“Oomph!”
Harry heard a startled grunt next to him, and whirled in the dark toward the sound. “Who’s there?” he asked instinctively, forgetting for a moment that he was still inside the Pensieve, and drawing his wand.
“It’s just me,” said Ginny from the shadows. “Lumos.”
Harry squinted into the sudden brightness and saw Ginny standing a few feet away from him. She was carrying a thick book and looked around curiously before her eyes settled on Harry. “So this is a memory, then? Why’s it so dark?” she asked, wrinkling her nose.
Harry shook his head with a smile; she sounded remarkably like Ron at that moment. “The memory is over, you missed it. What are you doing here, anyway? Has it been that long?”
Ginny raised her eyebrows at him. “Yes, it’s been that long. Ron and Hermione are waiting for us, just like I said. Let’s go.”
Harry looked around the dark room once more. “I’m still not sure how.”
“I do.” Ginny grinned and indicated the large book she was holding. “While I was waiting I asked the Room for a book on Pensieves. I now know everything you could possibly want to know about them. All you have to do is this.” She took Harry’s hand and raised her wand. “Ortusio!” she cried, and Harry felt himself rising through the darkness until he landed with a hard thump on the floor in the Room of Requirement.
Hermione was studying the numerous volumes on Dumbledore’s shelves, while Ron was examining the sword of Godric Gryffindor in the glass case behind the desk. They both jumped when Harry and Ginny returned unexpectedly.
“Harry!” cried Hermione, replacing the book she had been examining carefully in its right place before hurrying over and helping them up. “What happened? What did you see?”
“Too much,” he replied, feeling emotionally drained by his trip into the Pensieve. Harry passed a hand over his eyes; he wished that the room had one of the big comfortable chairs from the Gryffindor common room for him to sink into. When he opened his eyes he was slightly surprised to see a large red chair in front of the desk. He dropped into it gratefully.
“Come on, Harry. What was the memory?” asked Ron impatiently. He perched himself on top of Dumbledore’s desk rather irreverently. Ginny sat at Harry’s feet, and Hermione pulled over a chair from one of the tables. Harry took a deep breath before beginning.
“It was the night Trelawney made the prophecy,” he finally said, watching their reactions. Ron nodded, clearly wanting to hear more, but Hermione looked puzzled.
“I thought Professor Dumbledore already showed you the prophecy,” she said. “Why would he leave it for you again?”
Before Harry could answer, Ginny interrupted. “What prophecy?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.
Harry saw Ron and Hermione exchange looks; Ginny noticed it too. “What aren’t you telling me?” she demanded. “Come on - I’m part of this now, too. What prophecy? Is it one from the Department of Mysteries last year?”
“Ginny - ” started Ron, apparently thinking he could head off his fiery sister. Ginny shot him a glare that stopped him silent.
“It’s okay, Ron, really,” said Harry. He took another deep breath before turning to Ginny; he had dreaded telling her about the prophecy as much as he had feared telling Ron and Hermione last summer. “Yes, it was the prophecy from the Department of Mysteries. Dumbledore told me about it that same night, after Sirius died.” Harry felt the familiar sadness in his chest as he remembered that awful night at the Ministry.
“And it has to do with you?” she asked, the edge to her voice now tempered by concern.
“Yes, it does.” Harry swallowed hard and finally told her about the prophecy that Trelawney had made before his birth: how he was the one fated to vanquish Voldemort, marked as an equal, with a power the Dark Lord did not possess.
As he told her, her eyes grew wide, and her hand went to her mouth in shock. When he finished, they were all silent for a moment, once again reliving the terrible implications of the mysterious prophecy.
“So what does it mean?” Ginny finally asked in a quiet voice. “You have to kill Voldemort, or he will kill you?” It was one of the first questions Harry had asked Dumbledore himself. He nodded, still uncomfortable with the idea.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked after another long silence.
Harry shrugged, unsure which of a dozen reasons he should share. “At first I didn’t think I should tell anyone. Later I didn’t want to. I’m sorry Ginny, but I didn’t want you knowing I had to kill someone, or be killed instead. It’s such a horrible thing to live with.” He knew, because he still struggled with it every day.
Ginny nodded wisely, suddenly looking older. “Yes, it is. But Harry, I’ve always known you would be the one to defeat You“Know-Who. Ever since you went into the Chamber of Secrets and destroyed Tom Riddle and his diary “ it was meant to be you.”
Even as Harry felt her words warm his heart, he couldn’t help but glance guiltily at Ron and Hermione. The diary had been a Horcrux, though no one had known it at the time. Now Harry had four more to find and destroy before he could vanquish Voldemort - as well as another secret to keep from Ginny, thinking he could protect her.
Ginny looked knowingly at the three of them and sighed. “All right, obviously there’s more, but let’s talk about this now. Why would Dumbledore leave you the memory of a prophecy he already shared with you?”
Harry ran his hand through his hair as he thought about the late headmaster’s reasons for leaving that particular memory. “I think,” he began slowly, “it has to do with Snape.”
“That’s right!” Ron exclaimed, and Hermione nodded. “Dumbledore told you Snape heard the prophecy, and took it to You-Know-Who. Did you see him then?”
“Oh, I saw him,” Harry answered bitterly. “But he wasn’t the one who leaked the prophecy to Voldemort.”
Ron twitched. “You mean Dumbledore was lying?” he asked.
“Not really,” replied Harry, looking at them intently. “Snape was there, he heard the prophecy, and he told Voldemort; but Snape wasn’t there to spy on Dumbledore, he was there to join the Order of the Phoenix.”
Hermione looked at him sharply; Harry could tell she was starting to piece it all together.
“Snape went to the Hog’s Head to join the Order?” asked Ron incredulously. “Why?”
“I don’t know!” Harry exclaimed, frustrated. “Dumbledore’s brother was there, Aberforth - he’s the barman at the Hog’s Head. He caught Snape, and didn’t believe him. Dumbledore used Legilimency to find out why Snape left the Death Eaters, and said he trusted him. He said something terrible had happened to Snape.”
“And you don’t know what?” asked Ginny. Hermione was still quiet, listening intently.
“I have no idea,” replied Harry. “Maybe it will be in another memory. Dumbledore decided Snape was better off alive than dead. He said the Order could hide him but that they probably wouldn’t get away with it again. He said - ”
“Again?” interrupted Hermione, looking thoughtful. “That must mean they had hidden someone else already and didn’t want to risk it a second time.”
Harry and the others stared at her; of course that’s what it meant, Harry had been blind not to see it. He didn’t know how it was relevant, though. He nodded and continued. “Dumbledore said they could use a spy in the Death Eaters, but Snape told him Voldemort wouldn’t take him back, because of what had happened. Dumbledore said Voldemort would be very pleased with anyone who brought him valuable information.”
Harry paused, and saw Hermione’s eyes go wide with realization. “He didn’t - ”
“Yes!” Harry answered before she could finish, standing up and beginning to pace as he felt his anger and confusion return. “He did!” Ron and Ginny glanced back and forth between Harry and Hermione, puzzled.
“Oh, Harry,” whispered Hermione. “I’m so sorry, you must feel awful - ”
“About what?” interrupted Ron, clearly not understanding. “What valuable information?” He stopped, as Ginny gasped and they both realized the terrible answer. “You don’t mean. . . the prophecy?” Ron asked, incredulous.
“I do,” Harry replied grimly. “Dumbledore sent Snape back to Voldemort with the first half of the prophecy. He said it would get Snape into Voldemort’s inner circle. Snape was to report on the Death Eaters to Dumbledore, who would feed him information from the Order for Voldemort.”
Hermione was shaking her head, her face pale as she stared at Harry. “Do you know what this means, Harry?”
“I think so,” he replied, gazing back at her; though in truth he was not entirely sure now, having seen her reaction.
“What does it mean?” Ron asked, trying to break their eye contact.
“Dumbledore was the one who really leaked the prophecy to Voldemort, not Snape,” said Harry flatly. “Snape was just following Dumbledore’s orders.”
Now Ron’s eyes went wide as he understood the awful truth. “Why would he do that?” he demanded, aghast. “And why would he tell you it was Snape?”
Ginny was watching Hermione, who still looked pale and worried. “What’s wrong?” she asked. “What else is there?”
Harry waited anxiously for her answer. She spoke in a quiet voice. “Harry, I don’t think Dumbledore gave that information to Voldemort just to get Snape into his inner circle.” She paused, as if reluctant to believe what she was about to say. “I think he wanted Voldemort to come after you.”
“What!” cried Ron and Ginny together, and Harry stopped pacing to stare at her.
“Why?” he whispered, feeling the blood drain from his face.
Hermione looked miserable. “I think Dumbledore wanted Voldemort to come after you in order to mark you. It’s part of the prophecy, that the one with the power to vanquish him would be marked as his equal. If Voldemort didn’t know about the prophecy, he would have no reason to come after you and mark you as his equal. There would be no Chosen One to vanquish him.”
“Hermione!” exclaimed Ginny. “Are you saying Professor Dumbledore wanted Harry’s parents to die?”
“No, not at all!” said Hermione defensively. “Dumbledore knows a lot more about prophecies than we do. No one can truly predict the future, because no one can foresee the choices a person will make that affect the future. If Voldemort didn’t know about the prophecy, he wouldn’t have even had a choice in deciding whether or not to fulfill it, and the prophecy would have failed. Once Voldemort heard the prophecy, even just the first part, he chose to act on that information. I think Dumbledore was counting on Voldemort doing something, and he believed that whatever Voldemort did it would reveal the Chosen One and fulfill the prophecy.”
Harry was confused. “Wait, what are you saying? That Dumbledore gave Voldemort the prophecy so that Voldemort would come after me, kill my parents, and give me this scar?”
Hermione shook her head. “No, Dumbledore didn’t know they would be killed, he probably thought the Order could protect them. He believed that Voldemort needed to know the prophecy if he was going to act in any way that would mark someone as his equal. So Dumbledore fed him just enough information to worry him.”
“And send him after your parents,” added Ginny quietly.
“And mark you as the Chosen One,” finished Hermione, her face pale.
Harry looked at Ron, stunned. Deep down he knew Hermione was right: Dumbledore had not only used the prophecy to plant a spy in Voldemort’s camp, but he had manipulated the circumstances which had determined Harry’s fate.
“He created you,” breathed Ron, and everyone looked at him in surprised silence. Ron was right: Dumbledore had created Harry Potter, The Chosen One.
Harry sank into the red chair again and let his head fall into his hands. How could this be possible? Everything he had once believed was suddenly wrong: Snape hadn’t betrayed his parents, Dumbledore had. The one person Harry had trusted above all others had been the one to give Voldemort the prophecy, in order to ensure that the Dark Lord would mark the boy destined to vanquish him. Harry suddenly felt used, more used than ever before. He felt as if his entire life had been determined on that rainy night at the Hog’s Head, and was never in his control. It was Dumbledore’s choice, Dumbledore’s decision. Harry bitterly wondered how the headmaster had lived with himself for making such a choice, when it had resulted in such tragic consequences for so many people.
“What are you going to do?” asked Hermione softly, looking concerned. Ron and Ginny were watching him anxiously. Harry glanced up in surprise at the question, and thought about it. There was only one thing he could do: he needed to know more, before he could fully understand and accept the horrible truth he had just learned.
“I’m going to watch those other memories,” he replied, feeling a grim resolve to discover the truth. “And hope to hell we’re wrong.” He stood up and poured a second vial into the Pensieve. Before anyone could stop him, he plunged into the silvery darkness, alone and determined.