Chapter 255 - The Great Four

"And then you asked me the terrible question, why Voldemort wanted to kill you when you were just a baby, Harry," said Dumbledore. "As you know, I lied. I lied to you, again and again, just to see you happy. Thinking that I alone can carry this burden, that I alone will be enough to prevent this. I always was arrogant enough to think so, even when I was a boy. Power and knowledge make you arrogant sometimes. Very arrogant indeed." Dumbledore again stared at the window for few seconds then continued, "Harry, "Voldemort tried to kill you when you were a child because of a prophecy made shortly before your birth. He knew the prophecy had been made, though he did not know its full contents. He set out to kill you when you were still a baby, believing he was fulfilling the terms of the prophecy. He discovered, to his cost, that he was mistaken, when the curse intended to kill you backfired. And so, since his return to his body, and particularly since your extraordinary escape from him last year, he has been determined to hear that prophecy in its entirety. This is the weapon he has been seeking so assiduously since his return: the knowledge of how to destroy you."

"I know that," said Harry. "Chris told me and the Prophecy — I smashed it."

"I guessed that much," Dumbledore mumbled. "The thing that smashed was merely the record of the prophecy kept by the Department of Mysteries, I think you know that too."

Before Harry could answer Dumbledore got to his feet and walked past them to the black cabinet that stood beside Fawkes's perch. He bent down, slid back a catch, and took from inside it the Pensieve. Dumbledore walked back to the desk, placed the Pensieve upon it, and raised his wand to his own temple. From it, he withdrew silvery, gossamer-fine strands of thought clinging to the wand, and deposited them in the basin. He sat back down behind his desk and watched his thoughts swirl and drift inside the Pensieve for a moment. Then, with a sigh, he raised his wand and prodded the silvery substance with its tip.

A figure rose out of it, draped in shawls, her eyes magnified to enormous size behind her glasses, and she revolved slowly, her feet in the basin. But when Sybill Trelawney spoke, it was not in her usual ethereal, mystic voice, but in a harsh, hoarse tone.

"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 Chris made a sound. Even Fawkes had fallen silent.

"Neither can live while the other survives," Chris said very quietly, for Dumbledore, still staring at the Pensieve, seemed completely lost in thought. "Is that means —"

"One of us has got to kill the other one . . . in the end?" Harry's eyes were wide.

"Yes," said Dumbledore.

Then Dumbledore took a deep breath.

"The odd thing is," he said softly, "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, was you. The other was Neville Longbottom."

"Wow," murmured Chris. "But Voldemort didn't mark him as equal, he chose Harry."

"Yes, he chose the boy he thought most likely to be a danger to him," said Dumbledore. "And notice this. 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."

"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 —"

"Lucky you," Chris gave a bitter smile as her heart tightened by Harry's words.

"There is a room in the Department of Mysteries," said 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 forces of nature. It is also, perhaps, the most mysterious of the many subjects for study that reside 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 the Tonks family tonight. That power saved you from possession by Voldemort, because he could not bear to reside in a body so full of the force he detests. The power of love." Dumbledore looked at Chris. "Just like destroying something doesn't mean you are strong like that killing doesn't mean you are evil. You possess a lot more power than that Christina."

"And don't you think I misused them?" said Chris and was surprised how sarcastic her question sounded.

"No, I don't," said Dumbledore firmly. "You like Harry suffered a lot. I wouldn't have considered you as evil even if you have done the killing, consciously."

The word 'consciously' made Chris jump. Dumbledore knew. She was wrong. Something weird was going on with her.

"I —"

"Yes, you were right from the beginning, Christina, I knew more about your situation, more than I led you to believe," sighed Dumbledore. "All headmasters of Hogwarts are aware of your situation. Malgino was never forgotten. Every Headmaster of Hogwarts had to inform the story about Malgino to the next new Headmaster. Because it was significant. The founders made sure Hogwarts was protected from him and it's every headmaster's duty to protect Hogwarts from outside people who want to destroy this place."

"I heard the story of Malgino from Helena," said Chris as Dumbledore paused.

Dumbledore nodded.

"The Grey Lady was kind enough to inform me that," he said. "But what she didn't know — what I know is after Malgino vanished, Helga Hufflepuff suspected that Malgino was still alive and was planning to return to power. No one knows what happened after that but a few were positive that Helga Hufflepuff had forged a plan to save Hogwarts for centuries and so after her death."

"Did she really?"

"Well, as I said no one knows," said Dumbledore. "But from there comes a legend. The legend of the protector of Hogwarts." Dumbledore looked at behind Chris. "Nicholas, will you be kind enough —"

"Of course, Headmaster," said someone and Chris jumped. 

Chris saw a very old looking wizard was sitting in a throne and was peering down at Chris. Just know Chris noticed that all of the Headmaster and Headmistress in Dumbledore's office were awake and were listening to the conversation very intently.

The old wizard, whom Dumbledore just called Nicholas, cleared his throat dramatically then began, "I am the oldest Headmaster here, only after two generations of Headmistresses next to the founders. I had heard the legend from Diania Gryffindor herself, the youngest daughter of great Godric Gryffindor." 

"Nicholas, the legend," reminded a stern-looking witch from another portrait.

"Oh yes, the legend," said Nicholas. "So the legend says, one day when the old enemy will strike the walls of Hogwarts again. . . The protector of Hogwarts will be born from where no one can imagine. . . The protector will be an exception and will possess things unheard of. . . The Great Four will gift the Protector with their most precious things. . . Their ability, knowledge and the keys but only if the protector can prove their quality. . . The Protector will be chosen by all four. . . The symbol of their Unity and Connection. . ."

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To be continued. . .