Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Professor Monroe	By : Athey1024 Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Slash - Male/Male Views: 15724 -:- Recommendations : 8 -:- Currently Reading : 25
Disclaimer: I am not J. K. Rowling. I do not own Harry Potter. This is a work of fanfiction and no profit is being made. It is a for-fun endeavor and no infringement is intended.

Chapter List
- 12
- 13
- 14
Friday evening arrived before he even knew what had happened and Harry found himself walking towards the locker rooms, clutching his Firebolt in one hand and glancing furtively over at Ron who was pale and looked about ready to pass out or get sick all over the ground. The twins were walking right in front of them and the four entered the Gryffindor men's half of the locker room and quickly got changed and ready. Ron didn't say a word the whole time, even when Fred and George, and even Harry, said various things to draw him out – attempting vainly to distract the teen from his nerves.

The four Gryffindors then joined the girls just out front of the locker rooms and Angelina gave her pep talk. She wasn't quite as intense as Oliver had been, but that really only meant she wasn't nearly as scary. Olly could get a bit terrifying at times, if Harry were being honest with himself. Angelina was a good balance of encouraging and determined and Harry grinned in approval when she concluded her talk.

He looked over and his grin fell slightly as he saw that Ron still looked about ready to pass out. He heaved a sigh, tried to give one last word of encouragement and followed along with the rest of the team out to the pitch.

The game quickly got underway once both teams were on the pitch and Harry focused on his search for the snitch, occasionally letting his awareness slip to the rest of the field to check on the score and to glare in annoyance at the Slytherin stands where a significant block of students had taken up the task of yelling out catcalls and various insults to Ron. Obviously Malfoy and his teammates had pegged Ron and his nerves as Gryffindor's largest weakness and were trying to exploit it to their fullest.

Judging by the ever rising score on the Slytherin side, their taunts were unfortunately having an effect and Harry redoubled his efforts to find the snitch.

A cheer from the Gryffindor side caught Harry's attention and he glanced over to see a rather triumphant looking Ron holding the Quaffle before tossing it back out towards Katie Bell and back into play. Harry turned his attention back to his search, but he was relieved that Ron had managed to block a shot. The only thing that held him back was his nerves and a little success was all he needed to start performing better.

Malfoy's focus seemed split between taunting Ron and his search for the snitch, so Harry considered it paramount that he remain more focused on his own task. The score kept changing with the Slytherin's maintaining at least a ten or twenty point lead, but never much more than that.

There were a couple times when Harry caught he caught sight of a glint of gold the the little ball seemed determined to evade his sight. Suddenly Malfoy took a dive off towards the Hufflepuff stands and Harry instantly turned in chase, even though he hadn't yet seen anything and knew it could be a feint.

Unfortunately, it wasn't. Harry saw the snitch zig-zagging its way several meters ahead of Malfoy and pushed at his broom to try and catch up. He and Malfoy engaged in quite a lengthy chase at that point – swooping in and out of the goal posts, all the way around the pitch – up and down. That snitch was absolutely dedicated to alluding them, and after the two of them nearly collided with each other at one point, the ball did just that. It vanished from sight and Malfoy spent a good two minutes cussing Harry out.

Harry heaved a deep breath – relieved that Malfoy hadn't gotten the snitch, but annoyed that it had now disappeared again. He looked back up at the score and felt as if a huge heavy stone had just fallen to the base of his gut. Slytherin was in the lead by 130 points. Ron looked absolutely miserable – literally green, and Harry nearly moaned out loud with frustration.

He had to find that ruddy snitch, and fast. If Slytherin made just three more goals, it wouldn't matter if Harry caught the snitch or not – Slytherin would still win.

Slytherin made two more goals, and Gryffindor three, before Harry finally spotted the snitch again. It was hovering near the ground by the Ravenclaw stands and Malfoy had not yet noticed it!

Harry began to fly in that direction trying to make it look like he was still just searching, and not that he'd already spotted anything. Malfoy was over by the Gryffindor goals, and seemed intent in his own search. Harry was half way across the pitch – and definitely the closer of the two of them, when a section of the Slytherin stands apparently realized what Harry was doing and where he was heading. They'd spotted the snitch, and their calls drew in Malfoy's attention. The second that it was clear Malfoy was now aware of the snitch's almost stationary position over by the Ravenclaw stands, Harry took off like a bullet. Malfoy did much the same, but Harry had a lead on him by half a pitch's length.

The snitch took off too, and Harry had to start a rather nerve wracking chase – especially when the damned golden ball doubled back in Malfoy's direction, requiring Harry to do a sharp hair-pin turn and head for a collision course with Malfoy.

It was like some crazed game of chicken, with the two of them heading right for each other. Harry stretched his hand out, mere inches from the speeding golden ball while Malfoy flattened himself to his broom trying to catch up to them and get the ball first.

Just when Harry was almost sure that he and Malfoy would just collide, a bludger came out of nowhere and clipped the end of Malfoy's broom, sending him spiraling out of control for a minute, just as Harry's hand clasped around the snitch, bringing the end to the game.

It would turn out later that Fred had been the one to send the bludger Malfoy's way, and Harry would also later hear that Malfoy would spend quite a bit of time chewing out Crabbe and Goyle for their utter failure at protecting him from the evil ginger twins.

But none of that really mattered right now because right now Harry was holding the snitch into the air, triumphantly, and the crowd was roaring.

As Harry guided his broom back down towards the center of the pitch where the rest of his teammates were gathering, his eyes traveled over to the teacher's box and found Professor Monroe looking right at him, grinning and clapping along with most of the others there. Not Snape, of course – he was looking sour-faced as ever, but that really only made Harry feel smug. Harry grinned back widely at Maximilian before turning back and meeting up with his team mates.

The party in the Gryffindor common room waged on into the wee hours of the night. Harry had called it a night shortly before midnight – he did have some rather important things going on the next morning, after all – and managed to slip into bed shortly thereafter. The exhaustion from the game and the party were fortunately enough to knock him out, despite the nerves threatening to build in his chest at the thought that tomorrow he'd be hearing the prophecy that had basically doomed him to a miserable childhood as an orphan. But no matter the nerves, this was something he had to do. He had to know.

–

Harry woke early the next morning, just after six o'clock, and slipped from the boys dorm after quietly going through his morning routine. He rather doubted that any of his dorm mates would be up any earlier than ten, and Ron especially, was likely to have a nice long lie in until noon. Just the same, Harry still closed his hangings before leaving.

He made his way through the deserted halls and knocked gently on Maximilian's office door. A moment later it was pulled open to reveal the man that had single-handedly turned Harry's world on it's head. Despite the disruption, Harry couldn't be more thankful of that fact. He quickly entered the office with the door being closed quietly behind him.

Harry turned to face the elder wizard and was caught off guard as Maximilian stepped right up to him, leaned his head down, and pressed his lips gently against Harry's lips. Harry was stunned for nearly half a second before he felt himself melting into the contact and leaning in to press his lips more firmly against the other's.

Too soon for Harry, Maximilian had pulled back and smiled down at him. “Are you ready for this?” he asked gently.

Harry remembered what it was he was going to be doing – and seeing – today, and his nerves surged forth again, but less intense than before as he felt a low pleasant hum still lingering from the kiss.

“Er, yeah,” Harry said nervously and nodded.

“I've already made arrangements with Mr. Jennings office. He'll be expecting the two of us to floo into his office and said he'd be the only one there at this hour, so there's no chance of you being seen outside of the school by anyone who might compromise your activities.”

“Oh, good,” Harry said, still feeling a bit off kilter by what he was going to be doing today. It was one thing to sneak out into Hogsmeade under his cloak during an actual Hogsmeade weekend, but this would be sneaking out of to go to London. And not just London, but the Ministry building.

“From Jennings' office you'll be flooing into the private office of one of the Unspeakables at the Ministry. Being a Saturday and as early as it is, few people will be in the Ministry, but it's still safer to keep your travel through the open building as limited as possible. There are no public floos that go directly into the Department of Mysteries, but Jennings tells me that the floo you'll be flooing into is just down the hall from the entrance,” Maximilian went on explaining, and turned to lead Harry through the office towards the large hearth.

They came to a stop in front of the Floo and Harry found his eyes trained on the lowly burning yellow-orange flames and felt his heart beat racing slightly in his chest. He wasn't sure what he was so nervous and apprehensive about. He supposed that, more than anything, he was afraid of what the Prophecy would say. His head was filled with fears of this or that – and he knew it was probably the 'unknown' that was scaring him the most right now and the only way to get over that was to find out what the thing actually said.

“Well, shall we?” Maximilian asked gently, as he tossed a handful of floo powder into the fire and turning the flames green. He looked at Harry and offered his hand out, questioningly.

Harry swallowed, looked back up at the older wizard and nodded his head.

He put his hand in Maximilian's outstretched one and a moment later found himself pulled in and completely wrapped up in the elder wizard's arms. A whoosh of breath escaped Harry in a sigh as he felt his body relax instantly. He was better at preventing their contact from making him totally incoherent, but the man's touch still effected him.

“Don't say anything, just let me call out the destination,” Maximilian said as he guided them to stand in the large hearth. The magical green flames did nothing as they stood in them and Harry opted to close his eyes and succumb to his instincts and just buried his face in the other man's chest while wrapping his arms tightly around Maximilian's waist.

He registered on some level, that Maximilian was calling out the destination and felt the world around him being to spin dizzily, but mostly Harry was just to wrapped up in the comforting warmth of the other man's arms, that he was hardly aware of it at all. He felt the spinning stop and the two where jostled slightly, but he remained standing and still wrapped securely in the other man's arms.

A slight wave of disappointment flitted through his mind as he felt Maximilian release his grip from around Harry and pull back. Harry sighed and stepped back, opening his eyes and looking around the office he now found himself standing in. It was basically what he would expect from the office of a well-to-do solicitor – well, it would be if said solicitor was from the Victorian era.

Harry's eyes fell upon a very large mahogany desk with ornate carvings all along it's front, and then on the familiar man sitting behind it. Mr. Jennings smiled up at him and wasted little time in standing up and coming over to greet them.

Harry wasn't too surprised when it became obvious that Mr. Jennings knew Maximilian. Max had told Harry that they'd been in touch and worked out the meeting, and looking back, it was Maximilian who had first suggested Mr. Jennings and his firm, to Harry.

“Alright Harry,” Mr. Jennings said, turning his full focus on Harry, “we'll be leaving here very soon – we're on a tight schedule – and we've got a bit to cover before we leave. First we'll be flooing into the office of one of my clients, who happens to be an Unspeakable that works in the Department of Mysteries. He's doing you a considerable favor by making sure that this visit is held as covertly as possible. Just the same, it is still logged within the Department of Mysteries' records. Fortunately, very few people outside of the Department have any oversight or review rights to those records. It is highly unlikely that anyone undesirable will learn of your visit to the Department, today.”

Harry nodded, feeling mildly reassured.

“Once we are inside the Department of Mysteries, don't touch anything until you are explicitly told to. The prophecy orbs themselves are spelled so that they can only be removed and handled by the people designated to be the object of said prophecy, and by the lead of the prophetic studies division. He will be bringing the orb directly into a viewing room but you will be expected to handle it to prove that you are, in fact, the subject of the prophecy. Touch nothing else.”

“Alright, I got it,” Harry said, feeling a bit overwhelmed and nodding his head emphatically.

Jennings gave Harry a firm nod and turned back to Maximilian. “He needs to travel back through the floo with you in order to avoid any potential detection, correct?”

“That's right,” Maximilian confirmed.

“Okay, so when we're finished, I'll floo him back here to my office and you and he can go back to Hogwarts together through my floo.”

“Sounds like a plan. I've brought a book to keep myself busy.”

Harry turned to Maximilian suddenly feeling a sense of dread and mild fear. “Wait, you're not coming with?”

“Coming with? I hadn't honestly considered it. That's a tremendous amount of trust to place in my hands, Harry,” Maximilian replied, looking somewhat surprised. “And you'll only be allowed to bring one person with you into the viewing room. I assumed that if you brought anyone, you'd want to take Mr. Jennings.”

Now it was Jennings who raised his eyebrows. “Honestly, I'd rather not. I'm fine with you relaying certain pertinent details to me, Harry, if you think they'll be important to my duties in representing you and your interests, but I really would rather not know explicitly what any prophecy from the Department of Mysteries says. This one, especially. There are people out there who very much want to know what this prophecy says and I would worry about what sort of desperate measures they might go to for those goals.”

“Oh...” Harry said, feeling rather queasy and ill at the prospect of doing this alone, and also quite guilty for having wanted to do something that could put either Mr. Jennings or Maximilian in danger. He turned his eyes back on Maximilian, feeling weak for feeling so needy. “So... you'll be staying here, then?” he asked weakly.

Maximilian held his gaze for several long moments before he smiled and shook his head. “Not if you need me, Harry. I'll come. I'll even go into the viewing room with you, if that's what you want. But only if it's what you want.”

Harry felt his hope surge but he held it back hesitantly. “But – what about what Mr. Jennings said? About people wanting to know what this prophecy says? What if someone comes after you to try and get that information?” Harry's voice raised slightly with tightly bound panic at the thought.

“I'll be fine,” Maximilian said in a calmly reassuring tone and reached out to place his hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry's eyelids fluttered for a moment, but he held them open He felt his shoulders relax as the tension melted out of his muscles at Max's touch.

He sighed and nodded before looking back up at the older wizard through his eyelashes. “Then... then I'd like it if you could come,” Harry said in a quiet voice.

Maximilian smiled and nodded before turning back to Jennings. “Well, then I guess that's settled. Since we'll be together, we can leave from the Department, directly to my floo, when we're done. That way we won't have to use your floo as a stop-over.”

“Okay. Well, then gentlemen, I believe we have an appointment to get to. Shall we?”

They were told the destination's floo address and Mr. Jennings went through first; Harry second, and Maximilian last. Harry found himself in a very cluttered but spacious office that seemed to be overwhelmed mostly by towers of folders, parchments, and papers, stacked precariously about the room and clearly held upright solely through magic. There were also lots of boxes, each labeled with numbers and letters that didn't seem to mean much of anything to Harry, and accented by the occasional stack of books.

A man was standing beside a large cluttered desk, obviously having been waiting for them. He was wearing dark navy-blue robes with tight button-up sleeves along his forearms that flowered loosely just below his elbows, that reminded Harry of the sorts of sleeves that Snape's robes always had to prevent his clothing getting into his potions work. The hood on the robes was up and cast a shadow over his face that Harry realized seemed to be magically obscuring the man's face, even though the lighting in the room shouldn't cast such a dark shadow there.

“Welcome to the Ministry, Mr. Potter, Mr. Jennings,” he said, nodding his head at each and then seeming to glance questioningly at Maximilian.

“Er, this is my Defense professor, from Hogwarts. Professor Monroe.” Harry said, quickly. “I asked him to come with me. Er... is it alright if he comes with me into the viewing room?”

The man seemed to scrutinize Maximilian for a moment before turning his obscured gaze back onto Harry. “It is your prophecy. It is your choice who can and cannot bare it witness. If you wish to allow him to view it, it is your prerogative.”

Harry couldn't help but smile in relief. “Yes, that's what I want,” he said with a nod.

The unspeakable nodded and turned his focus back on Maximilian. “Do not touch the prophecy orbs,” he said simply before turning his gaze to Mr. Jennings. “Potter can only have one guest in the viewing chamber. Do you have any other reason for being here?”

“No, I just wanted to make sure that Mr. Potter was greeted properly. If my presence is no longer needed as an escort, it is probably best if I not linger in the Ministry,” Jennings replied.

“Yes. It is best. You may use my floo to leave.”

Jennings nodded and turned his gaze back on Harry. “Will you be fine from here on out?”

Harry glanced over at Maximilian before looking back at his solicitor and nodding. “I'll be fine.”

“Okay, good. I leave him in your care, then,” he said the last bit to Maximilian who nodded earnestly.

Jennings then turned back to the large hearth, called out the address to his office and departed in a flash of green flames.

“I believe we are all set then?” the Unspeakable stated more than asked and then walked around his desk and opened the door, clearly not waiting for any sort of reply. “Come along. Your time here is limited.”

The Unspeakable guided them down a long, windowless and featureless hallway and Harry quickly spotted a familiar black door at the end of it. They were led inside in silence and then the man motioned for them to come to a stop in the circular shaped room. Harry looked around for the briefest moment – just long enough to see that it was a large circular room with a number of identical, unmarked doors, around the outside, evenly spaced – when suddenly the outer wall began to spin rather frantically, leaving Harry feeling terribly dizzy and disoriented.

Then it stopped.

Harry made to open his mouth and ask what all that was about, but the Unspeakable was already on the move again, striding confidently over to one of the doors and pulling it open.

Beyond was a long, gray, windowless hallway lined with doors – all unmarked – along each side. They walked down the hall towards the end before the Unspeakable stopped at one of the doors and pulled it open. He motioned Harry and Maximilian inside and then followed behind them.

The room was much like the hall they'd come from – gray walls, plain slate floor, no windows. It's only feature was a large circular table in the center of the room with two charms along one side.

“Sit,” the Unspeakable said shortly. Harry thought the man rather rude, but tried to ignore it and went over to sit in one of the chairs; Maximilian by his side the whole time. “The lead of the Lead of the Prophetic Studies Division will be by shortly – you will have to wait for him, he's a very busy man and is taking time out of his work schedule to assist you in this. He's the only one who can remove the prophecies from their placement in the hall besides the subjects of the prophecies, themselves.”

“I'm curious why you don't just have Harry go in and remove the prophecy, then?” Maximilian asked lightly, eyeing the man with some level of curious scrutiny.

The man eyed Maximilian back for several long seconds. “The Hall of Prophecy is a vast space filled with many sensitive objects of considerable import. We would also have to pass through one of two other halls in order to get that far, and both of those rooms also contain many important, dangerous, and irreplaceable objects. Mr. Potter has been cleared to see any prophecy pertaining to him, personally, but he has not been cleared to see any other part of the Department. And neither have you.”

“Perfectly understandable,” Maximilian said with a simple, accepting nod of his head.

The Unspeakable gave a curt jerk of his head before leaving the room and closing the door behind him.

Harry heaved a sigh several seconds later and took a moment to examine the room again. There was a circular object in the center of the table. Like a low, wide bowl that sat on a short pedestal. In the center of the bowl was a raised bit, almost like a cup with a wide lip. There were runes of some sort carved all around the outside and Harry was reminded vaguely of Dumbledore's pensive, only obviously quite different.

The two remained in silence for quite some time after that, as they waited. Maximilian did reach over after only a couple minutes and begin rubbing soothing circles into Harry's shoulders and back, drastically reducing the tension Harry felt waring away at his nerves.

After what seemed like a ridiculously long time considering they'd been told that their time here was supposedly limited, the door clicked and slowly swung open. Harry felt his body tense and his eyes trained on the space as a heavily cloaked figure with a magically obscured face walked in with a black lacquered chest floating in the air in front of him.

The box floated across the room and settled onto the end of the round table opposite where Harry and Maximilian were sitting. The wizard followed behind it, closing the door behind him and taking a seat in the one remaining chair around the table. He opened the box and turned it around so that it faced Harry and Maximilian's side of the table.

Harry realized he'd been holding his breath ever since the man had entered the room, and took a breath as he frowned across at the lacquered box. Inside were two opalescent orbs of spun glass that seemed to be filled with swirling mist. Each orb had a tag attached to them and Harry leaned forward and squinted to try and read the small writing on them.

“You must remove the prophecy from the box and place it in the Prospiceres,” the man said, speaking for the first time and causing Harry to flinch with the sudden and unexpected interruption to the heavy silence that had filled the room.

Harry stood jerkily, looking at the man questioningly for a moment before he got a nod of affirmation. Harry moved the rest of the way and leaned across the table towards the box. His hand hesitated mid-air as he wasn't sure which of the two orbs he was supposed to grab. Was this some sort of test? Wasn't something horrible supposed to happen if you touched one of these orbs that wasn't about you?

“This one,” the man said pointing at the one on the left. Harry blinked, still confused and wondering why the man had brought two of these orbs at all, but shook his head deciding it wasn't important at the moment and instead focused on the prophecy orb to the left-side of the box.

He could read the tag now that he was closer, although he wasn't entirely sure what it meant.

S. P. T to A. P. W. B. D

Dark Lord

and (?) Harry Potter

“Uh, what exactly does the tag mean?” Harry asked as his hand hovered above the box.

“The first line holds the initials are of the Seer who made the prophecy and the individual who witnessed the telling of the prophecy,” the man said and Harry noted that his voice was rather low and hoarse, as if he didn't speak aloud all that often. His mind pulled away from this thought rather quickly though when it registered instead who the second set of initials obviously belonged to.

“So Dumbledore really did witness it,” Harry muttered to himself somewhat bitterly. Finally he huffed out a breath of air and just grabbed the glowing ball. He paused, holding it mid-air and waiting to see if anything awful was about to happen. When nothing did, he sighed and placed the orb in the center of the rune-etched bowl.

“Sit,” the Unspeakable said impatiently and Harry quickly shifted back to his seat, feeling his nerves bubbling away in his gut, quite frantically now.

The Unspeakable waited another moment but then reached out with his wand in hand and tapped it on the edge of the bowl. The ball glowed brighter and seemed to pulse for a few seconds before a cone of light shot up out of the orb and bowl projecting a three-dimensional image into the air above the circular table.

Harry nearly choked when he recognized the face of his hack divination professor, Trelawney, staring owlishly into the empty space before her. She was clearly younger, but hadn't really changed much over the years as far as Harry could see.

Her eyes took on a vacant, unfocused look and her head lulled slightly to the side before she suddenly began to speak in a low almost other-worldly voice. It sent a chill down Harry's spine, as he'd heard that voice coming from his divination professor, once before. The night at the end of third year, she had spoken in that voice when she had foretold that Pettigrew would escape and return to Voldemort.

"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...” she spoke and Harry felt his heart racing in his chest.

“And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but it will be a gift the Dark Lord knows of, naught... and one will be destroyed by the hand of the other for neither can live while the other only survives. The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies...”

Her head jerked and dipped before coming back up and she blinked in apparent disorientation. She opened her mouth as if to say something else, but before anything came out the image faded away into little more than mist and the orb dimmed back down to a gentle glow.

Harry felt as if he were about to hyperventilate. His mind was far too overwhelmed and he realized he wasn't even sure what exactly had been said. His mind had just latched onto bits and pieces that stuck out and the rest was instantly dissolved into a blur.

“I – wait, what? I – can I hear it again? I didn't really catch it all,” Harry asked apologetically and trying to quell the panic swelling in his chest like a building tsunami.

“I can recite it, Harry,” Maximilian said and Harry glanced over at him with relieved gratitude on his face. It blanked a moment later to be replaced with confusion as Harry took in Maximilian's expression. He'd never seen the man's pale blue eyes look so wide and elated. It was as if they were alight with an almost manic delight and his whole face was swept up in the tightly bound emotion.

“Max...?” Harry began hesitantly, not even sure what he meant to say.

“It began 'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches.' When was the prophecy foretold, exactly?” he said, then asking the Unspeakable.

The man waved his wand over the orb and then seemed to read off something from above the orb that only he could see. “January of 1980,” he replied in a bored monotone.

Maximilian nodded and the corner of his lips twitched – it almost seemed as if he were attempting to hold back some sort of manic glee that was too powerful to be bound. Harry didn't know what to make of it.

“Yes, that sounds right. The next part went 'Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies.' That denoted who the parents of the prophesied vanquisher were – that they were people who had defied the Dark Lord on three different occasions. Then it said that the vanquisher would be born at the end of the seventh month – July.”

Harry nodded his head rather numbly.

“So... so my parents had defied him on three seperate times? That's how it was determined that this thing is supposed to be about me?”

“Yes, both of your parents were active in the Order of the Phoenix,” Maximilian said almost absently. “They went on raids together, and on three separate occasions, took part in battles where Voldemort was present, fought against his forces, and yet managed to escape alive.”

Harry nodded numbly, feeling rather dreadful. “And the next part?”

“And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but it will be a gift the Dark Lord knows of, naught,” Maximilian recited from memory in a slow voice. His lips pressed together into a thin smile after that.

“But what does that mean?” Harry asked in bewilderment. “In what way has he marked me as his equal? What gift is he supposed to have given me, but not know? That doesn't make sense.”

“Oh... I think it makes a great deal of sense,” Maximilian mused quietly. “The first bit is two parts – you were marked physically, yes – your scar – but there was something else gifted to you that made you equal to the Dark Lord in a far more obscure way, and I can say with some certainty that he was entirely unaware of what he had done...”

“What?” Harry asked, sitting up and feeling that dread building again.

Maximilian turned his gaze sharply back on Harry and paused a moment. “We should not discuss it here. We will analyze this line further when we are back at the school.”

Harry sagged with slight frustration but nodded his head in concession. It was the next part that he was most wary of. “And the line after that?” Harry asked, already grimacing.

“And one will be destroyed by the hand of the other for neither can live while the other only survives,” Maximilian recited.

Harry felt himself pale and a sweat break out on his forehead and the back of his neck. This... this couldn't be happening. It just wasn't possible. How could anyone honestly expect that Harry might somehow have a power that made him Voldemort's equal, and seriously expect Harry to be the one to destroy Voldemort? It just wasn't possible! It was like Harry's own death certificate had been signed and laid out before him. One of them had to die by the hand of the other, and Harry rather seriously doubted his chances in being the victor in that fight. He was doomed.

“You have a way to tell if a prophecy is fulfilled, don't you?” Maximilian was asking the Unspeakable and Harry's head jerked up to look at the wizard with confusion. He couldn't imagine why Maximilian would even ask a question like that.

The Unspeakable nodded. “We do.”

“And when it was fulfilled, yes?”

“Correct.”

“Well?” he asked sounding slightly impatient. The Unspeakable seemed to heave another impatient breath and once again waved his wand over the orb making some sort of magical report appear that only he could see.

“This prophecy is fulfilled. What is foretold within it has already come to pass.”

“What?!” Harry said, feeling utterly bewildered. “But that's not possible! Voldemort is alive, I saw him. He was definitely still alive back in June and I most certainly haven't destroyed him by hand since then.”

“When was this prophecy marked as fulfilled?” Maximilian asked eagerly, leaning forward slightly in his seat.

Harry looked over at him, even more confused than ever. It almost seemed as if Maximilian had already seen all this coming and was just asking to confirm his own ideas.

“It was marked as fulfilled May 29th of 1993,” the Unspeakable replied in a bored tone.

Harry felt himself flinch in bewildered shock.

“1993?” Harry echoed incredulously. “But, Voldemort wasn't even...” Harry trailed off and frowned as he tried to remember what was going on in the spring of 1993. That was the spring of his second year. He started his third year in the fall, but in May he was still in second year.

May 29^th... that sounded like the right time for when Harry went down into the Chamber of Secrets.

“That was when I went down into the Chamber,” Harry murmured under his breath, staring with unfocused eyes at the dimly glowing prophecy in the bowl before him.

“I believe you destroyed two things, by hand that day,” Maximilian mused calmly.

Harry looked up at him, his eyes focusing slightly but remaining confused. “Huh?”

“You killed the Basilisk, of course, but there was something else you destroyed while down there... wasn't there?” he asked in the way a teacher asks a pupil a question in order to lead them to the correct answer to a puzzle.

“Tom Riddle's diary,” Harry whispered with some level of dawning. But it still didn't really make sense. How could destroying that book have anything to do with 'Vanquishing the Dark Lord?'

Maximilian grinned slightly and nodded his head. “It will make sense, someday Harry. I can see it perfectly in my mind... the prophecy is crystal clear to me now, and it most certainly is fulfilled. You are no longer bound by these words. They are over and done with.”

“But Voldemort is still alive,” Harry argued, still very confused.

“Perhaps, but prophecies can often be very literal, but tricky, things. It never said you had to kill Voldemort. It said that you would destroy the Dark Lord. Those two things do not necessarily have to mean the same thing.”

“How could putting a basilisk fang through a book, destroy the Dark Lord?” Harry asked, incredulously.

Maximilian just grinned back at him knowingly, and Harry felt mildly annoyed to feel so out of the loop on this, when it was obviously a big deal that pertained quite specifically to him.

“The point, Harry, is that it did. In some way – the way that actually mattered to this prophecy, your actions supposedly destroyed the Dark Lord. What was left behind? I suppose we do not truly know at this point, but as far as the magic of this prophecy is concerned, he is no longer the Dark Lord that you were prophesied to vanquish. You're part in this play has been concluded. No matter what expectations people like Dumbledore might still hold, you are not responsible for doing anything further. And you already... won, per se. You were the one who destroyed the Dark Lord, so he will not be the one destroying you. Do you see?”

Harry nodded his head very slowly, and just as slowly, the vice-like dread in his chest began to loosen. He knew he couldn't reasonably doubt Maximilian's words since it was the Unspeakable sitting at the table with them who had said the prophecy was fulfilled. And seeing as how Harry was clearly still alive, he apparently had 'won'. It just didn't seem... real.

“Are you ready for the next one?” the Unspeakable asked suddenly, drawing both of their attention back to him.

“Next one?”
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Professor Monroe