Harry Potter: The Making of a Dark Lord

Since the Daily Prophet's article had made Harry's disappearance public, Hogwarts had been a gigantic rumor mill. Dumbledore's dismissal from the position of Chief Warlock had only increased the absurd speculations. Everyone seemed to have a theory about what was happening, and the most popular one had just been expressed by Seamus. Harry's surly personality for the past month certainly hadn't endeared him to the rest of the castle.

Only a tiny handful dared to wonder if Harry had been telling the truth about Voldemort's return. The rest gleefully debated the newest gossip in the hallways and during classes, earning the wrath of Umbridge and Snape. The pair was more forbidding than ever, and had taken to assigning detention to people who giggled or whispered in the hallways, regardless of whether the topic was Harry's disappearance.

"Shut it, Seamus," Ron snapped. "Like I said to these gits, I have nothing to say about it. Take it up with the Headmaster," he said with finality, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Fred," said George seriously, "I think our dear little brother needs to learn a little humility; he's really not getting on well with others these days. I think perhaps we should just leave him like this, don't you?"

"Oh, quite," responded Fred, smirking. "And I think his new quidditch broom needs a little, ah, retooling," he said, pulling the broom from its mount on the wall.

He passed the broom to Ginny, who accepted it with a small, devious smile.

"Gin, would you mind terribly giving Ronnie's broom the once-over? I think it may have a few nasty curses on it."

"My pleasure," said Ginny, causing Ron's face to grow a dangerous shade of red.

"If you do anything to my—," Ron began angrily, before Fred hit him in the face with a silencing spell.

"Well, I think ickle Ronniekins needs some privacy to think things over. Let us be off and grant him his space," said George, pocketing Ron's wand.

"Right you are," replied Fred, and the three Weasleys casually left the room, leaving Seamus and Dean to stare at the furiously shouting but silent Ron. Unluckily for Ron, they didn't know how to reverse the twins' sticking spell.

Hogwarts, Headmaster's Office

While Ron was lamenting his lot in life, Albus Dumbledore was lamenting the necessity of the conversation he was about to have. Amelia Bones and Algernon Croaker sat before him, having once again demanded an audience.

It was just as well, since he would have been forced to contact them soon anyway. In an effort to appear in charge, he decided to pretend that he had called this meeting. Despite his recent loss of position, he needed to be the one calling the shots, and it was vital that Bones and Croaker were convinced by his arguments.

"Amelia, Algernon," he began, "thank you for coming. This is a grave time for our world, so let us dispense with the pleasantries. You are no doubt here expecting to hear the prophecy related to Harry Potter, and I will reveal it to you. After you hear it, it is imperative that you let me explain my understanding of it, and why we must act with haste. It is only a matter of time before the Dark Lord attacks."

"Well," said Bones, slightly taken aback at Dumbledore's acquiescence, "we are in agreement on that much at least, Albus. Show us your memory of the prophecy, and then we can make plans."

Croaker eyed Dumbledore mistrustfully as he pulled out the great stone pensieve and placed it on his desk. There was already a memory swirling in the bowl, and with a magnanimous sweep of his hand the Headmaster invited them to view it.

Fawkes watched the trio curiously as they placed their faces in the huge bowl.

When the three of them returned from viewing the memory five minutes later, Croaker having insisted on watching it several times, Bones sat down in a chair and closed her eyes while Croaker hurriedly wrote down the contents of the prophecy.

"You better explain yourself, Albus," Croaker began threateningly, "or we may just see how good a fighter you truly are. Why did you not report this prophecy to the Dept. of Mysteries when it was made? And why the bloody hell are you trying to get Potter get killed? We should be protecting him and training him, for Merlin's sake!"

Dumbledore held up a placating hand. "I shall explain, Algernon. Remain patient. First, I did not report the prophecy because I did not want it to become public knowledge. You would have created a prophecy sphere and studied it, and eventually word of its existence would have leaked out. That would have been a mistake," he said cautiously.

"And why would that be, Albus?" asked Croaker evenly, his tone belied by the flashing of his eyes.

Dumbledore eyed the both of them for a moment, then sat down in his throne-like chair.

"Algernon, Amelia, try to remember what things were like when this prophecy was made. We were in the midst of a terrible war, and the Ministry had been unable to stop the spread of Voldemort's poison. We were in a stalemate at best, and my attempts to end the war had not been successful."

"Then…" Dumbledore continued, frowning, "then there was a prophecy which said that our potential savior from the Dark Lord hadn't even been born yet. That was…unacceptable. We would have floundered in darkness for years, perhaps decades, waiting on a mere baby to grow powerful. Consider the cost; consider the cost," he almost whispered.

When his audience didn't respond, he continued slowly and ponderously, as if he were placing in their confidence the secrets of the universe.

"The prophecy seemed to be preventing me from defeating Voldemort. But neither did it guarantee a victory for us; it said only that either Harry or the Dark Lord must die at the other's hands. I thought it best that the prophecy be removed from the equation, so to speak. Then we could take a free hand in finally eliminating the threat of Voldemort."

Bones still had her eyes closed, but Croaker sensed she was trying to resist the urge to draw her wand on Dumbledore. He was having a hard time restraining his own anger, and took a deep breath to calm himself. This new revelation was more than merely troubling, and Dumbledore's confession suddenly threw a horrifying new light on many events over the last 15 years.

"I agree that the prophecy is authentic, Dumbledore," said Croaker, "despite it having come from that fruitcake. But tell me this: when precisely was it made?"

An uncomfortable silence was the only response.

Bones finally looked up, her eyes watering but betraying outrage rather than sadness. "Potter hadn't even been born yet, Dumbledore. That means…what have you done, Albus?" she whispered, her gaze boring into Dumbledore.

.....

Want to read ahead by more than 60 chapters. Then join my p@treon Right Now.

Link: p*atreon.com/BookReaderBoy (Remove the *)

Also Free members get 2 advanced chapters for Free as well.