Chapter 79: The Weight of the Truth
Disclaimer:
Harry Potter and all of its characters belong to J.K. Rowling.
I own nothing but the original characters I make.
"Dialogue"
'Thoughts'
-Author notes-
Chapter 79: The Weight of the Truth
Harry sat in the small circular room, facing the portraits of his grandparents.
He never thought that he would ever have the feeling of talking to his family again.
Fleamont Potter's eyes were filled with warmth. "So, Harry. Tell us about yourself. What has your life been like? What have you been through?"
Harry hesitated. He couldn't tell them about his real life...his life before waking up as a ten-year-old Harry Potter.
So he told them about his short life with the Dursleys, who he had loved as if they were his actual parents.
Then, he talked bout his first year at Hogwarts. The Sorting Ceremony, the Slytherin common room, the friends he had made. He told them about Pansy Parkinson and her desperate search for the truth about her brother's death. About Draco and Crabbe, his fiercely loyal friends. And Daphne Greengrass as well, who worried about him in her own way.
Euphemia listened with tears in her eyes. "Oh, Harry. You have been through so much. We wish we could have been there for you."
Harry smiled sadly. "I wish you could have been there too. But I'm here now. That's what matters."
"But I have to say...I'm glad that you found some nice people who took care of you." Euphemia said.
Fleamont nodded thoughtfully. "And Dumbledore? What has he been doing? I need to know everything."
Harry's expression darkened. He told them about his first meeting with Dumbledore, about the lemon drops and the compulsion charms. He told them about the memory wipes, the manipulation, the threats.
He also told them about the chamber hidden in the Third Floor corridor that he came across in his first year. The bodies of students he found there, the vials with blood and...the Dark Lord, chained in one forgotten corner of the chamber.
"And that's when Dumbledore realised he had lost control of me," Harry said. "He couldn't let that stand. So he decided to punish me in the worst way possible."
Euphemia's voice trembled. "What did he do?"
Harry's jaw tightened. "He killed my family. The Dursleys. Petunia, Vernon, and Dudley. He burned them alive and made it look like an accident. And then he erased my memory. He made me forget they ever existed."
Fleamont's face went pale, his hands curling into fists. "The bastard."
"He then gave me a new set of fake memories. He made me believe I was an orphan," Harry continued, his voice flat. "He made me believe I had been adopted by a woman named Arabella Figg. He made me believe my whole life was something it wasn't. I spent the entire summer living a lie. And every time I felt something was wrong, he gave me lemon drops that made me forget."
Euphemia pressed a hand to her mouth, tears streaming down her face. "Oh, Harry. That's... that's monstrous."
"I told you many times." Said Fleamont. "That old wizard is a bloody monster!"
Harry nodded. "He told me my friends would suffer if I stepped out of line. He used Draco and Crabbe as leverage. He said if I didn't cooperate, he would send them to re-education, just like Pansy."
Fleamont's eyes blazed with fury. "He threatened innocent children to control you."
"He did," Harry confirmed. "And I had to pretend. I had to act like I was still under his control. I had to smile and nod and eat his lemon drops. I had to pretend I didn't remember."
"How did you break free?" Euphemia asked, her voice trembling.
"Draco," Harry said. "He had kept my diary for safekeeping. The one I wrote during my first year of school. When I got it back, I read it. I remembered everything. The lake, the cave, Alistair, Pansy, the chamber, Tom Riddle. And the Dursleys."
Fleamont nodded slowly. "And then?"
"I had to be careful," Harry said. "I had to pretend nothing had changed. But I started planning. I found out about a secret chamber hidden in Hogwarts. But..."
"Mmm?" Fleamont glanced at him.
Harry didn't really want to talk about it just yet. Ginny's treason was still too recent and still hurt.
He had thought he found a true friend in her, but...how wrong he had been.
If it hasnt been for Daphne giving him a warning, his fate would have been much different.
"Harry, dear...you dont have to tell us if you dont feel up to it," Euphemia commented after noticing his expression.
"Thanks." Harry tried to smile.
"But why would Dumbledore go out of his way to do all those things?" Fleamont asked. "He may be a sadistic bastard, but I presume he has better things to do than to torture my grandson." His eyes narrowed. "He wanted something from you... didn't he?"
Harry nodded.
"The Potter Grimoire." Fleamont gave him a knowing look. "You have it...yes?. You got it from the vault."
Harry nodded again.
"He wants a secret that he believes is inside the grimoire. A magic formula left behind by one of my ancestors, Barnaby Potter. Something called the Elixir of True Immortality."
Fleamont's face went pale. "He knows about that?"
"He knows," Harry confirmed. "He's been searching for it for decades. He tried to get it from you, then he tried to manipulate my father to join his side. But as you know..."
"James couldn't bond with the grimoire," Fleamont said. "Yes...that book has its own mind, and never cared for James. Must have seen something that we, as parents... missed."
Euphemia had a sad expression on her face. "Perhaps it is a good thing the real me died before seeing her beloved son turned into Albus Dumbledore's soldier."
"We cannot change the past", Fleamont said. "But we can help Harry shape the future." He glanced at Harry. "The Elixir of True Immortality was created by Barnaby Potter using forbidden alchemy. It is one of the most dangerous pieces of magic ever devised. It must never fall into the hands of someone like Dumbledore."
"I know," Harry said. "I won't let him have it."
Fleamont studied him for a long moment. "The grimoire that you now have contains many spells that should never see the light of day. Some of our ancestors believed that such knowledge had to be recorded, in case it was ever needed. But they also knew that it could be misused. You must be very careful, Harry. Treat the grimoire with the respect it deserves."
Harry nodded solemnly. "I promise."
Fleamont smiled. "Good. Now, what about the Potter Ring? And the Cloak of Invisibility? Do you still have them?"
Harry reached into his robes and pulled out both items. The gold ring was still gleaming as if it were new, its stag sigil catching the light from the candles.
The cloak was folded neatly in his hands.
Fleamont's eyes widened. "You have them. Both of them."
Harry nodded. "Of course. They are my most precious treasures."
"Good," Fleamont said. "The cloak is not just a normal Invisibility Cloak. It is part of something much greater, and it has a deeper, darker secret. It has been in our family for almost a millennium. Make sure to never lose it."
Harry knew what his grandfather was referring to. The cloak was one of the Deathly Hallows, a magical artifact of immense power. But he did not say this aloud.
So he simply nodded.
"Now, put on the ring," Fleamont said. "You are the last Potter. You are rightly Lord Potter now. The ring will also serve to give you access to most secure parts of the castle. Like the underground chamber where the magical arrays are located, or the treasury."
Harry slid the ring onto his finger. It felt warm against his skin, as if it had been waiting for him. A pulse of magic flowed through him, connecting him to the castle, to the land, to the legacy of his family.
"Thank you, Grandfather," he said.
Fleamont smiled. "You are welcome, my boy. Now, go rest. You have had a long day."
"Yes, go get some sleep, Harry. Your grandfather and I are not going anywhere. We can talk more tomorrow." Euphemia said.
<><>
Harry left the study, his mind still spinning. The conversation with his grandparents had been more than he had ever hoped for.
Dibble led him to a bedroom on the second floor. It was large and comfortable, with a four‑poster bed, a crackling fireplace, and a window that overlooked the moonlit garden.
"Master Harry has had a long day," Dibble said. "Dibble will bring dinner shortly. Please rest."
Harry nodded, too exhausted to speak.
He ate a quick dinner...simple but delicious, prepared by the house elf, then took a long, hot shower. The water washed away the grime and the tension, but it could not wash away the weight of everything that had happened.
Finally, he climbed into bed. The sheets were soft and warm, and the fire crackled gently in the hearth.
Harry lay in the darkness, staring at the canopy above him. His mind was racing, churning with questions and fears.
Too much had happened in one single day for his mind to process everything.
But now that he finally had a chance to relax a bit...things were starting to come back to him.
'Dumbledore knew about the chamber,' he thought. 'He knew it was supposed to be the Slytherin Chamber of Secrets. He said the chamber was "originally very different." That means he knows the original story. He knows what should have happened.'
He thought about the other things Dumbledore had said: "I know more about you than you think. I even know that Harry Potter is not your original name, is it?"
Dumbledore knows I came from another world.
This was his best-kept secret. The fact that he was someone from another world was something he never shared with anyone. And something that he never planned on telling anyone.
But Dumbledore knew...
And the most terrifying part: "We have a lot more in common than you think, my boy."
Harry's blood ran cold. 'What if Dumbledore is like me? What if he also came from another world? What if he also read the books?'
The thought was chilling. If Dumbledore knew the original story, then he knew everything. He knew about the Hallows, about the Horcruxes, about the prophecy. He knew about Harry's destiny...or what was supposed to be his destiny.
'Is that why this world is so twisted?' Harry wondered. 'Did Dumbledore change it? Did he make everyone act differently? Is he the reason why the heroes are villains, and the villains are heroes?'
It seemed impossible. Could magic do something like changing how the entire world was supposed to work?.
But then again...if an evil person from his world woke up in the body of the most powerful wizard alive, with all the otherworldly knowledge about this place...how much harm could such a person cause?.
He thought about the twisted versions of all the people he had met so far. The kind Dursleys, the evil Weasleys, the affable Draco Malfoy who became his best friend.
Harry had no idea how such a thing could happen. It was something that had confused him from the first day he opened his eyes in this twisted world.
'If Dumbledore knows everything I know... if he knows the original story, and what should have happened. Could he have reshaped this world into something else?...something as twisted as himself?.
But what does he want? Why do that? What is his endgame?
Harry closed his eyes, trying to process the enormity of it all. He had escaped Dumbledore's grasp for now, but he had not escaped the mystery.
'I need to find out the truth,' he thought. 'I need to understand who Dumbledore really is. Where he comes from, and what he is capable of.'
He turned over in bed, pulling the blankets tighter around himself.
'But not tonight. Tonight, I need to rest.'
'Tomorrow, I will begin training. I will learn everything I can from the grimoire. I will need to become strong enough to face him. Because as I am right now...there is not much I can do.'
"And when I am strong enough, I will make him pay for everything he has done." He whispered to himself as he began to fall asleep.
That night, Harry dreamed of a world that was not his own...a world where the heroes were heroes, the villains were villains, and everything was as it should have been.
But the dream faded, and when he woke, he was still in this twisted world.
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