Chapter 29
“Thank you Mortimer,” Dumbledore said with a nod at the ancient headmaster before turning back in his seat to face Harry. “There you have it. Now you have heard the story just as I did when I first became headmaster decades ago.”
Rather than clearing things up, Darlisscrop’s explanation had left Harry with even more questions before. Worst of all being why hadn’t anyone been able to find the third diary? Apparently his confusion was fairly obvious, for Dumbledore then asked with a smile, “Is there anything about Wulfric Gryffindor that we could attempt to clear up for you, Harry?”
“Er, yes.” He had no idea where to begin.
“Well, first of all, how exactly would he help us destroy Voldemort? I mean, you said back in Godric’s Hollow that if we knew where the Half-Blood Prince was we could stop Voldemort and win the war. But I thought I was the only one who could destroy Voldemort.”
Dumbledore shook his head patiently. “While the artifact that Wulfric Gryffindor possesses may indeed be powerful, I doubt it could destroy Voldemort. You are right “ the only one with that power, apparently, is you. No, the power of the Half-Blood Prince is different altogether.”
Here the headmaster leaned back in his chair and gazed at the wall behind Harry with a faraway look in his eyes. Fawkes made a soft chirping sound.
“When I told you he could be the key to winning the war, I meant that he would help us unite wizardkind with its past allies, allies whose help we stand sorely in need of. I am speaking mainly of the goblins and centaurs. If we had their support, Harry, Voldemort would not dare to challenge the Ministry for a long time, during which we might hope to destroy him.”
“He’s preparing to attack pretty soon then?”
“According to my sources (Harry assumed he meant Snape), he is still amassing his army. When that has been completed and he has enough strength, he will free his imprisoned Death Eaters from Azkaban and wage a full-scale assault on the Ministry. His purpose, of course, is to destroy the collective will of the wizarding public by crushing its head “ the government. Considering the current state of chaos and fear we are in, as well as the refusal of the centaurs and goblins to come to our aid, he has a pretty good chance of doing so. That is, unless the current situation changes drastically.
“If he succeeds in overthrowing the Ministry, he and his supporters will then systematically eliminate any remaining resistance by using his usual weapons, subterfuge and treachery. We will, at that time, be too scattered and too unorganized to mount any real opposition and few will have the courage to fight at all. Once all resistance is gone he will establish a new government with the goal of purifying the wizarding race “ a bit ironic considering his own parentage “ and appoint himself the head. Not satisfied with conquering this small island, he will then focus his attention on the continent. Who knows where it will end from there…
Harry sat in silence, almost overwhelmed. Noticing this, Dumbledore nodded sadly.
“Yes, I know how you feel. You can see why I have been interested in the legend of the Half-Blood Prince as of late. If we could win the support of the goblins and centaurs we would be able to stop Voldemort’s advance before it gained momentum. ”
Not wanting to dwell on the unpleasant picture the headmaster had painted, Harry quickly asked the next question that had been hovering in his mind.
“So, what exactly is this artifact? I mean, what has the power to make the goblins and centaurs help us in the war?”
Dumbledore had just opened his mouth to reply when someone else’s voice called from across the room.
“It’s a golden scepter, with gems set into it representing each of the original goblin tribes!” blurted out the blonde wizard named Tradwell. “Whoever holds it has the power to make the goblins do their bidding…”
“Nonsense!” interrupted a bland, scholarly looking headmaster with straight grey hair whose portrait hung on the lower half of the wall in front of Harry. “The Kletchak documents turned out to be phony, Timothy, the Scepter of Rule doesn’t exist! Actual historical documents point to some sort of magical gauntlet forged by the great goblin chieftain Werkchuck himself…”
“Oh bosh on your historical documents, Hammerton, according to them the Chamber of Secrets doesn’t exist either, does it?” said a third portrait, this time a plump, strong jawed witch just above Dumbledore’s head. The rest of the portraits nodded in agreement and glared at the wizard named Hammerton, who snapped his mouth shut, clearly scandalized.
“That’s what happens when you rely too much on books and not enough on your own research!” resumed the witch. “From what I found, the artifact is most likely a jade crown that bestows mind control powers on its wearer. After all, he is called the Half-Blood Prince, isn’t he?”
“It’s not a crown, it’s the Monmouth stone!” yelled someone.
“It’s a ring, dolt!” called out someone else.
“As you see, many theories exist,” Dumbledore said to Harry in a weary undertone while the portraits raged on all around them. He motioned Harry nearer then leaned forward himself so only Harry could hear him.
“I do have my own theory, of course, but, unlike my colleagues here, I also have some very convincing evidence to support it. But I shall tell you more of that some other time.”
After giving him a secretive wink, Dumbledore rose from his seat and raised his hand for silence. It took the portraits a minute or so to settle down enough. Once they did, Dumbledore took his seat, turned once again to Harry and said, “But I think you have one more question that is undoubtedly gnawing at you, Harry “ the same question that tortures us all…”
At this the few portraits who had still been arguing (Tradwell foremost among them), fell silent and turned deflated, resentful looks towards Harry, as if they knew exactly what he were going to ask next.
“So…if no one has ever found it, does that mean there is no third diary?”
“That’s the one,” one of the portraits replied sorrowfully.
“It might, Harry. It might.” Dumbledore replied simply.
Harry looked at him despairingly. It seemed cruel to hear such an amazing story just to be told it was all a dead end.
“Welcome to the hoax that is the Half-Blood Prince, boy!” the wizard named Percival said triumphantly, noting the forlorn look on Harry’s face. He was quickly hushed by a number of other portraits.
“Come now, Percival,” scolded the strong-jawed witch. “Just because you weren’t able to find him after a lifetime of searching doesn’t mean it’s a hoax.”
“You fool, Grenhilda!” Percival snapped back. “We’ve all spent lifetimes trying to find him! Centuries of fruitless searching, wandering around the castle at nighttime like imbeciles hoping for some clue somewhere that might point the way. And what do we have to show for it? Nothing! And now we’re infecting this poor boy, dooming him to the same lifetime of frustration we’ve had. If it were up to me we would put a torch to the whole matter and never speak of it again!”
“Percival spent the last ten years of his tenure here searching for the third diary. You might even say it grew into a bit of an unhealthy obsession,” Dumbledore explained to a pronounced “Humph!” from Percival.
“So, is there a third diary or isn’t there?” Harry asked again, hoping for a more definitive answer than ‘maybe’. He was beginning to feel slightly infuriated himself “ why spend all this time talking about something if it didn’t exist?
“Well, none of us can definitively say that there is, but at the same time, we can’t say that there isn’t,” said Dumbledore, shaking his head.
“What do you mean?”
The headmaster looked at him inquiringly. “Tell me, have you found the second hidden room, the small one with wooden cross-beams yet?”
Harry shook his head. Apparently this surprised a few of the portraits.
“Really?” asked Tradwell incredulously.
“Perhaps he’s not so intelligent after all, eh, Albus? I mean, that room is the easiest one to find,” added Phineas Nigellus in a smug tone.
All this further irritated Harry, who suddenly felt a need to defend himself.
“Look, I know it’s in one of the towers, and I know it’s towards the top of the castle, but I’ve searched every tower and it’s not there!”
Dumbledore raised his hand again to restore silence.
“It’s ok Harry, it’s no matter. Don’t mind them,” he said, casting a reproachful glance at Phineas. “Once you have found the room you will understand our consternation. I will not tell you any more than that. I would, however, suggest searching the towers again. If you are truly observant I think you should find the room. And allow me to offer you one small clue: Not all doors are placed in the most practical of places.”
“Oh sure, Albus. Why don’t you just tell him where the room is?” Phineas said sarcastically as he rolled his eyes.
Harry left the headmasters office that night with his head abuzz. Search all the towers? They had already done that, was it possible they could have missed it? With the exception of the Astronomy tower he had searched every one of them personally, and Ron and Hermione had assured him there was nothing there. And what did Dumbledore’s clue mean? Not all doors are placed in the most practical of places. Did that mean it was some sort of hidden door, like the entrance to Diagon Alley or the Slytherin common room? Perhaps a trapdoor, like the one that lead to Trelawney’s classroom? All these questions and more circled through his head as he made his way back through the nearly empty corridors of Hogwarts. The sound of a door opening in the hallway up ahead snapped him from his reverie.
A large figure slipped out of the doorway, followed by two slender ones. It didn’t take Harry long to realize who they were: Malfoy, Crabbe, and Pansy Parkinson. They were far enough away that he would have to yell for them to hear him, yet close enough that they would recognize him at once. Harry halted and slipped his hand underneath his robes, grasping his wand. He doubted Malfoy would try to start anything “ ever since the altercation in Privet Drive that summer he had been surprisingly quiet “ but it was better to be prepared, just in case. Knowing Malfoy it was most likely he would yell a derisive, partially-clever insult to which Pansy would shriek in laughter and Crabbe would chuckle stupidly, then walk away. Harry readied himself.
It came as a bit of a shock, then, when Malfoy looked down the hall at Harry, appeared to study him for a second, then turned and walked away without saying a word, accidentally running into a small statue of an inebriated dwarf as he went. Pansy and Crabbe, having also spotted Harry, watched him walk away with the same surprise, apparently expecting some sort of insult themselves. When none came, they hurriedly followed after.
That was strange, Harry thought to himself as he continued his course towards the Gryffindor common room. It was most unlike Malfoy to pass-up any opportunity to taunt or insult him. He had barely even given a sneer before walking off. And hadn’t Ron said Grendelhall had given him detention tonight? He couldn’t possibly have finished it already. Unless he had gotten out of it somehow. Perhaps his father had bought his way out of detention…
Then Harry remembered that Malfoy’s father was in Azkaban and highly unlikely to buy his way out of anything. The thought gave him immense satisfaction.
Shrugging off the strange encounter with Malfoy, Harry’s thoughts quickly returned to the Half-Blood Prince and the third diary. Dumbledore had advised him to research all the towers again. The mere thought gave him a hot twinge of frustration. They had already searched every tower in the castle “ what exactly had they missed? Trelawney’s tower had the wooden rafters but was much too big to be the room he had seen in the diary. He had been in the Ravenclaw common room tower and knew that wasn’t it. McGonagall’s classroom was also in a tower, but had a metallic, domed-type ceiling in it. All that was left were the smaller towers (which he had already checked) and the Astronomy tower, which Ron and Hermione had already investigated. For a brief moment he considered checking the Astronomy tower himself, just in case they had missed something, but quickly decided it was pointless. Hermione was one of the most observant people he had ever known. There was no way he was going to find something there if she hadn’t.
Just then Harry heard a soft, hushed noise coming from behind a tapestry he had just passed, almost like a giggle. He stopped walking and leaned towards the tapestry. After a brief moment he heard two faint voices that sounded like they were far away.
“Come on, just one more…you promised that if I got an ‘E’ on my Transfiguration essay you would…” said a familiar male voice.
“Ok, ok, but then that’s it. We’ve got to get back to the common room, we’re prefects…” said a female voice that also sounded familiar. Then there was silence.
Knowing that he didn’t really want to see what he was about to see, but somehow unable to stop himself, Harry slowly drew aside the corner of the tapestry and looked in. There, at the top of a short staircase, stood Ron and Hermione, locked in each other’s arms and sharing a long, tender kiss.
He hurriedly released the tapestry and continued on his way to the common room, a strange, sick sort of feeling in his gut. For some time now he had been fairly certain his two best friends were together, even expected that they probably did a fair bit of snogging, but seeing it first hand was almost too much. He walked even faster, trying to get the image from his mind.
If this was what they did while on “Prefect Duty”, Harry suddenly realized he wouldn’t bet on Hermione spotting a fully-grown Mountain Troll, let alone a hidden doorway during their previous visit to the Astronomy tower. He would have to go there himself.
Harry Potter and the Legacy of the Founders by VoldemortsPatronus
Chapter Notes: Thanks everyone for your patience. My wife and I just had our first baby, so things have been a little hectic lately. Thanks again for the reviews, I love to hear what you have to say.