Chapter 88: Revelations
Disclaimer:
Harry Potter and all of its characters belong to J.K. Rowling.
I own only the original characters I create.
"Dialogue"
'Thoughts'
-Author notes-
Chapter 88: Revelations
Harry stood alone in the quiet corner of the headquarters, staring out at the fireplace. His face was getting a bit too warm, but he barely felt it.
His mind churned, replaying the day's events.
He closed his eyes, trying to push the image of Dolohov dying away. But it lingered, stubborn and painful.
Footsteps approached from behind. Harry didn't turn. He knew who it was.
"Harry."
Tom Riddle's voice was calm, measured. Harry turned slowly.
Tom's robes were dirty, torn in several places. The fabric was singed at the edges, and there was a dark stain on his sleeve that might have been blood...Though Harry couldn't tell if it was Tom's or someone else's.
His face was worn, with dark circles under his eyes.
"You've been fighting too," Harry said quietly.
Tom nodded, his expression grim. "There were more reinforcements than we anticipated. Dumbledore's forces are becoming bolder." He paused. "I heard about Antonin. I am sorry."
Harry's jaw tightened. "He died saving me."
"Yes," Tom said. "And I want you to know...I hope you don't blame yourself. Antonin knew the risks of this mission. We all did. He made his choice."
Harry shook his head slowly. "I just don't understand why. We barely knew each other. He barely knew me."
Tom's expression flickered...something complicated, guarded. Harry caught it.
"Tom," Harry said, his voice sharpening. "Is there something you're not telling me?"
Tom was silent for a long moment. Then he sighed, a heavy, weary sound. He gestured towards the door, and it swung shut, sealing them in the small alcove.
"There is," he admitted. "But it is something that must be kept secret. It is only for your ears."
Harry felt a chill run down his spine. "What is it?"
Tom sat down on a bench, his shoulders slumping with exhaustion. "Thirteen years ago, I received an important message, one that could change everything. It was given to me by the leader of the centaur tribe that once lived in the Forbidden Forest...before Dumbledore wiped them out for their 'strange abilities.' They saw things, Harry. Things that were meant to be hidden."
Harry sat down beside him, his heart pounding. "What did they see?"
Tom met his eyes. "A prophecy about Albus Dumbledore."
Tom's voice was low, distant, as if he was reciting words that had been burned into his memory.
"The one with the power to unmake the tyrant approaches. Born at the end of the Seventh Month, marked by the ruler who fears the passage of time. He shall be the last heir of an ancient dynasty and wield a power the tyrant does not understand. Either must fall at the hand of the other, for the tyrant's reign cannot succeed while the chosen heir draws breath."
Harry stared at him, his mind racing. "That's... that's about me?"
Tom nodded slowly. "The centaur who spoke it...his name was Magorian. He was the leader of their tribe, and he was known for his visions. He told me that the child spoken of would be born at the end of July. He said that he would be marked by the tyrant, yet the tyrant's hand would not hold him. That he would be the last heir of an ancient dynasty and wield a power that Dumbledore could not comprehend."
Harry's mind was reeling. There was a prophecy in this twisted world as well, just like in the original story, but this one.
'It's very different.'
However, Tom was not done talking yet.
"Unfortunately, Dumbledore learned about this prophecy shortly after it was given to me...he had one spy in the order and couldn't catch him before it was too late."
"Dumbledore knows about this?" Harry was surprised to find out, because it contradicted much of what he had done.
"Yes," Tom said. "I dont know if he has the complete prophecy or if the spy was only able to overhear part of it."
Harry shook his head slowly. "So what did you do? When you learned about the prophecy?"
Tom was silent for a long moment. His eyes were distant, lost in an unpleasant memory.
"I made the decision to go find your parents," he said quietly. "James and Lily Potter. I tried to convince them to leave Dumbledore's side. To take you and run, to hide you from him. I told them about the prophecy. I told them what I knew. It was a risky bet, but I thought that the safety of their newborn son was the only thing that had a chance to convince them to change sides."
Harry's stomach tightened. "What happened?"
"They refused. They were completely loyal to Dumbledore. They believe that Dumbledore knew what was best for everyone, so...they were going to give you to him."
Harry's hands curled into fists. "They were going to give me to Dumbledore?. Even after learning about the prophecy?"
"Yes," Tom said. "I couldn't allow that. You were too important to lose."
Harry's expression remained the same. He already knew what happened next. "You killed them."
Tom's expression was unreadable. "They didn't leave any other choice. You were too important to lose."
Harry tried to process this information. It was a strange situation because in reality, those people weren't even his parents. Because he wasn't really Harry Potter. He was just a sick boy from a different world who ended up waking up in the body of Harry Potter.
And even if those were actually his parents, Harry knew they were not good people. James Potter had committed countless atrocities. He was even willing to give up his only child to someone like Dumbledore.
But still, he couldn't help but become angry.
"Do you hate me for it?" Tom asked. "I won't blame you if you do. They were your parents."
Harry looked at him. "I shouldn't hate you. You were the only one trying to protect me... weren't you?"
Tom's expression softened. "I was, but I was doing it for my own selfish reasons. I wanted to eliminate Albus Dumbledore more than anything, and that prophecy gave me a way to do it. I told you before that I wasn't a good person either. I have done many things in my life that I am not proud of. And this is one of them. One of my failures."
Harry glanced at him and realised something. "Wait... if you killed my parents, then how..." How did he end up under Dumbledore's thumb?
Tom sighed. "I'm sure you have heard, but your father was an excellent duellist, and your mother was no less. After our fight was done, I was left exhausted and injured. And that's when he appeared."
"Dumbledore," Harry said.
Tom nodded. " Im not sure how it happened because it went too quickly. All I remember is seeing him appear before me, and the next thing I knew was that I was locked in some chamber. I became Dumbledore's favourite toy until the day you rescued me."
Harry's mind was spinning. "You were there the whole time. Over a decade."
"Yes, " Tom said quietly. "I was very shocked to find out you were alive, Harry. And I know that all of my colleagues were too. We all thought that you were dead. That Dumbledore would have killed you the moment he got his hands on you."
Harry was silent for a long moment. He thought about everything Tom had told him. The prophecy. His parents' murder. Dumbledore's manipulation.
"So he knew this whole time," Harry said finally. "Dumbledore knew I was the one destined to destroy him. And yet he kept me alive."
Tom nodded slowly. "He is arrogant. He believed that he could control you, bend you to his will. He is so confident in his own power that he is willing to take his chances against fate itself."
Harry felt a surge of cold anger. "He killed my family. He erased my memories. He tried to break me. All while knowing I was destined to end him."
"Yes," Tom said. "Because he also needs you. The immortality spell in the grimoire is beyond his reach without you. He kept you alive because you are the only one who can give him what he wants. He believes that once he has immortality, nothing will be able to stop him. Not even you."
Harry's jaw tightened. "He's an arrogant fool."
Tom smiled. "Isn't he?"
Harry looked at him. "But this is good for us, isn't it?"
Tom nodded. "It is. That arrogance will become his downfall."
Harry sat in silence for a moment. "Tom," he said finally, "do the other members know about the prophecy?"
Tom shook his head. "Some of them do. Not all of them. As sad as it is, I cannot trust every single member of the order with this information. Not after what happened."
"But Dolohov knew," Harry said.
Tom nodded. "Dolohov knew."
Harry felt a lump form in his throat. "That's why he did it. That's why he sacrificed himself to save me."
"Yes," Tom said quietly. "He believed in the prophecy. He believed in you, Harry."
He remained silent.
Tom gave him a moment. Then he spoke again. "So tell me, Harry... now that you know everything. Are you still with us?"
Harry met his gaze. "Do I have a choice?"
Tom shook his head slowly. "We always have a choice."
Harry didn't need time to think about it. "I am with you," he said. "Because I also believe in that goal. Since the day the Dursleys were murdered, I have been working towards this goal. I will kill Dumbledore. Not because a prophecy told me to. But because I believe the world will be better without him."
Tom smiled. "That is the answer I was hoping to hear."
Harry left the alcove and made his way through the main living quarters.
The adrenaline of the battle had faded, and exhaustion was settling into his bones. But his mind was still racing, still processing everything Tom had told him.
He found Draco sitting in a small common room, a cup of tea in his hands. His eyes looked tired, but he was relieved to see Harry.
"Harry," Draco said, setting down his tea. "You look terrible."
Harry managed a weak smile. "I feel terrible."
Draco gestured to the seat beside him. "Sit. Have some tea. It's not as good as what the house-elves make, but it's warm."
Harry sat down, wrapping his hands around the cup. The warmth seeped into his cold fingers.
"Where's Crabbe?" Harry asked.
Draco nodded towards the far end of the room. "He's with his father. They have been talking for a while. I think they have a lot to catch up on."
Harry looked over. Vincent Crabbe was sitting with a tall, broad-shouldered man who had his features...the same dark hair, the same solid build.
Vincent's eyes were red, as if he had been crying.
"I'm glad he got his family back," Harry said quietly. Seeing his friend happy made this whole thing more justified.
Draco nodded.
They sat in silence for a while, sipping their tea.
Then the door opened, and Sebastian Greengrass walked in.
He looked much better than he had in the carriage. His face was clean, his robes proper, and some colour had returned to his cheeks.
He moved with the dignified grace of a man who had once been a powerful lord.
"Harry," Sebastian said, his voice warm. "I was hoping I would find you."
Harry stood up. "Lord Greengrass."
Sebastian waved a hand dismissively. "Please. Just Sebastian. I am not a lord anymore. Not in this world." He smiled. "But I am a free man at least. Thanks to you."
Harry felt a wave of warmth. "I just did what was right."
Sebastian shook his head. "No, Harry. You did what few would have done. You risked your life for people you had never met. That is not something I will forget."
He extended his hand. Harry took it, and Sebastian clasped it firmly.
"I will be leaving soon," Sebastian said. "To see my family. My daughters, my wife." His eyes glistened. "I have not seen them in ten long years."
Harry felt a pang of empathy. "I'm sure they have been missing you a lot." Daphne didn't really talk much about her family. The girl didn't show her feelings very often. But Harry was sure she missed her father very much.
Sebastian nodded, his voice thick with emotion. "I know." He paused. "I wanted to ask you something, Harry. Once I am settled, I would like you to visit. I will send you a Portkey. You can stay as long as you like. I am sure Daphne would love to see you."
Harry blinked, surprised by the invitation. "I... I would like that. Thank you."
Sebastian smiled. "It is the least I can do." He clasped Harry's hand once more. "Take care of yourself, Harry. And know that you have a friend in the Greengrass family. Always."
He turned and walked away.
"Good man, Greengrass," Draco said quietly. "My father always spoke kindly of him."
Harry nodded. "Yeah. He does seem nice."
He drank his tea in peace and thought about the future. About the prophecy that had been written before he was even born and the new war that had just begun.
He would face it all. He would fight, and he would win.
Not because a prophecy told him to. But because he chose to.
A.N: - Remember to comment, vote, and/or leave a review if you have the time. Those things help me a lot and I would really appreciate it.
You can support me on P@treon if you like and get 10 advanced chapters. You can also find character images to view for free in Collections/Harry Potter: Mirror Images
-.com/Kriogenix
For donations and commissions, go to .com/kriogenix