The Twilight Saga

What happens when Edward Cullen has changed the course of history? By entering the Goblet of Fire (in Cullens go to Hogwarts) he has saved the life of Cedric Diggory... What will Cedric do with this second chance of life? Unable to simply stand by he feels compelled to become a Member of the Order of the Phonix and return to Forks with the Cullens on a special mission.


Set during both Breaking Dawn and Order of the Phoenix, Dawn of the Phoenix watches Cedric rise from the ashes become a critical force in the fight against He Who Shall Not Be Named.


This story is set after Cullens go to Hogwarts. If you haven't read that, you might want to before reading Dawn of the Phoenix. And, after you've read this, you can check out the third story in the series: The Half-Blood Vampire

Banner by Leesa



** Cullens and other Twilight Characters belong to Stephenie Meyer **

** Wizards and other Harry Potter characters belong to JK Rowling **

** Storyline loosely follows 'Breaking Dawn' by Stephenie Meyer and 'Order of the Phoenix' by JK Rowling

** Story Adaptation by Erica Bailey


Other Fan Fictions by Erica


Actors Hooked on Fan Fiction - Rob, Kristen and the gang get into Fan Fiction & the beginning of Cullens go to Hogwarts

Cullens go to Hogwarts - The Prequel to Dawn of the Phoenix

First Kiss EPOV

Edward Decides to Leave EPOV


In Process:

Eclipse EPOV


Dawn of the Phoenix: Viewable in Adobe (Adobe Reader is a free download - Google it)

Dawn of the Phoenix PART 1.pdf

Dawn of the Phoenix PART 2.pdf

Dawn of the Phoenix PART 3.pdf


Chapter 1: The Beginning        

Chapter 2: Unpacking

Chapter 3: Secrets

Chapter 4: Driving Lessons

Chapter 5: How Hard Could it Be?

Chapter 6: Visitors

Chapter 7: The Driving Exam from... Carlisle

Chapter 8: Muggle Fashion Lessons

Chapter 9: Feels Like Home

Chapter 10: Old Friends

Chapter 11: Owls

Chapter 12: 12 Grimmauld Place

Chapter 13: The Order of the Phoenix

Chapter 14: The Advance Guard

Chapter 15: Information & Discovery - Part 1

Chapter 15: Information & Discovery - Part 2

Chapter 16: Preparations Chapter 17: Ministry of Magic

Chapter 18: The Bachelor Party

Chapter 19: The Wedding

Chapter 20: The Reception

Chapter 21: The Mission Begins

Chapter 22: Welcome to Denali

Chapter 23: Introductions

Chapter 24: One Week

Chapter 25: A Day Alone

Chapter 26: Demonstrations

Chapter 27: Getting Down to Business

Chapter 28: Bloody Hell - Part 1

Chapter 28: Bloody Hell - Part 2

Chapter 29: Unraveled

Chapter 30: Reunion

Chapter 31: Departures

Chapter 32: The Longest Week

Chapter 33: The Visitor

Chapter 34: The Darkest Hour

Chapter 35: The Dawn

Chapter 36: Change of Heart

Chapter 37: Better... Much, Much Better

Chapter 38: Making the Offer

Chapter 39: Research

Chapter 40: Follow Your Heart

Chapter 41: Changes

Chapter 42: Blood, Lots and Lots of Blood

Chapter 43: Imprint

Chapter 44: Waiting

Chapter 45: New

Chapter 46: Happy Birthday

Chapter 47: Leah

Chapter 48: Favor

Chapter 49: Tough News to Swallow

Chapter 50: One Crazy Day

Chapter 51: Roughin' It

Chapter 52: Battle Scars

Chapter 53: Advice

Chapter 54: First Date

Chapter 55: Magic

Chapter 56: More Magic

Chapter 57: Another Kind of Magic

Chapter 58: The Time has Come

Chapter 59: Delays

Chapter 60: Good-byes

Chapter 61: Not Ready

Chapter 62: A Shift to the East

Chapter 63: Delayed Reactions

Chapter 64: First Fight

Chapter 65: Halifax

Chapter 66: Ireland

Chapter 67: Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow... Ya That's a Pile of Cra...

Chapter 68: Dublin

Chapter 69: A Diplomatic Mission

Chapter 70: A Return Visit

Chapter 71: Three Days

Chapter 72: Oh my, What have I gotten myself into?

Chapter 73: Cooped Up

Chapter 74: Sites and Stories of London

Chapter 75: Another Day on the Town

Chapter 76: Part 1 Lupin and Leah

Chapter 76: Part 2 Lupin and Leah (LPOV)

Chapter 77: Vampire (LPOV)

Chapter 78: Order of Business (CPOV)

Chapter 79: The Burrow and Back

Chapter 80: Snakes, Werewolves and Vampires

Chapter 81: The Season of Hope

Chapter 82: Overheard at 12 Grimmauld Place

Chapter 83: Cedric Returns to Forks EPOV

Chapter 84: Peace on Earth (CPOV)

Chapter 85: More Introductions

Chapter 86: Romanians

Chapter 87: Commitment

Chapter 88: The Calm before the Storm

Chapter 89: So it Begins

Chapter 90: The End of Diplomacy

Chapter 91: Surprises

Chapter 92: Good-byes

Chapter 93: A Proper Date

Chapter 94: Wedding Preparations

Chapter 95: Send off

Chapter 96: Alaskan Moments (PG-13)

Chapter 97: Back to Reality

Chapter 98: Visitors

Chapter 99: Moving Preparations

Chapter 100: Cullens Return to Hogwarts

Chapter 101: A Tale of a Giant, A Seductress, and A Dog

Chapter 102: Grawp

Chapter 102: Part 2

Chapter 103: Valentines Day at 12 Grimmauld Place

Chapter 104: Valentines Day in Hogsmeade

DofP Ch 105.pdf Chapter 105: Seen and Unforeseen 

DofP Ch 106.pdf Chapter 106: New Arrivals  

DofP Ch 107.pdf Chapter 107: Meanwhile  

DofP Ch 108.pdf Chapter 108: Changing of the Guard 

DofP Ch 109.pdf Chapter 109: The Freedom of Albus Dumbledore 

DofP Ch 110.pdf Chapter 110: Easter  

DofP Ch 111.pdf Chapter 111: Contact 

DofP Ch 112.pdf Chapter 112: OWLs

DofP Ch 113.pdf Chapter 113: St. Mungo's

DofP Ch 114.pdf Chapter 114: Unexplained Departures and Unexpected Arrivals

DofP Ch 115.pdf Chapter 115: The Department of Mysteries

DofP Ch 116.pdf Chapter 116: The Lost Prophecy

DofP Ch 117.pdf Chapter 117: Deja Vu

DofP Prologue.pdf Prologue: An Elf's Tale


Sequel to Dawn of the Phoenix: The Half-Blood Vampire



First Fight from Chapter 64 - EPOV

Tags: Cedric Diggory, Cedric goes to Forks, Dawn of the Phoenix, Harry Potter, Twilight

Views: 5767


Replies to This Discussion

Awww! I actually hadnt thought of it that way...I like it
Hey Nezz, I know what you mean. I think, in the end, Cedric could survive because his loss wasn't as huge an impact on the overall story. But Sirius' death was a major blow to Harry and he wouldn't have all he needed to do what he needs to do.

I think it would have been more tradgic for Tanya to survive. She would have been a shell, a bitter vampire... and who knows what would have happened with that. It could have turned nasty. This is probably best all around.
Chapter 116: The Lost Prophecy

** SETH **

I sat at the edge of my seat waiting. I’d been crouched down by the side of the couch, but thought better of it. What kind of freak sat peering into some random girls face while she slept? ‘K Seth, act natural…

Who was she? What was she doing here? And who was she? How did she get up here? And who was she?

And why am I so curious?

She mumbled and stirred.

Okay, Seth. Don’t go postal. Just sit back in your chair… should I read a book? In what lifetime would I sit in a wingback chair reading a book? Maybe I should get up… yeah, get a glass of water or something… Duh, where in the world am I going to get a glass of water? Where is that Dobby?

“Dobby?” I said tentatively. Could he hear me?

There was a popping sound and suddenly Dobby was staring at me with those large bulbous eyes. Whoa, that was cool.

“Dobby heard Seth calling and Dobby came right away. What is it Seth needs? Is Seth hungry or…”

“Listen” I cut him off. I’d learned it was better that way. “This girl – do you know who she is?”

Dobby slowly turned toward the couch where the girl was stirring. She’d be awake soon.

“Oh, no! Master Dumbledore told Dobby to keep others away from the entrance.” His head swung from side to side until he found a large book on the end table. In an instant he jumped toward it, had it in both hands and smashed it against his face repeatedly. “Dobby let Master Dumbledore down. Dobby is not earning his wages. Dobby is a very lazy, very useless house elf. How will Master Dumbledore ever trust Dobby…”

After a short tussle I had one arm around Dobby and with the other, pulled the book from his hands. “Dobby,” I said with some effort. Man this little guy was strong, “Beating yourself with a book does us no good. Tell me! What is going on?”

Dobby whimpered a little, “The entrance to Master Dumbledore’s office used to be guarded by the gargoyle.” I nodded, recalling the huge statue that moved on command to reveal the opening. “Master left it and now the entrance is unguarded. He left Dobby in charge of keeping students away from the entrance.”

“Are you telling me just anyone could wander up here?” I asked, shocked. It was a wondering someone hadn’t come up sooner – and what about that Umbridge woman?

“No, Dobby is supposed to keep others away. The entrance is hidden. Dobby used magic to make sure no one could see the entrance. Dobby thought this would be enough – that no one would actually try to walk through a solid wall. Dobby was foolish to leave it unattended…”

“Dobby, it’s just one girl.” I tried to reason with him as he struggled to hit himself with his fists. I wrapped the other arm around him to keep him still. “Speaking of which, do you know this girl? I was thinking she might need a glass of water when she wakes.”

For the first time Dobby really peered closely into the girl’s face. He brightened, “Oh yes, Dobby knows this girl. She lives near the kitchens with the Hufflepuffs. She is very nice, very nice indeed. She spoke with Dobby once when she walked in on Dobby working in their common room late at night. Dobby doesn’t work in the Hufflepuff common room often. Dobby is very busy with Gryffindor because…”

I cut him off again. “So you think she found the entrance by accident?”

“Most likely… Seth,” Dobby nodded furiously.

I thought for a moment. What would we do with her? It just occurred to me that I’d brought her into Dumbledore’s private quarters. He’d never said so much about it, but I got the sense that others didn’t know about the secret panel. “Should she be in here?”

Dobby considered that for a moment as well, “Dobby thinks that Master Dumbledore would likely help this girl, but Master Dumbledore is also very… secretive about this space. Dobby thinks it would be best to take her back to her common room.”

“C-can you do that?” I asked, not really sure I wanted him to. I still didn’t know who she was.

“Dobby can easily take her back,” he was grinning and, again, nodding furiously.

The girl shifted a little. Her breathing was much lighter. She’d be awake any second. Dobby fought against my hold and, in the moment that her movement distracted me, he jumped down and over to the couch.

“Dobby – wait,” I said as he reached her, “What is her name?”

“Kristina,” Dobby replied quickly and then, in an instant, they were gone.

** CEDRIC **

Every part of me ached. Every limb, every muscle, every bone… but more then that, my heart heaved with pain.

Sirius gone… he’d been a mentor to me all those months in Forks, when I was first learning to cope in the muggle world. He’d been there, an anchor to my past, to who I am when I’d felt so alone.

And Tanya. Despite our differences, I cared for her. And she’d seemed happy. How would I tell her family? Did the Cullens know? They were at the Ministry, but there had been no time. Dumbledore wanted them out of there before anyone had noticed.

How’d he done that? His voice had been suddenly in my head. Shield them.. it had said keep them secret… and we had.

A warm arm wrapped itself around me. Moisture dampened my shoulder. I reached up and brushed Leah’s cheek. She didn’t make a sound, but the grief shook her as she tried to comfort me. I looked into her eyes, wise beyond her years. She reached up and traced under my eyes. Pulling her finger away, I realized I was crying too.

“I c-can’t believe they’re gone.” She whispered.

“I know.”

I wrapped myself around her and we simply held each other – together in our sorrow, in this house that now seemed cold and foreign.

We didn’t have a lot of time. Dumbledore wanted us back at Hogwarts. He’d given us twenty minutes “to get cleaned up” he said. I think he knew we needed at least this – the chance to release the pressure that had been building.

After a few moments, Leah’s shaking subsided. With a sigh, she drew back, the stronger of us both. “I’m going to go wash my face, then I’ll be ready to go,” she said rubbing my back, searching my eyes to see that I was okay.

I nodded, “Sure… good idea…” I answered automatically.

“Go and grab some bread and cheese,” she said. “I think we’re going to need it. It’s going to be a long night.”

It had already been a long night and I was in no mood to eat, but I followed her direction. My body automatically pulled me from the wooden table and chair where we’d collapsed upon our arrival by floo powder. My legs carried me to the ice box. I rummaged around, putting together a quick meal of a few slices of bread, cheese and I threw in some fruit. I looked over the measly gathering of nutrients. I could do better then this for Leah.

My mind welcomed the reprieve as I quickly summoned the frying pan and magically lit the stove. In a few minutes, I had grilled bacon and cheese sandwiches, and added pickles and a couple apples. I knew Leah would appreciate the addition of the meat. I smiled as I anticipated her reaction. Then I caught myself. How could I smile?

“Mmm, smells good,” She said, returning. “Here.” She handed me a warm cloth. I quickly wiped the sweat and dirt of the night from my face as she downed one of the sandwiches.

“Eat this,” she said handing me the other. I did so automatically, not really tasting the meal. But it felt good in my stomach and I now felt a little more alive. Leah tossed me an apple and led us to the object Dumbledore had set on the table before he’d disapparated – a finger from one of the statues in the Ministry of Magic. Only fifteen minutes had passed. It felt like an eternity. Wordlessly, we reached for the finger and felt pulled from our midsection, taking us to Hogwarts.

** EDWARD **

Dumbledore’s living room welcomed our return. We were back at the castle, in his private quarters off his office. Seth startled at our arrival.

“Oh – it’s you.” He said. I thought Dobby was bringing her back… The image of a girl flashed through his mind, followed with a series of wonderings about her, how she was, who she was… He was quite intrigued, but we didn’t have time for that right now.

Bella’s strong arms were clasped around me, unaware of her newborn strength. I ignored the pain of her embrace and rubbed her back. My eyes prickled wishing they could cry. I could hear the pained thoughts of my family around me.

Seth was on his feet, alert to the morose atmosphere around us.

“Sirius was killed.” I answered his unasked question.

I watched as at first disbelief clouded his features. Then shock and pain. He fell back into his seat, his hands holding his head. “No.” Several minutes passed before he looked back up, “How?”

But the explanation would have to wait for just then there was a popping as Carlisle, Esme, Jacob, Rosalie and Renesmee materialized in the now crowded living room.

“Mommy?” Renesmee bounded up into our arms, her hand flashing to Bella’s face, showing us our faces, questioning why we were also so sad.

Something has happened. Carlisle glanced at me. I discreetly nodded. He, patient as ever, waited as he drew Esme to his side. Without speech or thought she knew as well that whatever was to be shared would be painful.

“What happened? Someone loose their best friend?” Jacob asked.

“Jake.” Seth started.

“What?” he replied looking around at each of us.

“Jake, sit down.” Seth said.

Speechlessly, he took a seat on the couch, looking from face to face for some answers.

Bella took a big breath, taking it on herself to deliver the blow. “There was a battle at the Ministry tonight.”

“Yeah, we know,” Jacob replied.

“Well, not everyone made it…” she hedged.

Not that Potter kid… Jacob worried.

“We don’t know exactly what happened. We weren’t there for that part. All we know is… Sirius was killed.”

Jacob shook his head. No, I didn’t hear that right.

To my far right, Esme gasped. Then she turned to Carlisle and let out a wail. I’d never heard my mother cry. Seen her shaking in pain, but the sound of her heart breaking, broke mine. Carlisle’s pain was more contained, but nonetheless powerful and Jasper cringed as he took it all in.

“Wait, that can’t be right,” Jacob was now on his feet, shaking in anger, “No – I don’t believe it. How can that…”

“Jake…” Bella reached to comfort him.

I automatically tightened my grasp on her arm, “He’s not in control.”

“Like that’s going to matter,” she hissed, wrenching her arm from my grasp. But Renesmee beat her to it. She hopped from our arms in the short struggle and was now wrapping her arms around Jacob. In a strange reversal of roles, she comforted him as realization hit him hard.

“Sorry,” Bella whispered.

I kissed her forehead in return. Now was not the time to discuss how her rejection stung.

We’d been in the room for twenty-two minutes when Cedric and Leah arrived by Portkey.

“Perhaps you can shed some light on this,” Jasper suggested as he struggled beneath the heavy weight of mourning. “How did Sirius die?”

He looked around the room, clinging to Leah as he took in a staggered breath. How do I tell them… “He was battling Bellatrix,” he started hesitantly as if he was afraid to continue, “I didn’t see it happen, but Bellatrix hit him with something… and he disappeared behind the curtain…” He glanced down while the following image shattered my carefully controlled demeanor. Jasper didn’t even have time to react as the pain wrenched through me and a guttural growl ripped from my chest.

I didn’t hear his admission, the news of Tanya’s passing as he shared it with my family. I could barely keep the flood of nearly a century of perfected memories – the day I met Tanya… how we’d bantered back and forth, my hard-edged morality and her free spirited sensuality… how I’d awkwardly avoided her advances, while at the same time appreciating her friendship. I’d never been able to give her what she wanted, but she was a friend… she was family.

“How?” Esme whispered when she found her voice. I realized she was on the floor, not far from where I was now on my knees, Bella’s strong arm around me. She was similarly comforting me as Carlisle was comforting Esme. It was a hard blow for all of us.

Cedric paused. I saw our combined reaction reflected in his memory. He wasn’t sure if he should go on. Carlisle rose from his place at Esme’s side to clamp a comforting arm around Cedric’s shoulder. “It’s okay. It’s better we know. It will help.”

He took some comfort in that and spoke, “I – ah – this might sound strange, but I think she died when Sirius…” he could put it to words. “When she saw him…”

“I’m sorry, but what?” Rosalie huffed.

Cedric glanced from her to me. “I can’t be sure. I didn’t think your kind died that way… Maybe I should back up. Tanya and Sirius, they were quite attached. I’m sure you realized this before they left.”

I glanced at Carlisle. Certainly she’d taken him as a… partner. It seemed to be a mutually beneficial relationship.

Cedric didn’t miss the exchange. “I’m not sure when things changed for them. I asked Sirius once. I was worried about Tanya – about her getting hurt. They both spoke casually about their relationship but, I think… I think it was more then what they said. I think they were… connected somehow. These last few months, they were both happy in a way I hadn’t ever seen before…”

A series of memories flashed through his hazy mind. Had they mated? Was that possible? I hadn’t ever considered Tanya capable of that sort of commitment.

“So, when Sirius… well, when he passed through the curtain, Tanya just… sort of gave up. It was as if she died right then and there. When Bellatrix hit her, she was already gone. Only her body was left…”

I remembered that feeling – the day I got the news Bella was dead. I died that day – there was no other word for it. Sure, my body continued to exist. Maybe, on some level it knew the message was a lie. Still, the ending of my existence was simply a formality. My life was already over – only to be reborn again when Bella’s body flew into mine in Voltaire.

“I think I understand,” I said slowly, tightening my grasp on Bella and kissing her forehead.

Wow – Tanya and Sirius… Who knew? Emmett shook his head.

“At least they found happiness.” Carlisle said softly. He was careful to keep a tight rein on his pain, mindful of Jasper’s already tenuous hold on the strong emotions in the small room. Later, when he was alone, when he could, he would allow for his own release.

A noise in the next room alerted us to another’s presence. Harry, I confirmed. He’d arrived in Dumbledore’s office not long after we had, but somehow in the midst of everything, I hadn’t noticed him.

I noticed him now – the overwhelming grief and guilt. If I hadn’t been such an idiot… played the hero… He blamed himself for Sirius’s death.

The portraits were stirring, as if from a long sleep. The only alert one among them, Phineas was sneering down at Harry’s presence while the others chattered amongst themselves.

The fireplace burst into green flame as Dumbledore arrived. The room around me drew silent as all but Cedric would easily hear the crackle of the fire and the cheers of welcome.

“Thank you,” Dumbledore said softly. He immediately strode to the perch that usually held his beloved Fawkes. He drew, from his robes, the body of a small, featherless, bird and placed it in the ashes before turning to Harry.

“Do you want me to tell you what is going on?” Leah whispered to Cedric.

“No,” he shook his head, “I can hear…”

“Well, Harry,” Dumbledore started from the room next to ours. “you will be pleased to hear that none of your fellow students are going to suffer lasting damage from the night’s events.”

Good. The sentiment couldn’t quite make it to Harry’s lips as more waves of guilt fell over him as he took upon himself the added baggage of his friend’s pain.

“Madam Pomfrey is patching everybody up. Nymphadora Tonks may need to spend a little time in St Mungos, but it seems she will make a full recovery.”

Harry simply nodded.

“I know how you’re feeling, Harry,” Dumbledore said very kindly.

“No, you don’t.” Harry yelled – the guilt and pain fueling and anger the welled up like a forest fire of dry tinder under a spark.

“You see, Dumbledore?” Phineas said slyly, “Never try to understand the students. They hate it. They would much rather be tragically misunderstood, wallow in self-pity, stew in their own-”

“That’s enough, Phineas,” Dumbledore interrupted.

Harry drew away and gazed out the window toward the Quidditch patch. A memory flashed to mind: The day Sirius had watched his game, disguised in his dog form. He’d been fearful at the time…He wondered now at how much he might have reminded Sirius of his father, James.

“There is no shame in what you are feeling, Harry,” Dumbledore continued, “On the contrary… the fact that you can feel pain like this is your greatest strength.”

The anger flared anew. How dare he tell me… “My greatest strength is it?” his voice shook, “You haven’t got a clue… you don’t know…”

“What don’t I know,” Dumbledore drew him out calmly, knowing it was important to draw out this pain, like poison from a wound, or it would transform him for the worse.

Harry turned his rage full on Dumbledore, “I don’t want to talk about how I feel, all right?”

“Harry, suffering like this proves you are still a man! This pain is part of being human-”

“THEN – I – DON’T – WANT – TO – BE – HUMAN!” Harry roared. He looked around and grabbed the first thing his hands found – the silver instrument on the small table beside him and threw it across the room. It shattered upon impact.

“I DON’T CARE!” Harry yelled at the portraits who’d expressed their dismay at his outburst. He picked up the next item closest to him and threw it toward the fireplace “I’VE HAD ENOUGH, I’VE SEEN ENOUGH, I WANT OUT. I WANT IT TO END, I DON’T CARE ANY MORE-” He grabbed the now empty table and threw it as well, breaking the legs off on impact with the floor.

Jasper was now clutching desperately at Alice’s hand, his face blanched white. He’d never taken on such pain and anger all at once.

“You do care,” said Dumbledore calmly, “You care so much you feel as though you will bleed to death with the pain of it.”

“I DON’T!” Harry screamed.

The poor boy, Esme sympathized, aching to pull him into her arms and comfort him.

“Oh, yes, you do,” Dumbledore continued, “You have now lost your mother, your father, and the closest thing to a parent you have ever know. Of course you care.”


Jasper gasped as he felt the momentary release… Harry was searching for an escape, but the door wouldn’t open to his attempts.

“Let me out,” he said, the emotion building again.

“No,” Dumbledore replied.

They stared at each other for six point seven minutes.

“Let me out,” Harry repeated.

“No,” Dumbledore replied again.

“If you don’t – if you keep me in here – if you don’t let me-” Harry was heaving the anger reaching volcanic proportions.

“By all means continue destroying my possessions,” Dumbledore said serenely, “I daresay I have too many.” He walked over and sat behind his desk and watched Harry.

“Let me out,” Harry said again cold, calmly, belying the hatred beneath.

“Not until I have had my say,” Dumbledore replied.

“Do you – do you think I want to – do you think I give a – I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU’VE GOT TO SAY!” The anger erupted again, “I don’t want to hear anything you’ve got to say!”

“You will,” Dumbledore was relentless, “Because you are not nearly as angry with me as you ought to be. If you are to attack me, as I know you are close to doing, I would like to have thoroughly earned it.”

That took him aback. “What are you talking-?”

“It is my fault that Sirius died,” Dumbledore said clearly, “Or should I say, almost entirely my fault – I will not be so arrogant as to claim responsibility for the whole. Sirius was a brave, clever and energetic man, and such men are not usually content to sit at home in hiding while they believe others to be in danger.” He cleverly added, “Nevertheless, you should never have believed for an instant that there was any necessity for you to go to the Department of Mysteries tonight. If I had been open with you, Harry, as I should have been, you would have known a long time ago that Voldemort might try and lure you to the Department of Mysteries, and you would never have been tricked into going there tonight. And Sirius would not have had to come after you. That blame lies with me, and with me alone.”

Harry’s anger had all but dissipated in his confusion and curiosity as to what Dumbledore would say next.

“Please sit down,” Dumbledore requested.

Harry paused for a second then, slowly, made his way across the room littered with silver and wood debris. He took the seat across the desk from Dumbledore and waited expectantly.

“Am I to understand,” Phineas Nigellus interrupted from his portrait, “that my great-great-grandson – the last of the Blacks – is dead?”

“Yes, Phineas,” Dumbledore replied.

“I don’t believe it,” Phineas retorted and disappeared from his frame.

“Harry, I owe you an explanation,” Dumbledore continued, “An explanation of an old man’s mistakes. For I see now that what I have done, and not done, with regard to you, bears all the hallmarks of the failings of age. Youth cannot know how age thinks and feels. But old men are guilty if they forget what it was to be young… and I seem to have forgotten, lately…”

As Harry looked upon Dumbledore’s face, it took on every year of his advanced age.

“I guessed, fifteen years ago,” Dumbledore said, “when I saw the scar on your forehead, what it might mean. I guess that it might be the sign of a connection forged between you and Voldemort.”

“You’ve told me this before, Professor,” Harry said, unimpressed, rudely, though he cared little about anything right now.

“Yes,” Dumbledore apologized, “Yes, but you see – it is necessary to start with your scar. For it became apparent, shortly after you rejoined the magical world, that I was correct, and that your scar was giving you warnings when Voldemort was close to you, or else feeling powerful emotion.”

“I know,” Harry replied.

“And this ability of yours – to detect Voldemort’s presence, even when he is disguised, and to know what he is felling when his emotions are roused – as become more and more pronounced since Voldemort returned to his own body and his full powers.”

Harry continued to stare, simply listening.

“More recently,” Dumbledore continued, “I became concerned that Voldemort might realize that this connection between you exits. Sure enough, there came a time when you entered so far into his mind and thoughts that he sensed your presence. I am speaking, of course, of the night when you witnessed the attack on Mr. Weasley.”

“Yeah, Snape told me.” Harry droned.

Professor Snape, Harry,” Dumbledore corrected politely, “But did you know wonder why it was not I who explained this to you? Why I did not teach you Occlumency? Why I had not so much as looked at you for months?”

Harry looked up. He had, indeed wondered those vary things – feeling quite hurt over the lack of personal attention. “Yeah, Yeah I wondered.”

“You see,” Dumbledore said, “I believed it could not be long before Voldemort attempted to force his way into your mind, to manipulate and misdirect your thoughts, and I was not eager to give him more incentives to do so. I was sure that if he realized that our relationship was – or had ever been – closer than that of headmaster and pupil, he would seize his chance to use you as a means to spy on me. I feared the uses to which he would put you, the possibility that he might try and possess you. Harry, I believe I was right to think that Voldemort would have made use of you in such a way. On those rare occasions when we had close contact, I thought I saw a shadow of him stir behind your eyes…”

He’d been right. Harry had felt what he’d called the dormant snake rising to strike whenever they’d spoke.

“Voldemort’s aim in possessing you, as he demonstrated tonight, would not have been my destruction. It would have been yours. He hoped, when he possessed you briefly a short while ago, that I would sacrifice you in the hope of killing him. So you see, I have been trying, in distancing myself from you, to protect you, Harry. An old man’s mistake…”

As he sighed deeply, the words penetrated Harry’s carefully constructed wall of resentment and anger. It lessened now, but still, the emptiness within him, the space that Sirius took with him, consumed Harry.

“Sirius told me you felt Voldemort awake inside you the very night that you had the vision of Arthur Wealey’s attack. I knew at once that my worst fears were correct: Voldemort had realized he could use you. In an attempt to arm you against Voldemort’s assaults on your mind, I arranged Occlumency lessons with Professor Snape.”

He paused. The room was silent – on both this side and the other side of the wall that separated us. We were all on edge, waiting for the end of the explanation.

“Professor Snape discovered that you had been dreaming about the door to the Department of Mysteries for months. Voldemort, of course, had been obsessed with the possibility of hearing the prophecy ever since he regained his body; and as he dwelled on the door, so did you, though you did not know what it meant.

“And then you saw Rookwood, who worked in the Department of Mysteries before his arrest, telling Voldemort what we had known all along – that the prophecies held in the Ministry of Magic are heavily protected. Only the people to whom they refer can lift them from the shelves without suffering madness: in this case, either Voldemort himself would have to enter the Ministry of Magic, and risk revealing himself at last – or else you would have to take it for him. It became a matter of even greater urgency that you should master Occlumency.”

“But I didn’t,” Harry said glumly, “I didn’t practice, I didn’t bother, I could’ve stopped myself having those dreams, Hermione kept telling me to do it, if I had he’d never have been able to show me where to go, and – Sirius wouldn’t – Sirius wouldn’t-” Harry was grasping for an explanation, something to excuse the heavy burden of guilt that weighed on his heart. “I tried to check he’d really taken Sirius, I went to Umbridge’s office, I spoke to Kretcher…”

Dumbledore explained how Kretcher had, within the bounds of his servant hood, had turned against Sirius and turned to his next closest relative, Narcissa Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy’s wife. He’d twisted his message to ensure Harry thought Sirius had gone to the Ministry, though, as Harry recollected the conversation, clearly Kretcher still had bounds he could not break.

He went on to explain all that had happened that had brought them to the Ministry of Magic, or at least enough for Harry to understand the key points while protecting information the perhaps he deemed to be to important or too secretive for Harry to know. Kreacher, while unable to tell of the location of headquarters, told them enough to be valuable to Voldemort. “He’s bound by the enchantments of his kind, which is to say that he could not disobey a direct order from his master, Sirius. But he gave Narcissa information of the sort that is very valuable to Voldemort, yet must have seemed must too trivial for Sirius to think of banning him from repeating it.”

“Like what?” Harry asked.

“Like the fact that the person Sirius cared most about in the world was you,” Dumbledore said quietly, “Like the fact that you were coming to regard Sirius as a mixture of father and brother. Voldemort knew already, of course, that Sirius was in the Order, and that you knew where he was – but Kreacher’s information made him realize that the one person for whom you would go do any lengths to rescue was Sirius Black.”

Harry struggled to contain his anger as Dumbledore continued to explain how Sirius’ treatment of Kretcher was partly to blame. It was true. Certainly any servant can choose how they serve their master and to what lengths they will go to protect or betray them. But it wasn’t what Harry wanted to hear.


“I did not say that, nor will you ever hear me say it, “ Dumbledore replied, still maintaining his calm demeanor, “Sirius was not a cruel man, he was kind to house-elves in general. He had no love for Kreacher, because Kreacher was a living reminder of the home Sirius had hated.”

‘Yeah, he did hate it!” Harry retorted, his voice breaking as he remembered Sirius again, the now rising sun making no impact on his dark mood, “You made him stay shut up in that house and he hated it, that’s why he wanted to get out last night.”

“I was trying to keep Sirius alive,” Dumbledore said quietly.

“People don’t’ like being locked up!” Harry said furiously, turning on Dumbledore, “You did it to me all last summer-”

For whatever reason, we suddenly felt that Harry had struck on something, or perhaps had pushed Dumbledore, or maybe even that Dumbledore realized that now was the time to share more – to let Harry in on what was going on. Momentarily, Dumbledore rubbed his face in his hands, considering, or preparing to say what he had so say next. Finally, after several moments he looked up.

“It is time,” he said, “For me to tell you what I should have told you five years ago, Harry. Please sit down. I am going to tell you everything. I ask only a little patience. You will have your chance to rage at me – to do whatever you like – when I have finished. I will not stop you.”

Harry paused for a moment, considering, though he had little choice. Dumbledore had made it clear he was going nowhere. And so with a huff, he threw himself back into the chair opposite Dumbledore and waited.

For a moment, I heard Dumbledore’s voice, but not from the office, but through Carlisle’s mind. Are you prepared for me to reveal everything to Harry – everything including your existence – to trust him with that information, your secret and all that trust entails?
Chapter 116 Continued:

Carlisle glanced at me knowing I would have heard the entire question, and would fully understand the implications. I nodded slightly. He turned to the others. “Jacob, Dumbledore is preparing to let Harry in on a level of information that includes our existence – or secrets. Are you prepared to allow that level of information to be shared about your pack, and by extension, the pack of your brothers?”

Jacob paused for a moment, Renesmee seated in his lap. He looked much older then the teenager he still was as he looked from Seth to Leah. Oh yeah – we can handle it. Seth thought as he smiled encouragingly.

“You must do what you think is best,” Leah said, “I will follow you regardless.”

Jacob nodded as he thought for a moment more and then replied, “Harry’s about the same age many of us were when we found out the secret of our existence. He has already kept much. And I trust Dumbledore. If he thinks now is the time, then I agree.”

Carlisle glanced once around at the family. Each replied with a mixture of nods, yeses and a “heck yes” from Emmett.

“We, too, trust Dumbledore with whatever information he feels it is time to share with Harry.”

Dumbledore had heard it all, as he paused in his conversation with Harry, glancing out toward the grounds while he focused on hearing us through Carlisle’s mind. Now, having his answer, he turned to Harry.

“Five years ago you arrived at Hogwarts, Harry, safe and whole, as I had planned and intended. Well – not quite whole. You had suffered. I knew you would when I left you on your aunt and uncle’s doorstep. I knew I was condemning you to ten dark and difficult years.

“You might ask – and with good reason – why it had to be so. Why could some wizarding family not have taken you in? Many would have done so more then gladly, would have been honored and delighted to raise you as a son.

“My answer is that my priority was to keep you alive. You were in more danger than perhaps anyone but I realized. Voldemort had been vanquished hours before, but his supporters – and many of them are almost as terrible as he – were still at large, angry, desperate and violent. And I had to make my decision, too, with regard to the years ahead. Did I believe that Voldemort was gone for ever? No. I knew not whether it would be ten, twenty or fifty years before he returned, but I was sure he would do so, and I was sure, too, knowing him as I have done, that he would not rest until he killed you.

“I knew that Voldemort’s knowledge of magic is perhaps more extensive than any wizard alive. I knew that even my most complex and powerful protective spells and charms were unlikely to be invincible if he ever returned to full power.

“But I knew, too, where Voldemort was weak. And so I made my decision. You would be protected by an ancient magic of which he knows, which he despises, and which he has always, therefore, underestimated – to his cost. I am speaking, of course, of the fact that your mother died to save you. She gave you a lingering protection he never expected, a protection that flows in your veins to this day. I put my trust, therefore, in your mother’s blood. I delivered you to her sister, her only remaining relative.

“She doesn’t love me,” Harry interrupted, “She doesn’t give a damn-”

“But she took you,” Dumbledore cut him off, “She may have taken you grudgingly, furiously, unwillingly, bitterly, yet still she took you, and in doing so, she sealed the charm I placed upon you. Your mother’s sacrifice made the bond of blood the strongest shield I could give you.”

“I still don’t-” Harry started, confused.

“While you can still call home the place where your mother’s blood dwells, there you cannot be touched or harmed by Voldemort. He shed her blood, but it lives on in you and her sister. Her blood became your refuge. You need return there only once a year, but as long as you can still call it home, whilst you are there he cannot hurt you. Your aunt knows this. I explained what I had done in the letter I left, with you, on her doorstep. She knows that allowing you houseroom may well have kept you alive for the past fifteen years.

“Wait,” Harry stopped him, “Wait a moment...” he sat up straighter, “You sent that Howler. You told her to remember – it was your voice-”

“I thought,” Dumbledore said, “that she might need reminding of the pact she had sealed by taking you. I suspected the Dementor attack might have awoken her to the dangers of having you as a surrogate son.”

“It did,” Harry replied quietly, “Well – my uncle more then her. He wanted to chuck me out, but after the Howler came she – she said I had to stay… but what’s this got to do with-” he stopped, unable to say his godfather’s name now that his anger had dissipated and he was left with only the emptiness.

“Five years ago, then,” Dumbledore continued, “you arrived at Hogwarts, neither as happy nor as well-nourished as I would have liked, perhaps, yet alive and healthy. You were not a pampered little prince, but as normal a boy as I could have hoped under the circumstances. Thus far, my plan was working well.

“And then… well, you will remember the events of your first year at Hogwarts quite as clearly as I do. You rose magnificently to the challenge that faced you and sooner – much sooner – than I had anticipated, you found yourself face to face with Voldemort. You survived again. You did more. You delayed his return to full power and strength. You fought a man’s fight. I was… prouder of you than I can say.

“Yet there was a flaw in this wonderful plan of mine. An obvious flaw that I knew, even then, might be the undoing of it all. And yet, knowing how important it was that my plan should succeed, I told myself that I would not permit this flaw to ruin in. I alone could prevent this, so I alone must be strong. And here was my first test, as you lay in the hospital wing, weak from your struggle with Voldemort.”

“I don’t understand what you’re saying,” Harry said.

You and me both – kid! Emmett chimed in.

“Don’t you remember asking me, as you lay in the hospital wing, why Voldemort had tried to kill you when you were a baby?”

Harry nodded.

“Ought I to have told you then?”

He was just a kid. Rosalie sympathized.

“You do not see the flaw in the plan yet? No… perhaps not. Well, as you know, I decided not to answer you. Eleven, I told myself, was much too young to know. I had never intended to tell you when you were eleven. The knowledge would be too much at such a young age.

“I should have recognized the danger signs then. I should have asked myself why I did not feel more disturbed that you had already asked me the question to which I knew, one day, I must give a terrible answer. I should have recognized that I was too happy to think that I did not have to do it on that particular day… you were too young, much too young.

“And so we entered your second year at Hogwarts. And once again you met challenges even grown wizards have never faced; once again you acquitted yourself beyond my wildest dreams. You did not ask me again, however, why Voldemort had left that mark on you. We discussed your scar, oh yes… we came very, very close to the subject. Why did I not tell you everything?

“Well, it seemed to me that twelve was, after all, hardly better then eleven to receive such information. I allowed you to leave my presence, bloodstained, exhausted, but exhilarated, and if I felt a twinge of unease that I ought, perhaps, to have told you then, it was swiftly silenced. You were still so young, you see, and I could not find it in myself to spoil that night of triumph…

“Do you see, Harry? Do you see the flaw in my brilliant plan now? I had fallen into the trap I had foreseen, that I had told myself I could avoid, that I must avoid.”

“I don’t-”

“I cared about you too much,” he said simply, “I cared more for your happiness than your knowing the truth, more for your peace of mind than my plan, more for your life than the lives that might be lost if the plan failed. In other words, I acted exactly as Voldemort expects we fools who love to act.

“Is there a defense? I defy anyone who has watched you as I have – and I have watched you more closely than you have imagined – not to want to save you more pain than you had already suffered. What did I care if numbers of nameless and faceless people and creatures were slaughtered in the vague future, if in the here and now you were alive, and well, and happy? I never dreamed that I would have such a person on my hands.

“We entered your third year. I watched from afar as you struggled to repel Dementors, as you found Sirius, learned what he was and rescued him. Was I to tell you then, at the moment when you had triumphantly snatched your godfather from the jaws of the Ministry? But now, at the age of thirteen, my excuses were running out. Young you might be, but you had proved you were exceptional. My conscience was uneasy, Harry. I knew the time must come soon…

Please come in… Dumbledore invited as he continued on. “And then last year, as you triumphed over the Tri-wizard tournament – and I knew, I knew all along. And yet again, I avoided telling you everything, for I wished not to burden you.”

Dumbledore looked up at all of us, now congregated in his office. With a wave, he gestured for me to come forward. I did, kneeling down beside Harry’s chair. For a moment, he didn’t notice my presence. “You came out of the maze last year, believing to have watched Edward die, carrying that with you…”

With one cool hand, I reached out for Harry’s. He stared at it blankly for a moment and then to my face. For a second he believed he was looking into the face of a ghost – like when he’d seen me, or rather, my spirit in the field. When I’d somehow projected my soul from my body in a desperate attempt to return to my family – to Bella.

Slowly, he took in the color of my hair, the fact that the pallor of my face wasn’t quite as white as he’d expected, my clothes which were most definitely real. He jumped back in his chair.

“W-what is this?” He gasped.

“Harry, if I’d told you – if you knew that I knew your name would be pulled from the Triwizard cup. If you know that Professor Trelawney had prophesied yet again – why would I not then share with you everything? What excuse would I have?”

Harry shook his head turning back to me, and then to my family, Cedric and Jacob’s pack. Only now he noticed the similarities in the family, and how Bella had changed from the girl he’d known and sat across in school.

“What are you?”

“Harry,” Carlisle spoke, stepping forward, “Albus is an old friend of mine, someone I met decades before you were born – when he, himself was a young man.”

Harry stared back at him in shock.

“When he knew what about to happen, he remembered his old friend – his old friend who had a son, a remarkable son who, perhaps, could help.”

“But… how? You can’t be any older then… then my Dad would be now?”

“Harry, I am a vampire.”

Harry jumped out of his chair and backed toward the door. “B-b-but you taught us. You were our professor… and you – you were with me, in the maze. You d-died!”

“When the killing curse hit me, it did much damage.” I explained, “It was the second most painful experience I’ve ever had. As much as we can gather is that the spell exploded within me, rendering my body completely useless until the venom healed me.”

“But I saw your spirit.” Do vampires even have spirits?

“Believe me, that was as much a shock to me as it was to you…” I smiled benevolently.

“So, you’re not dead.”

“Edward, and his family, have been working with me ever since, trying to gather up support for our cause against Voldemort among his kind. With, of course, the support of Cedric.”

“You knew?” Harry turned now an accusing gaze at Cedric.

“Not until later, when I put the pieces together.” Cedric defended.

“And, I’m not a completely heartless old man, Harry.” Dumbledore interrupted, “I knew Sirius was wasting away in his childhood home. He spent quite a bit of time with the Cullens, under their protection as much as on an assignment of his own. Jacob, and his pack, are like a cross between Remus and Sirius. They shape shift into wolves, maintaining their mind and conscience in animal form much like Sirius.”

Leah stepped forward, “Harry, I’m so sorry for your loss. Please know that our hearts also ache for him. He was a good friend… in a way a cross between an older brother and a father for me. I too, lost my father suddenly.” She gave him a warm embrace and then stepped back into place beside Cedric.

Harry stood, agape. So much was running through his mind – much that he wouldn’t quite be able to process. Not yet, with the tragedy was anew.

“I hope,” Dumbledore continued, “you can forgive me. If I had told you sooner – I could have spared you the pain. You have long been ready for the knowledge I have kept from you for so long, because you have proved that I should have placed the burden upon you before this. My only defense is this: I have watched you struggling under more burdens than any student who has ever passed through this school and I could not bring myself to add another – the greatest one of all.”

Harry waited. “I still don’t understand.”

“Voldemort tried to kill you when you were a child because of a prophecy made shortly before your birth. I mentioned before that Professor Trelawney prophesied again. Well, there was a time before – a time Voldemort knew about, but did not know fully. He set out to kill you when you were still a baby; believing he was fulfilling the terms of the prophecy. He discovered, to his cost, that he was mistaken, when the curse intended to kill you backfired. And so, since his return to his body, and particularly since your extraordinary escape from him last year, he has been determined to hear that prophecy in its entirety. This is the weapon he has been seeking so assiduously since his return: the knowledge of how to destroy you.

I stepped back as sun flooded the room on this unusually sunny day in Scotland. He’d been up for a full day now – well in need of rest, but he needed this more.

“The prophecy’s smashed,” Harry said, “I was pulling Neville up those benches in the – the room where the archway was, and I ripped his robes and it fell…”

“The thing that smashed was merely the record of the prophecy kept by the Department of Mysteries. But the prophecy was made to somebody and that person has the means of recalling it perfectly.”

“Who heard it?” Harry asked unnecessarily. It was clear who it was.

“I did,” Dumbledore replied, “on a cold, wet night sixteen years ago, in a room above the bar at the Hog’s Head inn. I had gone there to see an applicant for the post of Divination teacher, though it was against my inclination to allow the subject of Divination to continue at all. The applicant, however, was the great-great-granddaughter of a very famous, very gifted Seer and I thought it common politeness to meet her. I was disappointed. It seemed to me that she had not a trace of the gift herself. I told her, courteously I hope, that I did not think she would be suitable for the post. I turned to leave.”

Dumbledore suddenly got up and went to the cabinet I’d heard the voices coming from the first day in his study. He opened it, and drew from it the shallow stone bowl carved with runes that was the pensieve – the same one Snape had used during Harry’s training – the one in which Harry’d seen Snapes worst memories. Placing it on his desk, he drew his wand. Placing it at his temple, he pulled away, taking a wisp of a silvery substance attached at it’s tip. He prodded at it in the penseive and a figure rose from the mist…

"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…”

It was Professor Trelawney, but as we’d never heard her. She spoke with a harsh hoarse tone and then sank back into the silver misty mass in the bowl.

“Professor Dumbledore?” Harry started quietly, “It… did it mean… what did that mean?”

“It meant,” Dumbledore explained, “that the person who has the only chance of conquering Lord Voldemort for good was born at the end of July, nearly sixteen years ago. This boy would be born to parents who had already defied Voldemort three times.”

“It means – me?” he gasped, feeling a little dizzy.

Dumbledore took a deep breath, “The odd thing, Harry, is that it may not have meant you at all. Sybill’s prophecy could have applied to two wizard boys, both born at the end of July that year, both of whom had parents in the Order of the Phoenix, both sets of parents having narrowly escaped Voldemort three times. One, of course, was you. The other was Neville Longbottom,”

Neville Longbottom? A collective gasp of shock rose among us.

“But then… but then, why was it my name on the prophecy and not Neville’s?”

“The official record was re-labeled after Voldemort’s attack on you as a child. It seemed plain to the keep of the Hall of Prophecy that Voldemort could only have tried to kill you because he knew you to be the one to whom Sybill was referring.”

“Then – it might not be me?”

“I am afraid,” Dumbledore said slowly, “that there is no doubt that it is you.”

“But you said – Neville was born at the end of July, too – and his mum and dad-”

“You are forgetting the next part of the prophecy, the final identifying feature of the boy who could vanquish Voldemort… Voldemort himself would mark him as his equal. And so he did, Harry. He chose you, not Neville. He gave you the scar that has proved both a blessing and curse.”

“But he might have chosen wrong!” Harry exclaimed, “He might have marked the wrong person!”

“He chose the boy he thought most likely to be a danger to him,” said Dumbledore, “And notice this, Harry: he chose, not the pureblood (which, according to his creed, is the only kind of wizard worth being or knowing) but the half-blood, like himself. He saw himself in you before he had ever seen you, and in marking you with that scar, he did not kill you, as he intended, but gave you powers, and a future, which have fitted you to escape him not once, but four times so far – something that neither your parents, nor Neville’s parents, ever achieved.”

“Why did he do it, then?” Harry asked and I was again thankful to him for asking the question that was at the forefront of my mind, “Why did he try and kill me as a baby? He should have waited to see whether Neville or I looked more dangerous when we were older and tried to kill whoever it was then-”

“That might, indeed, have been the more practical course,” Dumbledore replied, “except that Voldemort’s information about the prophecy was incomplete. The Hogs’ Head inn, which Sybill chose for its cheapness, has long attracted, shall we say, a more interesting clientele than the Three Broomsticks. As you and your friends found out to your cost, and I to mine that night, it is a place where it is never safe to assume you are not being overhead. Of course, I had not dreamed, when I set out to meet Sybill Trelawney, that I would hear anything worth overhearing. My – our – one stroke of good fortune was that the eavesdropper was detected only a short way into the prophecy and thrown from the building.”

“So he only heard-”

“He heard only the beginning, the part foretelling the birth of a boy in July to parents who had thrice defied Voldemort. Consequently, he could not warn his master that to attack you would be to risk transferring power to you, and marking you as his equal. So Voldmort never knew that there might be danger in attacking you, that It might be wise to wait, to learn more. He did not know that you would have power the Dark Lord knows not-”

“But I don’t!” Harry protested, “I haven’t any powers he hasn’t got, I couldn’t fight the way he did tonight, I can’t possess people or – or kill them-”

“There is a room in the Department of Mysteries that is kept locked at all times. It contains a force that is at once more wonderful and more terrible than death, than human intelligence, than the forces of nature. It is also, perhaps, the most mysterious of the many subjects for study that reside there. It is the power held within that room that you possess in such quantities and which Voldemort has not at all. That power took you to save Sirius tonight. That power also saved you from possession by Voldemort, because he could not bear to reside in a body so full of the force he detests. In the end, it mattered not that you could not close your mind. It was your heart that saved you.”

Harry closed his eyes. He could barely manage the pain. And now that the rest of us had a better control on our emotions, Jasper had the strength to reach out and take some of that pain upon himself, allowing him to continue, to shift his focus. “The end of the prophecy… it was something about… neither can live…”

“… while the other survives,” Dumbledore finished.

“So,” Harry continued, swallowing hard against the well of fear and pain, “so does that mean that… that one of us has got to kill the other one… in the end?”

“Yes,” Dumbledore answered quietly.

They were both quiet for a time. I could hear the noises of the castle coming to life – the students streaming from their houses on their way to breakfast – those laughing at the joy of the end of another term – the talking and last minute well wishes before the final train would leave. I recalled hearing it all from very near this exact location, as I waited with Bella, to heal and to leave. It hadn’t been so joyous last year. The somberness of my apparent death had tempered it. It felt as thought it should be more so this year, but of course none of them knew of Sirius’ death, and if they had, the vast majority would simply have bid farewell to someone they knew as a killer. And that, to me, was the greatest tragedy of all – that Sirius wouldn’t be remembered for the loving, compassionate, caring man that he was.

NOTE: Pretty much all the dialogue between Harry and Dumbledore is right from the book... thanks JK!
omg first comment
i feel so accomplished! lol i'm not caught up yet, but i'm getting closer
Congrats! :-) and good luck on getting caught up. Luckily I haven't been writing as much lately.
Erica - What can I say? Fantastic job!
Thanks Yvonne :-)
Hey Nezz- thanks so much! and sorry 'bout the crying - well not really since it was supposed to be sad! thanks again!
I LOVE IT !!!!!!!!!! poor harry got a massive scare
Thanks mrs.pattinsoncullen!


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