((If my "vaunted" observational skills are correct, this should be the first chapter that I finished after Portkey's outage, meaning it's the first chapter that is actually new to the site as I upload it. It ends on a bit of a cliffhanger...but, fortunately for you guys, I also finished the next chapter while waiting to see what happened here at Portkey, so you won't have to wait long to find out what happens next. Silver linings, eh?))
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I'm just borrowing it for a bit of nonsense.
No More Mysteries
by: MayorHaggar
Chapter 5: Meeting at Hogwarts, Part 1
"You really aren't gonna tell me why Hermione has to go with you?"
Harry looked away from his best mate uncomfortably, not answering him right away. Ron had been most curious ever since the owl from Dumbledore had arrived the night before, confirming the Headmaster's meeting with Harry and Hermione the following day. When the Weasleys wondered aloud why he was meeting with the two of them, Harry had explained that Dumbledore (through McGonagall) had asked to meet with him, and he'd insisted that Hermione come along as well. That was as much as he'd said, though. He could tell that Ron was feeling rather hurt at being left out, but Harry couldn't chance it. Not yet. The element of surprise would be perhaps the biggest thing he and Hermione would have going for them today, and he couldn't do anything to risk it. That didn't make him feel any less guilty, though.
"I already explained this to you, Ron," Hermione interjected. "Harry knew that I had some things I wanted to speak with Headmaster Dumbledore about, so he thought this would be a good opportunity for me to do so."
"Right," Ron said, rolling his eyes to show what he thought of that explanation. "That's why neither of you will tell me one ruddy thing about the meeting itself, and Harry can't even look at me when he tries to talk to me. The two of you are obviously up to something, but you don't trust me enough to tell me about it. I don't get it. I thought we were a team."
"Ron," Harry spoke up, stepping forward and locking gazes with his best friend, desperate to make him understand. "It's not that we don't trust you. We do. It's just that...well, Hermione and I have been planning this for a little while, and it's really important." Harry could see that Ron was still sceptical, so he continued on. "First thing after we get back, we'll tell you everything. I swear it on my magic."
Ron was silent for a moment, as he and Harry simply stared at each other. Finally, Ron nodded slowly. "Alright, fine," he agreed. "But I'll hold you to that. As soon as you get back, I want to know what's going on."
"You got it, Ron," Harry assured him. "When Hermione and I get back, the three of us will go straight up to your room, and we'll explain everything."
Ron nodded, and gave both of his friends one final, appraising look before he turned and walked out of the room, leaving Harry and Hermione alone.
"Ready to go, Harry?" Hermione immediately asked, determined not to give either Harry or herself any time to worry or start second-guessing themselves. If they were going to do this, they couldn't be hesitant or indecisive. They would need to be ready for anything if they wanted this meeting with the crafty headmaster to go well.
"I'm ready," Harry quietly confirmed. Hermione could see that her friend meant it, too. Even though they were about to confront arguably the most powerful and well-respected man in magical England, Harry didn't look the least bit nervous. He seemed...confident, determined. When Harry was focused like he was in that moment, Hermione believed he could accomplish anything. And she figured Professor Quirrell and the spirit inside Tom Riddle's diary would have had to agree-if they'd been in any condition to do so.
The two of them had thoroughly run through a list of problems that they wanted to confront the Headmaster with, and had discussed the different ways he might try and evade the questions, or the excuses he might offer. They knew it would not be easy to get through to him, as he had become very accustomed to having people follow him blindly, accepting his decisions without question. Getting him to admit the errors he had made, not to mention see that things needed to change, would be difficult. But they had to try. They had to do everything they could to reach a satisfactory conclusion. Because otherwise, both of them would be setting foot in Hogwarts for the very last time. And both teens believed that the war against Voldemort would be worse off for it.
Exhaling a deep breath, Hermione grabbed a handful of floo powder and prepared to depart for perhaps the most important conversation of her life up to that point.
--NMM--
Albus Dumbledore sat patiently at his desk, awaiting the arrival of Harry Potter, as well as one of his closest friends, the brilliant Hermione Granger. Albus had been surprised when Minerva informed him of Harry's request that Hermione be included in today's meeting, but he didn't see the harm in it. She already knew precisely what had happened in the Department of Mysteries, and Albus had no doubt that Harry would share the contents of the prophecy with her, if he had not done so already. She was Harry's most trusted confidant, and whatever Harry's reasons for requesting her presence, Albus did not want to risk upsetting him by turning him down. Harry would be upset enough by the end of this meeting. No reason to give him a head start.
Dumbledore looked up as the door to his quarters opened, and Minerva led both Harry and Hermione in. He smiled pleasantly, doing his best to appear cheerful despite his concern over how Harry was feeling towards him after the events of last term, not to mention how he might react to the news he was about to receive.
"Ah...Mr. Potter, Ms. Granger. Right on time. Please, have a seat," Dumbledore said kindly, indicating a pair of chairs right in front of them. Harry and Hermione did as he asked, while Dumbledore turned his attention to his fellow Hogwarts instructor. "Professor McGonagall, you may join us as well, so long as our two bright young students do not object. Do you?"
After sharing a brief glance, Harry and Hermione both shook their heads, so McGonagall took a seat as well. Dumbledore was pleased that they had agreed to his suggestion. He knew that Harry, and perhaps Hermione as well, would not be pleased with what he was about to tell them. But he hoped that the presence of their Head of House would serve as a calming influence, and soften Harry's reaction to some degree.
"Would anyone care for a lemon drop?" Dumbledore offered. All three shook their heads, so Dumbledore continued. "Very well. I must say, Harry, that I am a bit curious about your insistence that Ms. Granger join us today. Was there something urgent that you needed to speak with me about, Ms. Granger?"
"You could say that, Professor," Hermione agreed, "but it can wait for a few minutes. Please, go ahead and tell Harry why you asked him to come."
"As you wish," Dumbledore said, nodding, before looking back at Harry once again. "Harry, first of all, I want to say once again how sorry I am about what happened to poor Sirius. He was a good man, and he cared for you deeply. Now, he is gone, and to my great regret, I must acknowledge that the majority of the blame lies at my feet. I apologize, Harry. I failed you this past year, and I hope you can find it within yourself to forgive me."
"I hope so too," Harry said, with a bit of an edge to his voice. Hermione placed a calming hand on his arm, while McGonagall stared at her students, one eyebrow raised. For his part, Dumbledore was taken aback at Harry's response, though he effectively schooled his features and hid his surprise from everyone else.
"Yes, well, moving on," Dumbledore said pleasantly, as if nothing was amiss, "there was a particular reason that I asked you here today, Harry. Before we get to that, though, I would like to express the surprise and disappointment I felt upon hearing that you had chosen to decline the position of Quidditch captain. I think you would have made a most excellent captain for Gryffindor."
"I disagree, Professor," Harry said quietly. "If the situation was different, maybe I could've been a good captain. But we're in the middle of a war. I'm in the middle of a war, whether I want to be or not. I need to focus on preparing myself for that. I don't have the time to be a good quidditch captain."
"I'm sorry you feel that way, Harry," Dumbledore said sadly. "I think it is important to stop and enjoy the simple pleasures in life, regardless of whatever other pressures or responsibilities one may have to deal with. Nevertheless, I do find it curious that you decided to accept the prefect position once Mr. Weasley vacated it. Why did you choose to devote your time to that responsibility, rather than that of Quidditch captain?"
"I think being a prefect is a more important responsibility," Harry explained. "Prefects help the school run more smoothly, and when the professors are in a bind and need help in looking after the students, they turn to the prefects. And with Voldemort and his lackeys still out there, you might need all the help you can get."
"You may be right, Harry," Dumbledore began, his eyes twinkling, "but I can't help but wonder if perhaps the thought of spending time alone with Ms. Granger on patrol might have influenced your decision?"
To Dumbledore's amusement, Hermione blushed bright red and looked away, clearly embarrassed about what he had just implied. Harry didn't really react to Dumbledore's remark, however. Dumbledore wasn't sure whether Harry had missed the implication, or if he'd simply chosen to ignore it, but it was obvious that his attempt to lighten Harry's mood with a bit of humour had not had the desired effect. Giving it up as a failed effort, Dumbledore cleared his throat and changed the subject. "I'm sure you'll make a fine prefect, in any event. Now, I suppose we should move on to the purpose of this little chat of ours."
"Please do," Hermione agreed, her face and cheeks back to their normal hue.
"Harry, I asked you to meet with me today because I was hoping you could help me with something. I want to try and talk a retired professor into returning to Hogwarts for the upcoming term, and I believe that I will have better luck if you are with me, Harry," Dumbledore explained. He believed it, too. If Harry went with him, he was confident he would be successful. Convincing Harry to go along with it would be the hard part.
"Me? Why would this professor come back if I go with you when you talk to him?" Harry asked, sounding confused.
"Call it a hunch," Dumbledore said dismissively. He had a very specific reason for making this request of Harry, of course, but he didn't see the need to share it with him at this time. "His name is Horace Slughorn, and he was formerly the Head of Slytherin during Tom Riddle's time here. I believe that Riddle will attempt to recruit Horace into his band of Death Eaters, if he hasn't begun trying already. I'm hoping that returning to Hogwarts will keep Horace safe and out of Voldemort's clutches."
"I guess that makes sense," Harry agreed. "So, if you can talk him into coming back, I'm guessing he'll be this year's Defence teacher?"
"Actually, no. He'll be resuming his old position as Potions master."
"Potions? What about Professor Snape?" Hermione asked. Dumbledore could hear a sense of dread in her voice, and knew she had caught on. Harry wasn't there quite yet, but he'd figure it out soon enough. Deciding that there was no point in delaying the inevitable, Dumbledore explained.
"Professor Snape will be teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts," Dumbledore answered. From her seat nearest his, Professor McGonagall muttered under her breath, making no attempt to hide her disgust with this statement. As she had already voiced her displeasure over his choice, the headmaster had little trouble ignoring her reaction.
Ignoring Harry's, though, would prove impossible.
"SNAPE?! You're going to let that GIT teach the most important subject in the school?!" Harry shouted, outraged. This was exactly the reaction Dumbledore had feared. It seemed that Minerva's presence hadn't restrained Harry one bit. Still, he couldn't say he was surprised. He knew all about the animosity between Harry and Severus. He would just need to make Harry see that this would be the best thing for everyone.
"Professor Snape, Harry," Dumbledore corrected automatically. "And yes, he will be assuming the Defence post. I know that you and Professor Snape haven't always gotten along, but he truly is a very talented wizard," he said, trying to make Harry see the logic of his decision. It was true. Despite his rather harsh treatment of his students, Severus possessed the knowledge and the skills to make an excellent Defence instructor. He would need to have another conversation with him about his classroom behaviour, but he had faith in Severus.
"I don't give a damn how talented he is. The greasy git can't teach!" Harry shouted. "He's a foul, petty tosser who treats any non-Slytherin like absolute rubbish! He doesn't even try to teach us anything-he just insults us! He'll be no better than Umbridge was!"
"He's not wrong, Albus," McGonagall said firmly. "Severus Snape may be the worst professor Hogwarts has ever known in all my time here-and that's saying something."
"You exaggerate, both of you," Dumbledore insisted. This was not what he had expected. He had assumed that Harry would object to his decision, and thought that Hermione might as well. But he did not anticipate Minerva joining in. He knew that she disapproved of Severus' appointment, but he had not expected her to openly oppose him in front of their students. Knowing that their Head of House agreed with them would only strengthen their opposition to Severus becoming the new Defence teacher. It seemed that inviting her to sit in on the meeting might have been an error, but it was too late to do anything about that now. All he could do now was attempt to bring all three of them around to his line of thinking. "Surely you can't believe he's worse than Gilderoy Lockhart, who knew nothing about the subject he was supposed to teach? Or Dolores Umbridge, who used her post to push Minister Fudge's agenda?"
"Professor Lockhart might have been clueless, but at least he didn't threaten us or insult us on a regular basis," Hermione interjected. "As for Umbridge, I agree that she was an abomination. But at least we could understand that-she was here because your hands were tied by Fudge. But Snape? You hired him. You have kept him on all these years, even though you surely know how ghastly he treats anyone who isn't in Slytherin. And now you want to allow him to teach Defence? In the middle of a war? A proper Defence class is more important now than ever, and if Professor Snape is put in charge, we won't learn how to defend ourselves." Dumbledore prepared to respond in defence of Severus, but Harry spoke first.
"You're wasting your breath, Hermione," Harry said bitterly. "Dumbledore hasn't made any effort to make sure I'm properly prepared, and he's known for years that it would fall to me to finish Voldemort off! If he won't see to a genuine education for 'the Chosen One', why should anyone else be any different?"
"What do you mean, it's up to you to finish him off, Potter?" McGonagall asked.
"Harry, don't--" Dumbledore began in alarm, but Harry spoke over him.
"No, Headmaster. It's my decision who gets to know, and I'm going to tell her. I trust her-well, more than I trust you, at least. She has just as much right to know as you do. Hopefully she'll have a better understanding of where I'm coming from once she hears it," Harry said.
"What? What don't I know?" McGonagall asked, looking at Dumbledore suspiciously. The Headmaster did not respond to her, though. All of his attention was squarely on Harry. He desperately wanted to prevent Harry from giving the contents of the prophecy to Minerva. In Dumbledore's mind, the fewer who knew what the prophecy said, the better. But there was something...different about the young man seated across from him. Dumbledore's intuition was telling him that he needed to tread very carefully with Harry at the moment. He was far angrier than Dumbledore had expected. He'd given Harry a wide berth for over a month, yet his anger towards him had only seemed to grow. Even more alarming, it was not the blind, emotional anger he'd shown when they had talked in this very office at the end of last term. It was...calculated. Harry was cross with him over more than just the events of last term, or what he'd just learned about Dumbledore's plans for the DADA post. Dumbledore would need to be very cautious, and do whatever he could to avoid upsetting Harry any further. Thus, since he knew Minerva could be trusted implicitly, he remained silent, leaving the decision up to Harry.
"Do you know about the prophecy?" Harry asked McGonagall.
"The one we protected throughout the past school year? I know only that it exists, and the Dark Lord wanted to hear what it said," McGonagall answered. "That is all Albus told us, despite our protests."
"Of course," Harry said cynically. "He loves keeping things to himself, doesn't he? But he's told it to me, in full. It would've been nice if he'd bothered to tell me a bit earlier, since it does concern me directly, but better late than never, I suppose."
"And what does this prophecy say, Potter?" McGonagall asked him. He didn't reply right away, and for a moment, Dumbledore thought that Harry had changed his mind. Instead, he merely signalled to Hermione, who spoke in his stead.
"It says that either Harry will kill Voldemort, or Voldemort will kill Harry," Hermione said quietly, drawing a gasp from her Head of House.
Dumbledore watched as his Deputy Headmistress turned her head to fix him with a scowl. "And you knew this? You knew what this prophecy said, and never told Harry? How long did you know, exactly?"
"He's known for years, Professor," Hermione answered immediately. "He knew of it before Harry's parents were killed."
"All that time?" McGonagall exclaimed, her scowl deepening. "Albus Dumbledore! How could you keep that to yourself all that time? Didn't Potter deserve to know? And shouldn't you have done more to prepare him, if he's the one that must defeat He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"
"I concede that I should have told Harry about the prophecy much sooner than I did," Dumbledore admitted. "I said as much to him at the end of term. But it was not a decision to be made lightly, nor was the possibility of giving him extra training to better prepare him for the task he must perform. The moment I told Harry about the prophecy, he would be a child no longer. I wanted Harry to have as normal and happy a childhood as possible, given the circumstances."
"A normal childhood? Any chance of that was taken away from me the moment you left me on the Dursleys' doorstep," Harry said flatly.
`I am sorry that the Dursleys didn't show you the love and affection they should have, Harry," Dumbledore insisted. "I truly am. As I explained to you, however, it was, and still is, necessary that you spend at least a portion of your year living under the same roof as Petunia, your mother's sister. However poorly they may treat you, it is still the safest place for you to be when not at Hogwarts. Given who you are, given how badly Lord Voldemort and his followers wish to harm you, I am afraid that your health must trump your happiness in that case. You may resent me for placing you there, but I do not regret the decision I made fifteen years ago. You are alive, after all."
Dumbledore meant it. Of course he regretted that Harry had had to grow up in an unhappy home. But he had been right to worry about Harry's health; all he'd been put through over the past few years was proof of that. It had not been an easy decision, leaving him on the Dursleys' doorstep all those years ago. But he still believed that it had been the correct one.
"I understand that, Headmaster," Harry said honestly. "I understand why you left me there, and I don't blame you for making that decision. But you can't have it both ways. You can't condemn me to a rotten childhood one minute, and then try to preserve that so-called childhood by hiding things from me in the next."
"Was it so wrong to want to shield you from such a heavy burden for as long as possible?" Dumbledore asked. "Your strained relationship with the Dursleys notwithstanding, you did find true companionship with Ms. Granger here, as well as Mr. Weasley. I suppose I was hoping you could make up for lost time by enjoying yourself with your friends here at Hogwarts."
"And what about when I graduate? Am I supposed to go out and kill one of the most powerful wizards of all time with a basic Hogwarts education?" Harry retorted. "You might have kept the prophecy from me because you wanted to protect me, but you can't protect me. It's going to come down to me to kill him. You should have been doing everything you could to help me prepare for that. Because, right now? I have absolutely no chance of beating Voldemort. He'd wipe the floor with me."
"With any luck, it will be many years before you must confront him for the final time," Dumbledore stated, hoping to reassure Harry. Instead, his words only served to rile Harry up even further.
"How can you say that?" Harry snarled. "Even if I were able to avoid Voldemort and his Death Eaters for years-and a fat chance that that'll happen, since I've been fighting them since I was eleven-where would that leave everyone else? The longer this war lasts, the more innocent people Voldemort will kill. If it's going to be up to me to end the war, I should be working my arse off to get ready. And you should be helping me."
"But that's just what I've done, Harry," Dumbledore insisted. "I trust Professor Snape implicitly, and I am confident that he will make a fine Defence Against the Dark Arts instructor. Whether you like him or not, he'll be able to teach you things about the Dark Arts that none of your previous professors could have."
"Things that he learned while he was a member of Voldemort's inner circle, you mean?" Harry said snidely. "I'm sure Snape knows loads about Defence, just like he knows loads about Potions, and Occlumency too. But what good would that do me? Why would Defence classes with him turn out any different from 5 years of Potions, or the Occlumency lessons you forced him to give me? He'd just spend all of the class time insulting me-well, except for the time that he'd use to insult my father, of course. I'm not taking any Defence class taught by that spiteful, greasy git."
"I'm sorry, Harry, but the decision has already been made," Dumbledore said sadly, disappointed that he still hadn't brought Harry around. "I know that you do not think fondly of Professor Snape, but I truly believe that he is the most qualified person available for the job. As soon as I can get Professor Slughorn to agree to come back as the Potions master, I will formally offer the Defence job to Severus." He had hoped to make Harry understand that Severus was deserving of the post, even if they did dislike one another. It didn't look as if it was going to work. He only hoped that he could get back in Harry's good graces once term started.
McGonagall glared at him, irritated that he'd brushed aside Harry and Hermione's complaints against Snape-complaints she herself had been making for years. He refused to look at her, though, so she turned her attention to her two Gryffindors. Dumbledore did the same, observing the two teens in silence.
Harry and Hermione were staring intently at one another, communicating without actually speaking. Finally, after several long moments of silence, both teens nodded, and Harry shifted in his seat, looking back at Dumbledore once again.
"Then I'm pulling out of Hogwarts," Harry said firmly.
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