Chapter 688: The Hidden Portion of the Prophecy
Chapter 688: The Hidden Portion of the Prophecy
"I shouldn't have agreed to let Fudge teach Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts!"
The next morning, everyone in the Hospital Wing was awake. Tonks lay in her bed, looking at the tight bandages covering her body, feeling utterly regretful.
"I knew this day would come..." She sighed, "Just look at Alastor; it's been a year since he left, and he's still not completely free from the curse."
"Don't talk nonsense," Moody, lying next to her, said sternly. "As an Auror, getting injured is an inevitable part of the job. It has nothing to do with the curse of teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts."
"Then why is Kingsley unharmed...?" Tonks pouted.
"Because he's strong enough," Moody said. "Whether it's Kingsley, Remus, or Sirius, they were all at their peak. They had the energy and reflexes to deal with Death Eaters."
"And so do you." Moody's tone suddenly turned serious. "You're too lackadaisical and not utilizing your advantages. As a natural Metamorphmagus, engaging in direct confrontations with enemies is foolish... Why don't you transform yourself to look like a Death Eater?"
"And where is your vigilance? I remember when you first joined the Aurors; I've reminded you countless times to always be ready to cast the Ironclad Charm in battle."
The Hospital Wing seemed to have turned into a classroom as Moody bluntly pointed out all of Tonks' past mistakes, causing her cheeks to redden.
"Death Eaters wear black hoods and masks..." She argued, "Our clothes are different, so even if I change my appearance, it won't work."
"Oh, is that so?" Moody said coldly. "It seems I'll have to pay a visit to Professor McGonagall. She must not have taught you how to transfigure your clothes in class."
"I can testify that this was taught in third year," Kyle, who was visiting them, added with a smile.
To make his point, he tapped his wand lightly on his clothes, and the original school robes instantly transformed into pure black Death Eater-style cloaks.
"Tsk, tsk." Moody said calmly, "It seems I've wronged Professor McGonagall..."
At this point, Tonks had turned her head away, pretending to sleep, ignoring their conversation.
She had just been thinking of thanking Kyle for saving her life, but now it seemed they were even.
For a moment, everyone in the room laughed.
Lupin, who had just entered, heard the laughter and asked curiously, "Did I miss something?"
"It's like this," Ron spoke up. "Just now, Professor Tonks..."
"It's important to note that she's an assistant," Tonks interrupted, opening her eyes and speaking loudly, "And if you dare mention what just happened, I'll assign you ten times the amount of Defense Against the Dark Arts homework. That's something I can still do."
Ron immediately closed his mouth.
"And you too..." She glared at Kyle and Hermione.
Kyle shrugged nonchalantly, wisely choosing not to provoke her further.
However, Lupin didn't seem particularly interested in knowing the answer. He placed the sweets he had bought from Hogsmeade on the table and said with a smile, "It seems you're all recovering well. I was just discussing with Sirius whether we should send you to St. Mungo's."
"No, please!" Tonks shook her head repeatedly, "I hate the smell of St. Mungo's. It's better here; at least, there's no mix of different potion scents."
"Alright then," Lupin said, "as long as Madam Pomfrey has no objections."
"I don't want to go to St. Mungo's either," Ron said.
"What I say doesn't count." Lupin shook his head, "Where you go is up to Arthur and Molly, and they're on their way here, should be arriving soon."
"Oh, I'm doomed!" Ron cried, covering his head with the blanket.
"Hermione..." Lupin continued, "Have you really decided not to tell your parents?"
"No, please!" Hermione quickly replied, "They're Muggles and don't understand the wizarding world. Even if they knew, it would only cause them unnecessary worry. Besides, I'm almost recovered, so there's really no need to tell them."
"Well... alright then."
After a moment of hesitation, Lupin nodded.
Indeed, Hermione had the lightest injuries among them. She was supposed to be discharged today, but Madam Pomfrey insisted she stay a few more days.
"I must thank you, Kyle, for saving us." At this moment, Moody spoke up, "If you hadn't arrived in time, none of us would have escaped."
"It's nothing," Kyle shook his head.
"You really shouldn't have become a Minister's assistant." Moody said with a hint of regret, "The Auror Office would have been the best choice for you; you would have shone there."
To be honest, Kyle didn't want to be either a Minister's assistant or an Auror, but what choice did he have?
So, without waiting for Moody to continue, Kyle changed the subject and asked Lupin, "What about Harry? Didn't he come back with you?"
"No," Lupin said as he poured a cup of tea for Tonks, "He said he had something to discuss with the Headmaster and left before you arrived. He didn't come to Hogsmeade with me."
"I see."
Kyle wasn't surprised that Harry went to see Dumbledore. What did surprise him was that Madam Pomfrey had let Harry leave, but it could have been Dumbledore's decision.
After all, Harry had been subjected to a version of the Imperius Curse by Voldemort, who had invaded his mind. If it weren't for the Headmaster's intervention, Madam Pomfrey would never have allowed Harry to leave.
Soon, Mrs. Weasley's voice could be heard from outside.
"You're his older brother, why would you let him go to such a dangerous place?"
Then came the voices of Fred and George.
"Yeah, we can't just fly out and bring him back..."
"Or break his legs in advance!"
...
Kyle turned to look at Ron, who had started to shiver and was curled up helplessly on the bed.
"You'd better just admit your mistake," Kyle advised kindly. "Don't exaggerate your help, don't make any excuses, just apologize, and keep the rest to a minimum."
"Huh? Why?" Ron was taken aback, as he had just been thinking about exaggerating his role.
After all, they had managed to stop Voldemort's plot this time, wasn't this what the Order of the Phoenix was doing?
"Because Mr. Weasley has probably already said what you're thinking, and it won't make much difference if you say it again."
"Bang!"
At that moment, the room door was pushed open from the outside.
Mrs. Weasley rushed in, looking as if she had just been crying. As soon as she entered, she rushed to Ron's side and hugged him.
"Thank goodness you're okay," Mrs. Weasley checked on Ron's condition until she was sure he was doing well. Then, suddenly, she straightened her face and said, "How dare you confront the Death Eaters... Yesterday, the magical fountain showed that both you and your father were in danger. I almost fainted."
Ron was about to say that he wasn't alone, but remembering Kyle's words, he quickly swallowed his words and said instead, "I'm sorry, Mom, I won't do it again."
Mrs. Weasley almost started crying again. She hugged Ron once more.
Behind her, Mr. Weasley blinked in surprise but also breathed a sigh of relief.
"Oh, and you..." After letting go of Ron, Mrs. Weasley turned and gave Kyle a hug.
"You saved both of them, thank you."
"It's nothing..." Kyle shook his head, "But Mrs. Weasley, I've heard these thanks countless times since yesterday. Why can't you say it all at once?"
"That's because we met you at different times," Mrs. Weasley said, hugging Kyle again and then looking around.
"Where's Harry? Didn't Arthur say he was injured too?"
"Harry should be in the Headmaster's Office," Lupin said, "He seems to have a question for Dumbledore."
...
Meanwhile, in the Headmaster's Office,
Harry moved his gaze away from the blue figure in the Pensieve.
The room was silent, including the portraits on the walls; no one spoke a word.
After some time, Harry spoke softly, "Professor Dumbledore... Is this the entire prophecy?"
"Yes," Dumbledore nodded.
"I don't understand... What does it mean?" Harry thought again of the words the blue figure had said.
"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... The Dark Lord will mark him as his equal..."
"It means," Dumbledore said, "the only one who could possibly defeat Voldemort was born in late July, almost sixteen years ago..."
Harry felt something pressing down on him, making it difficult to breathe.
"Is that person... me?"
A ridiculous thought suddenly popped into his mind, but he quickly shook his head. How could he possibly be Voldemort's equal?
Dumbledore took a deep breath.
"If we only consider the first part, it might not be you," Dumbledore said softly. "There were two born in late July that year: you and Neville Longbottom. Coincidentally, both of your families are part of the Order of the Phoenix, and both have escaped death at Voldemort's hands three times."
"But, if Neville also fits, why does the prophecy mention my name?" Harry asked, frowning.
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"This is the most crucial part of the prophecy," Dumbledore said slowly. "Do you remember the second part? Voldemort himself will mark him as his equal. In other words, he chose you, not Neville."
"But Professor, is there a mistake somewhere?" Harry still couldn't understand. "I'm not Voldemort's match. He can easily... control me."
"Perhaps it's not that easy," Dumbledore waved his wand, and the figure in the Pensieve transformed back into a silver light.
"You have a power that Voldemort doesn't possess, and it was this power that drove you to the Department of Mysteries last night to save Sirius.
"I believe that even if I hadn't intervened, you could have freed yourself from Voldemort's control with your own heart."
Harry found it hard to believe that he could free himself from Voldemort's control.
But as he thought about this, he quickly remembered something else.
"Wait, Professor," Harry said, "I recall that Kyle was also born at the end of July, right? Could he be the person mentioned in the prophecy... After all, the prophecy only specified the birth month."
Dumbledore hesitated for a moment and then shook his head. "I once thought the same, but I'm afraid it's not the case."
"Why?"
Dumbledore looked at Harry, or more precisely, at the scar on his forehead.
"Voldemort will mark his enemy himself. This is the core of the prophecy. When he gave you that scar, he had already chosen his opponent."
"And more importantly, Neville and Kyle are both pure-blood wizards, while you and Voldemort are half-bloods... Oh, that's right, because your mother, Lily Evans, comes from a Muggle family, so strictly speaking, you're not truly pure-blood."
"I know that," Harry said, not wishing to be associated with the pure-blood ideology of some Slytherins.
"But what does that have to do with whether I'm a half-blood or not?"
"Because Voldemort is also a half-blood," Dumbledore explained. "Even though he has always believed that pure-blood is the true essence of a wizard, his father was indeed a Muggle. I believe you're aware of this."
"Perhaps it's because of our shared identity that he sees himself in you."
"Me and Voldemort, the same?" Harry felt a chill run down his spine, and his body went rigid at the thought.
"That's just his belief," Dumbledore said reassuringly. "We all know that you and Voldemort are completely different."
Impossible, this couldn't be true!
Harry didn't listen to Dumbledore's words; instead, he was frantically denying the claim in his mind and searching for more favorable evidence.
"Oh, right, the prophecy..." He suddenly remembered something and spoke aloud, "When the crystal orb shattered, we heard a sentence, but its content was completely different from what we just heard. You must have made a mistake."
"Oh?" For the first time, Dumbledore showed a look of surprise.
"What did you hear?"
Harry tried to recall, "It was something like, at the moment of deciding the outcome, a new... I can't remember the exact words."
"It was chaotic then, with screams everywhere. I didn't catch the rest of it, but you can ask Kyle and Mr. Weasley; they were nearby too."
Dumbledore remained silent, staring at the Pensieve as if deep in thought.
"Professor," Harry asked cautiously, "You must have made a mistake. We didn't hear that sentence in what we just heard."
"Harry, the strange part is that this sentence does exist," Dumbledore waved his wand again, and the previously disappeared figure reappeared in the Pensieve.
"The one with the power to defeat the Dark Lord approaches..."
As Harry was about to speak after hearing this, Dumbledore shook his head.
"Wait a moment, continue listening, and stay quiet."
Harry had no choice but to close his mouth and wait.
After a while, he saw the figure in the Pensieve open its mouth, but only a buzzing sound, like a bee, came out.
"What did she say?" Harry couldn't help but ask.
"I don't know," Dumbledore said. "Because this is what I heard. This part of the prophecy is hidden."
"Can prophecies be hidden?"
"Of course," Dumbledore walked to the window and muttered, "I was puzzled at first, but later I understood.
"This prophecy is like the Black Lake; I saw it in winter, so I could only see a part of it. As for what lies beneath the lake's surface, we'll have to wait until spring when the ice melts to find out."
"Is it about time?" Harry asked uncertainly.
"Yes," Dumbledore said, "Only when time reaches a certain point will this prophecy be considered complete.
"Are you sure you don't remember what was said next?"
Harry tried to recall again, "I'm sorry, Professor... It was really chaotic at the time."
"It's alright," Dumbledore shook his head, "Perhaps we were destined to not hear the complete prophecy."
The Headmaster's Office fell silent once more.
But unlike before, Harry noticed that the figures in the portraits were no longer pretending to sleep. Instead, they huddled together, whispering as if they were equally intrigued by this so-called prophecy.
After a long while, Harry heard noises from outside the Headmaster's Office, likely people heading to the Great Hall for lunch.
Upon realizing this, Harry suddenly felt hungry.
With many questions on his mind, he had skipped breakfast that morning and now felt dizzy and weak, his legs turning soft.
"Oh, has it been that long?" Dumbledore turned back, "If you're done here, you can go to the Great Hall for lunch. They're serving fried pork chops and egg custard pies today, which I quite enjoy. But don't eat too much; remember you have a match this afternoon."
"A match?"
"A Quidditch match," Dumbledore explained. "Did you forget? This afternoon is the final match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, and the outcome will determine which house wins the Quidditch Cup."
"Oh!" Harry exclaimed.
He remembered that this match was originally scheduled for early June but was postponed to after the exams for unknown reasons.
"Goodbye, Professor!" Harry immediately turned to leave, but just as he was about to exit, he suddenly stopped and turned back. "Professor, can Ron be released early? He's our Gryffindor goalkeeper."
"You'll have to ask Madam Pomfrey about that," Dumbledore said. "But I think it's unlikely she'll agree, so you'd better choose a new goalkeeper.
And since Ron has been tortured by the Cruciatus Curse, even if he's released, he probably won't be able to recover to his best state in a short time."
Before Dumbledore could finish his sentence, Harry had already rushed out of the Headmaster's Office.
At this moment, he was no longer concerned about the prophecy; he just hoped to find a new goalkeeper within the next two hours before the match.
(End of Chapter)
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