops and peering in through the windows, looking, but not really seeing anything that was on display. Everywhere he went, people were talking about the latest rumour to do with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. And the looks still followed him.

Harry saw Cho Chang and Roger Black, hand in hand, wandering into Flourish & Blott's, and realised that he hadn't thought about her at all since that time at the end of the last term on the Hogwarts Express.

But before his thoughts got too carried away on his non-starter of a relationship with Cho, Harry saw something that made him frown. He could have sworn that through the crowd he saw a flash of bleach-blond hair enter the cobbled archway just ahead of him that led to Knockturn Alley. Curious, Harry approached the archway and peered down the stairs, side-stepping a veiled hag clutching a box that was emitting strange hisses.

Just as he was about to go down the stairs, someone stepped right in front of him.

"And just where d'ya thing you're going, Laddie?" Mad-Eye Moody growled.

"Nowhere, I just thought I saw...." Harry protested. Standing next to Moody, he saw Remus Lupin. "Hey, what are you two doing here?" he asked suspiciously.

"Ah, now," Moody huffed. "You don't seriously think the Order would let you go anywhere on your own now, do you? We still watch you, you know. Every minute."

Remus said, a little more gently, "Voldemort's still out there and he'll still be after you, so we have to make sure you aren't looking for trouble now, don't we?"

Harry scowled.

"Where are you headed to, boy?" Moody barked.

"Dunno, just wandering around, trying not to talk to anyone actually, so if you don't mind..."

Harry made to walk off, but Moody struck Harry's leg lightly with his walking stick and said "I do mind, actually. In fact, I fancy a drink. You're gonna come to the Leaky Cauldron with us". It wasn't a question.

Harry realised that Moody wasn't going to give up without a fight, and he really wasn't in the mood to make a scene. Besides, he'd walked up and down Diagon Alley too many times already.

Moody and Remus took him to the pub in silence and found a quiet table near the back of the pub, behind a pillar and out of view.

"Stay here. I'll get us a drink."

As Moody limped away, Harry ducked down in his chair. He resolutely refused to look Remus in the eye, aware that he was watching him carefully. Instead, Harry looked around the bar, which was almost empty as most people were out enjoying their drinks in the sunshine. There were only two elderly wizards sitting at the bar, deep in conversation. They were talking about the new war against Voldemort.

"Talkative, aren't ya?" Moody interrupted, setting two glasses of firewhiskey on the table and passing Remus a butterbeer.

"Er, firewhiskey?" Harry remarked.

"Yea. Figured you may as well be introduced to it. Tom weren't about to mess with an Auror about a slightly underaged wizard. Had to check it. For poisons, like."

"Probably not the wisest idea to give a sixteen year-old a firewhiskey, eh?" Remus chided, but he was grinning, and nodded to Harry.

Harry took a glass and sniffed the clear orange liquid inside. He swirled it about and it made it turn the colour of fire, red and yellow flames licking the sides of the tumbler.

"That's it. Now just gulp it in one." Moody watched Harry carefully.

Harry blanched, then lifted the glass to his lips and threw the flaming liquid to the back of his throat. The second it hit, it ran down his gullet and Harry felt its warmth soothe his stomach. It tasted very sour, but he found it was rather satisfying. For a moment, Harry forgot all his troubles. Everything went kind of blank. Then just as the warming feeling in his stomach left and returned to normal, Harry began to think about other things again.

"What do you think?" Moody growled.

"Yea, it's nice...." Harry's voice trailed off as he thought about the moment of contentment the firewhiskey gave him, when the world seemed right again, and full of promise.

They passed a few minutes in silence, in which time Moody got up again and brought back two mugs of frothy butterbeer for himself and Harry. Harry thanked him and took a sip. It wasn't nearly as satisfying as the firewhiskey.

Moody suddenly spoke, startling Harry into spilling a little of his drink. "So, what do you want to know?"

"Sorry?" Harry asked, a little confused.

"We were told we had to answer any questions you might have."

"Oh, yeah. Um, I dunno." All the questions Harry had had before now seemed to disappear for a moment. "Do you know why Dumbledore trusts Snape?"

Moody shook his head. "That, I'm afraid, is something we'd all like to know. Can't understand it myself, the guy's just plain weird. Don't trust him as far as I can throw him. Next question."

"Um. I don't really understand about this Prophecy....."

Remus interrupted. "Before you say anything, the rest of the Order know that there is a link between you and Voldemort, but no one knows the exact wording of the Prophecy, apart from yourself and Dumbledore, and anyone else you might have told." Harry shook his head.

"Good, it's safer that way." Moody replied.

This made Harry realise that neither Remus nor Moody could answer any of his questions about the Prophecy. He also recognised that it wasn't safe to tell them the Prophecy just on the off-chance they knew the answer to some of his questions. It was just too risky.

Harry wanted to know what power he had that could possibly equal Voldemort's. And as the Prophecy hadn't made it clear, did either Harry have to kill Voldemort in order to survive or vice versa, or did he have to die in order for Voldemort to die? It was too confusing. But it all seemed to come down to the fact that Harry had to face down Voldemort on his own, where one or both of them must die. Only a one in three chance of being allowed to survive, with that one chance a rather dubious one. They weren't good odds.

Harry thought for a moment. There was another question that Moody or Remus might be able to answer, though. Should he ask the question that was on the tip of his tongue? Could they answer it?

"Um, it's about....about, er...." Harry took a deep breath. "It's about Sirius."

Moody looked resigned. "Yea, thought you might want to know more about that."

"That room, in the Ministry....." Harry started.

"The Death Chamber?"

"Yea. What is it? I mean, it looked like a place where people would be put to death in public. Having to go through that archway." Harry spoke this quickly, wanting this conversation to end as much as he had wanted to start it.

Remus frowned. "It used to be, yes. It hasn't been used for a few decades now, since Capital Punishment was abolished by the Ministry of Magic. We all knew it existed, but never where it was. Most people suspected it was in the Department of Mysteries, anyway. After all, where else is so secure, and it would be a disaster if it was in a public place."

"Why's it still there then? If it's not being used anymore, I mean?" Harry asked.

"We were told they had got rid of it," Moody continued. "But I guess the curiosity value got the better of the workers in the Department of Mysteries. Who knows? Maybe they'll use it on Voldemort, but I doubt it, not with the uncertainty an' all."

"What do you mean, uncertainty?" Harry asked, puzzled. "Don't they know what's on the other side?"

Remus frowned. "Actually, no, they don't. What we do know is that it was found in the ruins of a Roman temple in Pompeii, which had been destroyed by Mount Vesuvius in AD79. Muggle studies have shown that the Romans used to consider suicide as an acceptable form of death in extreme situations. We assume the magical community there at the time used the archway for this purpose, as the ruined temple still had protection spells all around it, and there was not a magical soul found in the city. The volcanic ash and rock over the area was found to prevent anyone from Dissapparating out of there. The myth says that the wizard who found the archway centuries later when Pompeii was discovered, put a binding spell on someone to see what happened. He sent them through, but the spell was broken upon entry, and the team waited for two weeks before finding a faint inscription on the top of the archway, which is why you may not have noticed it. The inscription reads 'qui transeat, peribit', which means, 'He who passes through, passes over'. So now, it has been assumed that death is one's reward for their hastiness in entering that archway."

"But no one actually knows if it is death? 'Passing over' doesn't necessarily mean death, does it? That would explain it! I mean, me and Luna heard voices coming from the other side; that could be them!" Harry became very excited. "Maybe Sirius isn't dead at all?! They might just be trapped!"

"I'm sorry, Harry," Remus said sadly. "No one has ever returned, in all the centuries it's been there."

"But..."

"No one. Ever," Moody interrupted, giving Harry a hard, penetrating glance. Even his magical eye was fixed firmly on Harry.

Remus looked down and sighed. "The wizard who discovered the arch brought it back to London, to keep safe from the muggle and wizarding worlds. For a long time, wizards and witches studied it, doing everything they could to find out what was on the other side. Eventually they had to give up, but there are some theories. Some believe that it is a direct door to heaven. As in, the person who goes through may not necessarily die, but their spirit skips death and goes straight to heaven. On the other hand, of course, there is the possibility that it goes straight to hell. Passing through that veil may be painful, or it may be like passing through fog. No one knows. Because no one has ever returned."

"But those voices..." Harry insisted desperately.

"I don't know what you heard. They may be a bit like ghosts. You know, they're here, but they're not. Just.... leftovers."

Harry simply nodded. His elation at the possibility of seeing his godfather again was painfully momentary. He knew he had to face facts.

I could do with another firewhiskey....

"Harry, we all know what you're going through. Most of us in the Order lost friends, family and loved ones in the last war against Voldemort. It seems Sirius just happened to be one of the first victims of the new war." Harry made to interrupt Remus again, but Remus cut him off. "You have been unluckier than most, son, but I must stress that you are not alone. I may not know what the Prophecy said precisely, but I know that you have within you something that no one understands, but is powerful nonetheless. We will fight, and given your past feats, I do believe that you are one asset we must protect and we will fight alongside you. Only you will understand what destiny is yours, when the time is right".

Harry nodded again and let out a long breath. This was bigger than even he had originally thought, and was almost beyond comprehension. Harry knew, from when Remus had been his professor, that he was an astute and understanding man, but it really hit home for him then, that this man had been his father and Sirius's friend, and it made Harry feel a little better. A little less alone. However, a niggling thought at the back of his head kept chanting Prongs and Padfoot have gone, only Moony to go.....

"I don't suppose there's any chance..."

"For another firewhiskey?" Moody anticipated.

"Yea. I'd kind of like things to be OK, even if it's just for a minute. It's just so much to deal with."

"OK, Harry, just this once. But I must warn you. Firewhiskey is no way to drown your sorrows," Remus warned.

"I know," Harry whispered to himself, as Moody walked away to the bar.

As Harry walked in silence beside Mad-Eye Moody and Remus Lupin, through Diagon Alley to meet his friends at Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, the same million thoughts ran through his head, but he now had a new problem that he hadn't thought of before.

If he told Ron and Hermione what the Prophecy said, was he putting them in danger as well? He didn't want them to risk their lives for him. But then, they were in danger by just being his friends anyway. They had never blanched in the face of danger. They faced it head-on, just as he did, taking his responsibility on as their own. Because they wanted to. Because they were his best friends, and they were in on everything together.

Harry was confused. He didn't know what to do anymore. He needed to share his frustration and voice his concerns, but now that Sirius was gone, his friends were the closest he had to family. He now felt he needed to tell them. He now wanted to tell them so badly, he thought of rushing up to them as soon as he saw them, to drag them away, back to Hermione's.

Harry tried reasoning to himself. They would want to know. They had always been in danger being his friend; a little more danger wouldn't bother them. They would want to be there for him. Like they always had before.

Hermione had suggested he enjoyed the risk-taking and had a hero-complex, and in hindsight, maybe he did - then. But it was different now. Throughout all his five years in the wizarding world, he may have been hasty in his judgement, but he just felt it his responsibility to do the things he had done. And now he knew it was a given. It really was his responsibility.

Harry furrowed his brows. Not for the first time, he wished that Neville had been the one Voldemort had chosen fifteen years ago.

Harry sighed and tried to banish that thought from his head. It wouldn't do to contemplate 'if onlys'. What was done, was done. And he wouldn't wish this upon anyone, especially one of his friends.

Harry made up his mind. He would tell Ron and Hermione, when he knew they weren't likely to be watched by the Order. On the Hogwarts Express? If the Order didn't know that all three knew what the Prophecy contained, then they'd probably be all right. As long as they didn't talk about it in public or where they might be overheard, then who would know what he'd told them?