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Yuletide Blessing in Disguise	By : Gandalfs-Beard Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Harry/Hermione Views: 123887 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 10
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any related properties--all rights belong to Rowling. Nor do I make any money from the production of this work.

Chapter List
- 11
- 12
- 13
Revelations

It was the fifth day of Christmas - otherwise known as New Year’s Eve Eve (or New Year’s Double Eve as Fred and George had called it when announcing the party that evening in the common room). Harry was so wound up in anticipation of the upcoming chat with Dumbledore that he barely ate a thing at breakfast, managing to down only a buttery crumpet and a piece of bacon.
“Wha’zhup Harry?” Ron mumbled through a mouthful of scrambled eggs and sausage. Hermione looked slightly sick, but bit her tongue for the sake of keeping the peace.
“Er... I’m seeing Dumbledore later,” Harry replied vaguely.
Neville gave Ron a little nudge. Ron caught Hermione’s poorly concealed look of disgust and hastily swallowed the rest of the food in his mouth before speaking again.
“You in some kind of trouble then?”
“No,” said Harry, shaking his head. “It’s not like that. Er... supposedly Dumbledore’s going to tell me some stuff - maybe stuff about V... You-Know-Who which has t’do with me, like the visions I keep having. Hermione and I are going to see him at lunchtime.”
“Hermione’s going with you too?” Ron frowned.
“Why wouldn’t she?” said Neville, slightly puzzled. “She is Harry’s girlfriend.”
“I know but... it’s just...” Ron trailed off, his ears turning pink. It suddenly struck Harry that Ron was starting to feel a bit left out of things, even though he’d been spending a lot more time with Neville these days anyway.
“Er... Yeah. But I’ll tell you everything later - promise,” said Harry. “You too, Nev. I suppose you both ought to know, seeing as you two were the ones who had to put up with me the most last night.”
“Cool!” said Ron, brightening. “That’s alright then.”
“Thanks Harry.” Neville’s eyes widened a bit in surprise, but he seemed happy to be included.
The rest of the morning wore on. As Harry was too agitated to sit still and finish the science fiction book he had been reading, Hermione suggested a walk in the snow. Finally it was lunch time; Harry and Hermione made their way to Dumbledore’s office with their “secret escort.”
“You may enter,” Dumbledore’s voice called out from within after Harry rapped the knocker on his door.
Awaiting the threesome between the armchairs and Dumbledore’s desk was a mahogany coffee table set with three golden plates and crystal glasses beside each. On Dumbledore’s desk was a large stone basin with runes carved along the edge, from which emanated a silvery glow.
“By all means, order up what you will,” said Dumbledore warmly, “and we can begin whenever you feel so inclined.”
Harry hurriedly munched his way through a pork pie and some crisps, washing it down with some apple cider. Hermione and Dora took their time and were still eating when Harry peered eagerly at Dumbledore.
“Very well, Harry,” said Dumbledore, a twinkle in his eye, “I see that you are ready. Feel free to interrupt if you have any questions. First, some of what I am about to tell you should be kept in as small a circle as possible - for your ears alone - as it would not do for the information to inadvertently reach Voldemort’s ears.
“Miss Granger is being allowed to share in this as she is so close to you, that I don’t doubt you would be hard-pressed to keep a secret from her. And Tonks is joining us, because not only is she your protection detail - and therefore needs to know what she may be possibly up against - but also because she has recently become a trusted member of the Order of the Phoenix, on the recommendation of your godfather Sirius, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and Alastor Moody.
“And of course,” Dumbledore added with a twinkle in his piercing blue eyes, “I recall Miss Tonks quite fondly from her school days. ... Otherwise, Professor McGonagall is the only other person with whom I have entrusted with everything I know.
“What’s the Order of the Phoenix?” Harry asked, curious despite his desire to move on to the more important bits.
“For the time-being,” Dumbledore replied, “let it suffice that the Order of the Phoenix is an organisation of my creation to fight Voldemort which your father and mother belonged to, as did Sirius. Today, our focus will be on the questions you had asked at the end of first year, which also bear some relevance to the visions which have recently plagued you. As I recall, you asked me why Voldemort wanted to kill you...”
“Yeah,” Harry agreed, nodding. “Eventually I worked out between what you told me, and what I remembered others telling me, that Voldemort’s going to keep coming back isn’t he? He means to keep coming back until he restores himself and finishes me off doesn’t he? And when he’s done that, he’s going to try and take Britain again...”
“Voldemort told me at the end of first year that he only killed my mother to get to me. And Hagrid once told me that something about me prevented Voldemort from killing me, and that Voldemort vanished after trying to kill me - but Hagrid also said there wasn’t enough human in him left to die completely... And I also remember Mr Ollivander telling me that my wand shared the same core as Voldemort’s - a phoenix feather.
“And my scar - which you and I talked about a bit already - it hurts when I’m near Voldemort, or when he feels something strongly. I know that means that somehow we’re connected, and I reckon that connection has something to do with why I sometimes have visions of what he’s up to.
“And I know that Voldemort chose me for a reason. He knows that there’s something about me that might finish him off for good - So one of us is going to have to kill the other eventually, aren’t we? It’s either him or me! ... All I really don’t know is why.”
“Very good, Harry,” Dumbledore nodded, looking quite impressed as his bushy eyebrows rose. “I must say that your intuitions and deductive skills have stood you well - as they have in previous years - in regards to the unique challenges which befall you...”
“Er... well I had loads of help from Hermione,” said Harry, turning a bit pink. “I doubt I would’ve made it this far without her. Ron helped a bit too of course.”
Hermione blushed in mid-bite of her ham and cucumber sandwich.
“Indeed,” said Dumbledore, smiling. “Which Professor McGonagall herself has taken note of - particularly in regards to Miss Granger. ... In any case, to begin answering your question, it is often wise to start at the... beginning. And it all started with a prophecy, as revealed by none other than our own Professor Trelawney in the midst of a job interview.
“I almost didn’t hire her, as by and large her abilities as a seer are... unreliable, to put it most kindly. She did however, fall into a trance during the interview, and produced a very real prophecy, cementing her position at Hogwarts...”
“That was her first Prophecy, wasn’t it...” Harry gasped, his eyes widening. “I remember, at the end of third year you said that the one she made about Wormtail rejoining Voldemort was only the second one she had ever done.”
“Quite so Harry,” Dumbledore agreed. “Now, before I reveal the Prophecy, I should say that Prophecies are a very dubious business, regardless of their reality as a phenomenon. The Hall of Prophecies in the Department of Mysteries is filled with Prophecies which never came to fruition. The fact is that there are too many variables which come into play as time slips ever into the future...
“A single decision taken by one person, a single chance happenstance, a path not taken, may change everything. In your case however, certain factors came into play which make this particular Prophecy inevitable. And I thought it best for you to witness it firsthand...”
Dumbledore gestured towards the stone basin, and Hermione - who had since polished off her lunch - suddenly realised what it was.
“Is... is that a Pensieve?” she asked, perking up with great interest.
“Indeed so,” Dumbledore replied. “And it contains a copy of my memory of the event in question.”
Dumbledore prodded the misty substance swirling in the basin, from which the silvery glow emanated. A tall familiar figure draped in shawls and beads rose from the basin, her eyes magnified many times by her glasses. A harsh guttural voice quite unlike her usual dreamy tones issued from Trelawney’s mouth.
“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... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies...”
Professor Dumbledore prodded the silvery mist once more, and the echo of Trelawney sank back into the basin.
“Well, Harry, there it is. Much of the Prophecy has already been fulfilled, and a good deal of it you yourself have simply deduced through the process of Reason - piecing together bits of information you have gleaned these past few years.
“You are, of course, the one who was born as the seventh month dies. Your parents faced Voldemort three times and survived, though unfortunately they did not survive the fourth encounter. The other key identifier is that Voldemort marked you as his equal when you received that scar.
“It was possible that the Prophecy referred to another, but when Voldemort chose to mark you instead of the other, he not only made the Prophecy inevitable, he also made it clear that you were the one the Prophecy referred to... the one who would vanquish the Dark Lord...”
“Hang on a minute,” Harry interjected, frowning in puzzlement, “I get all the other parts then, but I don’t have any power that Voldemort doesn’t know about! How can I? ... I’m only in fourth year, and he’s an evil genius that knows all kinds of magic - more than I’ll ever know...”
“Ah, Harry, that is where you are wrong,” Dumbledore smiled sadly. “Yes, you are only in fourth year, and it is true that Voldemort has a vast store of magical knowledge at his disposal, and is also one of the most powerful sorcerers to have lived, but you do indeed possess a power greater than his, despite your youth and inexperience.
“Have you not faced and thwarted Voldemort yourself, thrice already - as many times as your parents had before their final encounter? You could have only accomplished that if your magical power were indeed greater than his...”
“Maybe... I suppose,” said Harry doubtfully, “But a lot of it was luck - and like I said, with Hermione and Ron’s help. And according to what you told me in first year, I only survived Voldemort because of my mum, something to do with her love for me - I was only a baby... How could I have done anything then?”
“Well, Harry, that brings us to another point I was going to bring up - your mother’s sacrifice. By deliberately dying in your stead, when she could have stepped aside, she invoked an ancient magic which did indeed grant you certain protections against Voldemort - and that is indeed why you survived. And yes, that ancient magic could have only been invoked by love.
“However, it can only have been your power which vanquished Voldemort. Your power was so immense, that there was no body to recover, which is why most believe Voldemort to have died that night. When his Killing Curse struck you, it rebounded from the shield against him which your mother’s sacrifice provided, but think, Harry - of what you have learned this year. When people die from a Killing Curse, their bodies remain, physically unscathed.
“Voldemort could not have exploded, taking half your parents’ house with him, by being struck with a mere rebounding Killing Curse. For Voldemort to have been vanquished so thoroughly, the magic could have only come from you, yourself. In your grief, even as an infant without comprehending the complete truth of the matter, you must have produced an enormous outburst of so-called ‘accidental magic.’”
“You’re joking!” Harry gasped, openly gaping at Professor Dumbledore in amazement. He glanced at Hermione, who looked equally stunned.
“No Harry,” the headmaster retorted. “It is the only explanation which fits the facts of the matter.”
“But I’m not that powerful! I can’t be!”
“Your mother is not the only one who loved, Harry. You too possess that power - your immense ability to love is what fuels your magic. It is that power which Voldemort cannot know - indeed it is anathema to him, that which he cannot abide. How do you think you managed to produce such a powerful Patronus in your third year? ...despite your upbringing, which I suspected might be a difficult one...”
“You don’t know the half of it...” Harry muttered, before catching himself and shutting his mouth.
Hermione frowned, thinking of all the things Harry had let slip over the years.
“Why did you leave Harry with the Dursleys?” she asked the headmaster with some heat. “Did you know how horrible they were to him? They kept him locked in a cupboard under the stairs! They put bars on his window when he finally got a room! They didn’t feed him properly, and...”
“Hermione, drop it,” said Harry, flushing with embarrassment.
“No, I won’t drop it!” Hermione said, jutting her jaw defiantly. “I’m sorry Harry, but if I’m right, I think your Aunt and Uncle used to hit you too!”
Harry said nothing, casting his eyes at the floor moodily, wishing now that he had been more careful not to let anything slip. It wasn’t something he liked talking about. Dora looked shocked.
Dumbledore was taken aback. He had known about the cupboard when the magic which addressed the Hogwarts envelopes had pinpointed Harry’s precise location. And when the follow-up envelopes had readdressed themselves to the upstairs bedroom, Dumbledore had taken some comfort in knowing that the Dursleys had been shamed into improving Harry’s living conditions.
Dumbledore hadn’t expected Harry’s aunt and uncle to be enthusiastic about raising Lily’s son, but he had hoped that his Aunt had grown up enough to get past old grudges and at least treat Harry with a bare minimum of caring.
“Harry, is this true?” he asked softly. “Please look at me.”
With some difficulty, Harry raised his head and shrugged. “Er... I dunno - maybe a bit... every now and then. It’s alright, really.”
Hermione scowled crossly; she should have known that Harry would try to downplay his aunt and uncle’s treatment of him.
Piercing blue eyes met iridescent green for a few moments; Harry felt a pricking at the back of his eyeballs. Dumbledore was shaken by what he saw - dodging blows from the fists of a purple faced monster, which more often found their mark than not - a frying pan barely missing Harry’s head...
“I am so sorry Harry,” he said quietly. “I did not know. ... But I should have! I should have looked in on you personally over the years and rectified the situation. ... I have no excuse for that, and no mere apology can ever make up for not doing so...”
“I should bloody think not!” Dora snapped, glaring at the headmaster. “So what are you gonna do about it?”
Dumbledore thought for a moment, rubbing at a brow wrinkled with worry and no small amount of shame. His options were limited, especially now that Voldemort had returned to Britain, seeking once again to reconstitute himself and finish the job he had begun nearly fourteen years ago. There was only one solution which he could think of.
“Harry, how would you feel about being able to use magic when you liked, at home to protect yourself - as long as you do not abuse it?”
“I’d rather not go back at all,” said Harry, perplexed and not quite sure where Dumbledore was going with this. “But if I have to go back, then yeah, that would be great! I think they’d back off a bit if they knew I could do magic at home. ... But the Ministry would never let me.”
“Oh, I don’t think that will present a problem,” said Dumbledore. “I believe that under the circumstances, Cornelius Fudge could easily be persuaded to order your emancipation on his authority as Minister. He certainly would not like to be known as the Minister who allowed the Boy-Who-Lived to be mistreated by his guardians.”
“D’you really mean it?” Harry asked eagerly, his features brightening as he goggled at the headmaster. “I could really do magic at home then? That would help loads when I’m doing summer homework too.”
“Yes! I do indeed mean it, Harry! I know it won’t make up for the past, but it should make your present and future much easier. As long as you follow the Statute of Secrecy laws in regards to other non-magicals, I think this is the best solution to the problem.
“You see Harry, I placed a protective enchantment upon you myself, which is based on the protections your mother imbued in you. As long as you reside under the same roof as the nearest blood relative of your mother - in this case your Aunt - Voldemort cannot touch you there. Nor can any followers of his who bear the Dark Mark.
“That is why I placed you with your Aunt. It was the strongest protection I could think of for you, never having suspected that you would need protection from your relatives.”
“I understand Professor,” said Harry, looking even more excited as the reality of being able to do magic whenever he liked began to sink in. “And it’s alright - I don’t care about having to live with Dursleys as long as I can do magic! That’ll be brilliant!”
Dumbledore glanced at Dora and Hermione, pleased to see that they were both somewhat mollified by the proposal.
“Very well, Harry. I will speak to Fudge, and you will have your emancipation by the New Year. ... Now, on to the next item we are to discuss - the connection with Voldemort, and what it all means. We are now nearing the part of the conversation which must not go beyond the walls of this office - excepting Professor McGonagall, who has counseled me on this matter.
“What about Ron, and maybe Neville - can I tell them?” asked Harry, looking concerned. “They sort of know a bit anyway... because I told them my nightmares were real.”
Dumbledore stroked his beard pensively, then nodded.
“You may reveal some of what we are about to discuss regarding your link then. However, I must ask that on the matter of horcruxes - which are related to your connection - that you keep the secret close. That, you cannot reveal, lest Voldemort discovers that I - that we - are aware of them.
“And in order to keep the secret of our awareness of the horcruxes from Voldemort, I believe it is time for you begin Occlumency and Legilimency lessons before Voldemort himself eventually discovers the connection between you both...”
Hermione gasped, shooting a look at Harry. She apparently knew exactly what Professor Dumbledore was talking about, but Harry didn’t.
“Er... what’s Occlumency and Legilimency?” Harry asked.
“They refer to what non-magicals often call ‘telepathy’ - for lack of a better word,” said Dumbledore. “With Occlumency, one can block one’s mind from being read, or invaded, and with Legilimency one can read someone else’s mind. Normally, this is done through eye contact, and can be performed either casually, simply by eye contact, or more forcefully, with a wand while maintaining eye contact.
“However, due to your link with Voldemort, you can see into his mind - receive his thoughts without eye contact...”
“But then Voldemort could see into my mind through the link too!” said Harry, looking horrified, suddenly not so sure he wanted to be able to see into Voldemort’s mind anymore.
“Yes! Quite so,” the headmaster replied with a nod. “However, it would appear that Voldemort has as yet not discovered the connection that you and he share. And he may not for the foreseeable future, until such a time as he is reconstituted and achieves his full powers. That is why the sooner you learn to block your mind, the better.
“However, this connection has thus far proved very useful to us, and I believe we should take advantage of it while you still have it. We would not have known that Voldemort had returned to Britain until it was too late, without your ability to see his thoughts and sense his moods. That is why I will also be teaching you how to look into his mind.
“Now, as to the connection itself - at first I was not certain how it had been formed, but as I learned more - especially when you discovered Tom Riddle’s diary - it became more clear to me what had likely happened to you when he first attacked you as an infant. ...
“As it turns out, the diary is what is known as a horcrux - a means of preventing death by binding a piece of one’s soul to this plane of existence. A horcrux is created by splitting off a piece of one’s soul, placing it in a container - usually some sort of artifact - and sealing it in with the Darkest of magic. As long as the horcrux exists, the creator cannot die. The only way then to be certain of permanently killing the creator of the horcrux, is to destroy the container itself.
“Only through the most vile of acts, such as murder, can one split one’s soul...which is why most wizards would never dream of such a thing. ... And as I continued to ruminate upon how your link came to be, I was forced to conclude that Voldemort had created more than one horcrux, badly damaging his soul - weakening it to the point where it became unstable.
“When his killing curse was deflected, it left you that scar, but when your outburst of magic caused him to explode, another piece of his unstable soul flew off from his own, and entered you through the scar, attaching itself to your soul...”
“Hang on,” said Harry, feeling a bit ill now at the thought of having a piece of Voldemort in him, “are you saying that I’m a horcrux too then?”
“Bloody Hell!” swore Dora. “That’s an ‘orrible thought!” And from the look on Hermione’s face, it was clear that she thought so as well.
“Yes and no,” Dumbledore sighed, suddenly looking as old and weary as his years. “In a sense, Harry, you are the horcrux Voldemort did not intend to make - a vessel which contains a piece of his soul. But, because Voldemort never performed the necessary magical rituals, you are not a completed horcrux...”
“Doesn’t that mean that Harry has to die then, before Voldemort can be killed?” Hermione squeaked, her breath quickening, feeling like she might hyperventilate; she gave Harry an anguished look with her pooling eyes and grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly.
Harry swallowed, his anxiety skyrocketing. Dumbledore peered at him sadly over the top of his half-moon spectacles.
“At first,” said Dumbledore, his voice cracking, “I refused to believe it! ... It seemed most unfair that you should be faced with such a terrible burden! But as time wore on, and I considered all the possibilities, it appeared that indeed it was the only option - and it may yet be so.
“However, after consulting on the matter with Professor McGonagall, another potential option has come to light. ... I was reminded of that which makes your magic so special, Harry - your immense ability to love.
“And thus, we have come full circle. It may be possible to eventually rid you of the piece of Voldemort which resides within by using your magic against it - and by allowing your flowering relationship with Miss Granger to flourish, unhindered, to strengthen your magic even further. Professor McGonagall and I are continuing to investigate this possibility, and we shall not rest until we have come up with a solution...”
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Yuletide Blessing in Disguise