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Could Be Worse by Green Eggs and Ham
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Could Be Worse

Green Eggs and Ham

Chapter 9

The Dursleys, the Potters, and, of course, the Blacks, walked into Sirius' house, and Harry immediately noticed by the looks on the Dursleys faces that they were incredibly impressed. He knew how they felt, too-it was an incredible house. And he knew how much work had gone into making it so beautiful.

Sirius and Estelle had worked for years and years to make the Black house look presentable, and it had definitely paid off. The house that had once been dark and dirty now looked absolutely amazing.

Moving paintings lined the walls, and the Dursleys gasped as each one greeted them. Vernon looked up to the high ceilings, and then glanced at Sirius, and it was clear by his face that his respect for him had just increased.

Harry turned to see Debbie talking rapidly to a portrait of a young princess, and he laughed as the princess talked just as rapidly back. Petunia looked as if she was unsure how to react about the situation, and kept her eyes resolutely on the floor.

Sirius cleared his throat. "Alright, let's move into the lounge, and I can contact the proper people so that we can sort this whole thing out."

Everyone followed Sirius into the next room, and the Dursleys watched in complete shock as Sirius stuck his head into the fire and began talking. Their horror only increased when, five minutes later, an old man with a long silver beard climbed out of the fireplace.

"Oh, Dumbledore, thank goodness!" Estelle gasped. "What's happening? We heard terrible things! We heard…. we heard that You-Know-Who is back!"

Dumbledore sighed. "It is true. Voldemort has indeed returned."

An awful silence followed these words as everyone tried to take this is. "Maybe we should talk about this in the other room… away from the children?" Lily said gently.

"No," Dumbledore said firmly. "They have as much of a right to hear this as you do. It will be good for them to hear the truth. But before we get to that, we must make sure that everyone is here."

"What do you mean?" James asked.

Dumbledore walked to the fireplace, and then turned back to face them. "Neville Longbottom needs to be here."

Harry sighed, and the others nodded. Of course Neville would have to be called. It would be his duty to kill Voldemort again. After all, he was the savior of the world.

In just a few minutes, Neville had joined the strange party, and the room was completely silent, everyone on the edges of their seats, waiting anxiously for Dumbledore to speak.

But before he could begin, Neville spat, "This is all just a ridiculous prank. Voldemort can't possibly be alive. I killed him years ago."

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "I assure you, this is not a joke…"

"But what about the prophecy?" Neville interrupted. "It said that I alone would have the power to kill him, and I did! All that work, and now I'm just going to have to do it all again?"

"Actually," Dumbledore said, smiling slightly, "no."

Neville simply stared at Dumbledore for a moment. "What do you mean, no?" he asked slowly. "There's no one else who can!"

"Well that's where you're wrong. You see, last time, you were the only one who could destroy him, but this time, it is someone else who has been given that power," Dumbledore said, and then, slowly, he turned and looked at Harry.

Harry looked blankly at him, and then, suddenly, he burst out laughing. "You're joking… Me?" When Dumbledore said nothing, Harry's laughter faded, and he glanced at Neville.

"Him?" Neville croaked, turning pale. "But…there's nothing special about him…I'm the only one… What about me? What about the prophecy?"

"Ah, well, this all fits in with the prophecy, I assure you. Just not that particular prophecy," Dumbledore said slowly, glancing between the two boys.

"What do you mean, not that particular prophecy?" Neville said scaldingly.

"Well, another prophecy was made a little over a year ago, of which you were not informed."

"Another prophecy? But that's ridiculous! And why was I not informed?" Neville shouted.

Dumbledore smiled slightly. "You were not informed because it did not refer to you," he said, glancing at Harry.

"There was a prophecy about me?" he said quietly. "But there's nothing special about me…It can't be about me."

"I assure you, it is," Dumbledore said, smiling gently.

Neville looked very put out by this. "Well what did it say, then?" he said indignantly.

The room stayed silent as Dumbledore took a deep breath, as if trying to get his thoughts together. "It said, `The Dark Lord will return from the past, and when he does, the boy that had destroyed him will be helpless to stop him. But another will rise up to rid the world of him forever. The boy was also born as the seventh month died, to parents who had thrice defied him. The boy who was not chosen.'" Dumbledore smiled and looked around at all the silent faces, looking quite calm.

Finally, Harry spoke quietly. "So… you think that's me, then?"

Dumbledore opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, Neville burst out, "Helpless to stop him? Helpless? Who was it that killed him the first time? And they don't think I can do it again?"

Dumbledore turned back to him, unsmiling. "The prophecy simply states that your role in fighting Lord Voldemort has ended."

Neville stood gaping, and Lily rose from her seat. "And my son has to go and fight him?" she asked, tears rising in her eyes.

"He does not have to, of course. The prophecy tells us he has the power, not that he must use it. That is, and will remain, his decision."

Everyone turned slowly to look at Harry, looking shocked and confused, or in Debbie's case, impressed.

"Ok…" he said slowly, "what do I have to do?"

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