Chapter Twenty-Two

When he looked back, even a month ago, Harry found he had only scattered memories of the next few days. It was as though he had been through too much to take in any more. The recollections he did have were very painful.

As he stared out the window, rain pouring down upon the dark clouds. Harry could hear the train whistled. In the corner of his eye, he could see Hermione and Ron talking. They were in a compartment. It was time for all of them to go home. Though Harry thought Hogwarts would be his home and not the Dursleys…

He thought back what happened a few days ago…

Harry felt himself slam flat into the ground; his face was pressed into grass; the smell of it filled his nostrils. He had closed his eyes while the Portkey transported him, and he kept them closed now. He did not move. All the breath seemed to have been knocked out of him; his head was swimming so badly he felt as though the ground beneath him were swaying like the deck of a ship. To hold himself steady, he tightened his hold on the two things he was still clutching: the smooth, cold handle of the Triwizard Cup and Jack's body. He felt as though he would slide away into the blackness gathering at the edges of his brain if he let go of either of them. Shock and exhaustion kept him on the ground, breathing in the smell of the grass, waiting… waiting for someone to do something… something to happen… and all the while, his scar burned dully on his forehead…

A torrent of sound deafened and confused him; there were voices everywhere, footsteps, screams… He remained where he was, his face screwed up against the noise, as though it were a nightmare that would pass…

Then a pair of hands seized him roughly and turned him over.

"Harry! Harry!"

He opened his eyes.

He was looking up at the starry sky, and Albus Dumbledore was crouched over him. The dark shadows of a crowd of people pressed in around them, pushing nearer; Harry felt the ground beneath his head reverberating with their footsteps.

He had come back to the edge of the maze. He could see the stands rising above him, the shapes of people moving in them, the stars above.

Harry let go of the cup, but he clutched Jack to him even more tightly. He raised his free hand and seized Dumbledore's wrist, while Dumbledore's face swam in and out of focus.

"He's back," Harry whispered. "He's back. Voldemort."

"What's going on? What's happened?"

The face of Cornelius Fudge appeared upside down over Harry; it looked white, appalled.

"My God - Black!" it whispered. "Dumbledore - he's dead!"

The words were repeated, the shadowy figures pressing in on them gasped it to those around them… and then others shouted it - screeched it - into the night – "He's dead!" "He's dead!" "Jack Black! Dead!"

"Harry, let go of him," he heard Fudge's voice say, and he felt fingers trying to pry him from Jack's limp body, but Harry wouldn't let him go. Then Dumbledore's face, which was still blurred and misted, came closer.

"Harry, you can't help him now. It's over. Let go."

"He wanted me to bring him back," Harry muttered - it seemed important to explain this. "He wanted me to bring him back to his mum…"

"That's right. Harry… just let go now…"

Dumbledore bent down, and with extraordinary strength for a man so old and thin, raised Harry from the ground and set him on his feet. Harry swayed. His head was pounding. The crowd around them jostled, fighting to get closer, pressing darkly in on him - "What's happened?" "What's wrong with him?" "Black's dead!"

"He'll need to go to the hospital wing!" Fudge was saying loudly. "He's ill – Dumbledore, Black's parent and his aunt, they're here, they're in the stands…"

"I'll take Harry, Dumbledore, I'll take him -"

"No, I would prefer-"

"Dumbledore, Jack's mother and Narcissa Black are running…and his sister…they're coming over…Don't you think you should tell them - before he sees -?"

"Harry, stay here -"

Girls were screaming, sobbing hysterically… The scene flickered oddly before Harry's eyes…

"It's all right, son, I've got you… come on… hospital wing…"

"Dumbledore said stay," said Harry thickly, the pounding in his scar making him feel as though he was about to throw up; his vision was blurring worse than ever.

"You need to lie down… Come on now…"

Harry recalled being taken by Moody to his office. Moody had probed Harry for information of what had happened. That it was Karkaroff who was the faithful servant Voldemort mentioned and that Jack had helped him. He had told Moody what he had overhead the owlery after the First Task.

Moody laughed.

"Karkaroff?" Moody chuckled. "Karkaroff fled tonight, when he felt the Dark Mark burn upon his arm. He betrayed too many faithful supporters of the Dark Lord to wish to meet them… but I doubt he will get far. The Dark Lord has ways of tracking his enemies."

"Karkaroff's gone? He ran away? But then – Jack put my name in the goblet?"

"No," Moody said slowly. "No, Jack didn't. It was I who did that."

Harry stared at him in disbelief. "No, you didn't. You didn't do that… you can't have done…"

"I assure you I did," said Moody, and his magical eye swung around and fixed upon the door, and Harry knew he was making sure that there was no one outside it. At the same time, Moody drew out his wand and pointed it at Harry.

"He forgave them, then?" he said. "The Death Eaters who went free? The ones who escaped Azkaban?"

"What?"

He was looking at the wand Moody was pointing at him. This was a bad joke, it had to be. "I asked you," said Moody quietly, "whether he forgave the scum who never even went to look for him. Those treacherous cowards who wouldn't even brave Azkaban for him. The faithless, worthless bits of filth who were brave enough to cavort in masks at the Quidditch World Cup, but fled at the sight of the Dark Mark when I fired it into the sky. Like that Jack Black…"

"You fired… What are you talking about…?"

"I told you Harry… I told you. If there's one thing I hate more than any other, it's a Death Eater who walked free. They turned their backs on my master when he needed them most. I expected him to punish them. I expected him to torture them. Tell me he hurt them, Harry…" Moody's face was suddenly lit with an insane smile. "Tell me he told them that I, I alone remained faithful, not like Jack, I… prepared to risk everything to deliver to him the one thing he wanted above all… you"

"You didn't… it - it can't be you…"

"Who put your name in the Goblet of Fire, under the name of a different school? I did. Who frightened off every person I thought might try to hurt you or prevent you from winning the tournament? I did. Who nudged Hagrid into showing you the dragons? I did. Who helped you see the only way you could beat the dragon? I did"

Moody's magical eye had now left the door. It was fixed upon Harry. His lopsided mouth leered more widely than ever.

"But Jack—"

"Jack Black," Moody laughed a bit. "He knew there was something wrong with me, ever since that first lesson. He had been suspicious of me and I too. I knew there was something about that kid that just rubs me off…So I confronted him after I put all you kids in Imperious…"

Harry went back when Moody first put Imperius Curse on him and the rest of his classmate. He recalled that time…

The bell rang, and the class started to gather their things after they had been put under Imperius Curse by Professor Moody. So far, only Harry had managed to fight it off and Jack was the second who could resist the curse less than a minute.

"Mr. Black, I like you stay." Moody called.

Harry looked back and could see Jack whispering something to Theo and Daphne before he went up to Moody. He shook his head and followed Ron to their next class.

"It was then I realized he was a Death Eater. And Jack found out that I was an imposter." Moody said. "I don't know how Jack had the Dark Mark, he had said he had it when he was a baby…Soon, Jack had begged me. He wanted to help me bring the Dark Lord back. I didn't trust him…I hated him for not helping our Master. He didn't search for our Master. I am the one who searched for him. I am the faithful servant.

"Then Jack suggested to use the Unbreakable Vow, to prove his loyalty and his willingness…Jack had vowed to help me bring back the Dark Lord and not to tell anyone about it, not his friends or Dumbledore…not to tell the plans.

"We need a Bonder," Jack said quietly in Moody's office. It was late at night, just a day before the Durmstrangs and Beauxbatons arrived.

"No need, I can do this," Moody said. He pulled out his wand and held Jack's hand. He then pointed it at their linked hands. "Will you, Jack, help me bring the Dark Lord back?"

"I will," Jack said.

A thin tongue of brilliant flame issued from the wand and wound its way around their hands like a red-hot wire.

"And will you tell no one of the plans I will say to you, not to Dumbledore, not to your friends, no one. That this will never leave this room, not a word?"

"I will," Jack said.

A second tongue of flame shot from the wand and interlinked with the first, making a fine, glowing chain.

"And will you keep Harry safe and guide him through his tasks and make sure in the Final Task that he would get the Triwizard Cup before the others, even you?"

There was a moment's silence. Moody glanced at Jack, who's eyes never leave their hands.

"I will," Jack said.

Then a third unique flame, which shot from the wand, twisted with the others, and bound itself thickly around their clasped hands, like a fiery snake. Jack finally looked up and then slowly let go of his hand.

"I still didn't trust him after that." Moody shook his head. "It hadn't been easy, Harry, guiding you through these tasks without arousing suspicion. I have had to use every ounce of cunning I possess with the help of Jack, so that our hands would not be detectable in your success. Dumbledore would have been very suspicious if you had managed everything too easily. As long as you got into that maze, preferably with a decent head start - then, I knew…I had to make your path clear by getting rid of the other champions, clearing your way. But I also had to contend with your stupidity. The second task… that was when I was most afraid we would fail. I was keeping watch on you, Potter. I knew you hadn't worked out the egg's clue, so I put Jack under Imperius curse to give you another hint-"

Harry's eyes widened in horror. "No, you didn't…you didn't put Jack under Imperius…"

He realized that maybe Moody had been the one to put Jack under Imperius the time the disappearance of the students…That Moody had been truly responsible to the deaths like Ms. Kringle…So that nobody would suspect Moody…

"Who told Jack to open it underwater? I did. I trusted that he would pass the information on to you after all, the Unbreakable Vow. But even then, Potter, even then you seemed likely to fail. I was watching all the time… all those hours in the library. It would be suspicious if Jack had helped you on that task. So I planted the book you needed in your dormitory, I gave it to the Longbottom boy, don't you remember? Magical Water Plants of the Mediterranean. It would have told you all you needed to know about gillyweed. I expected you to ask everyone and anyone you could for help. Longbottom would have told you in an instant. But you did not… you did not… You have a streak of pride and independence that might have ruined all.

"So what could I do? Feed you information from another innocent source. You told me at the Yule Ball a house-elf called Dobby had given you a Christmas present. I called the elf to the staffroom to collect some robes for cleaning. I staged a loud conversation with Professor McGonagall about the hostages who had been taken, and whether Potter would think to use gillyweed. And your little elf friend ran straight to Snape's office and then hurried to find you…"

Moodys wand was still pointing directly at Harry's heart. Over his shoulder, foggy shapes were moving in the Foe-Glass on the wall.

"You were so long in that lake, Potter, I thought you had drowned. I nearly blasted Jack…But luckily, Dumbledore took your idiocy for nobility, and marked you high for it. I breathed again.

"You had an easier time of it than you should have in that maze tonight, of course," said Moody. "I was patrolling around it, able to see through the outer hedges, able to curse many obstacles out of your way. I put the Imperius Curse on Krum, so that he would finish Fleur and leave your path to the cup clear, but Jack had stunned Fleur first…and I knew I had to trust Jack to make sure you're safe and for you to reach the cup first."

Harry stared at Moody. He just didn't see how this could be… Dumbledore's friend, the famous Auror… the one who had caught so many Death Eaters… It made no sense… no sense at all…

The foggy shapes in the Foe-Glass were sharpening, had become more distinct. Harry could see the outlines of three people over Moody's shoulder, moving closer and closer. But Moody wasn't watching them. His magical eye was upon Harry.

"The Dark Lord didn't manage to kill you Potter, and he so wanted to," whispered Moody. "Imagine how he will reward me when he finds I have done it for him. I gave you to him - the thing he needed above all to regenerate - and then I killed you for him. I will be honored beyond all other Death Eaters. I will be his dearest, his closest supporter… closer than Jack who claims that he's the most faithful servant of the Dark Lord like a son…"

Moody's normal eye was bulging, the magical eye fixed upon Harry. The door was barred, and Harry knew he would never reach his own wand in time…

"The Dark Lord and I," said Moody, and he looked completely insane now, towering over Harry, leering down at him, "have much in common. Both of us, for instance, had very disappointing fathers… very disappointing indeed. Both of us suffered the indignity, Harry, of being named after those fathers. And both of us had the pleasure… the very great pleasure… of killing our fathers to ensure the continued rise of the Dark Order!"

"You're mad," Harry said - he couldn't stop himself- "you're mad!"

"Mad, am I?" said Moody, his voice rising uncontrollably. "We'll see! We'll see who's mad, now that the Dark Lord has returned, with me at his side! He is back, Harry Potter, you did not conquer him - and now - I conquer you! Not Jack!"

Moody raised his wand, he opened his mouth; Harry plunged his own hand into his robes—

Then Moody was quickly stun by Dumbledore, who arrived with Snape and McGonagall. Dumbledore told Harry this man was not Alastor Moody, which Dumbledore realized when Moody took Harry from Dumbledore, something the real Moody would never do. Dumbledore had sent Snape to get a potion and fetch Winky; he also had sent McGonagall to tell a large black dog she would find at the pumpkin patch to go to his office. He then opened Moody's trunk and found the real Alastor Moody inside the seventh compartment.

Dumbledore said that the impostor had been using the Polyjuice Potion to disguise himself as Alastor Moody all year, keeping the real Moody alive so he could use his hair as an ingredient, though he suspected in the excitement of tonight the imposter forgot to take his most recent dosage. They wait until the effects wear off, revealing that the imposter was Barty Crouch Jr. just as Snape, McGonagall, and Winky arrived.

Under the effects of Snape's Veritaserum, Crouch Jr. was asked by Dumbledore how he escaped Azkaban. Crouch Jr. confessed that his father, Barty Crouch Sr. and his mother helped him escape Azkaban. His mother was dying, and it was his mother's wish that he could escape, so Barty Crouch Jr. and his mother switched places using the Polyjuice Potion. Mrs. Crouch died and was buried disguised as him, while Crouch Sr. had a private funeral for her to conceal the truth.

Barty Crouch Sr. put the Imperius Curse on his son to make sure he was controlled and out of sight. Bertha Jorkins found out when she came to their house on business while Crouch Sr. was not home, forcing Crouch Sr. to place a Memory Charm on her; this permanently damaged her memory. After Winky persuaded her master to let his son go to the Quidditch World Cup, they arranged to use an Invisibility cloak to hide Crouch Jr. as he sat in the Top Box. During this event, Crouch Jr. secretly fought the curse and stole Harry's wand when Winky wasn't looking. When the Death Eaters showed up and disrupted the tournament, Barty Crouch Jr. was angry that they weren't loyal to Voldemort. After regaining control he used Harry's wand to summon the Dark Mark, which scared the Death Eaters away. His father fired Winky for failing to watch him and almost letting him escape. He then found him and took him home.

Eventually, thanks to Bertha's information, Voldemort and Wormtail were able to find Crouch Jr. and release him from his father's imprisonment. Learning from Bertha about Alastor Moody becoming a teacher at Hogwarts, he and Wormtail captured Moody, allowing Crouch Jr. to be planted at Hogwarts as Moody, with Wormtail keeping an eye on Crouch. He kept Moody alive not only to maintain his disguise, but also learned about his habits so he could fool Dumbledore.

Harry soon learned that Crouch Jr. was the Barty Crouch Harry saw on the Marauder's Map, stealing potions ingredients from Snape's office to continue making the Polyjuice Potion. Eventually, Crouch started to fight off the Imperius curse placed upon him and was then kept under home imprisonment by Wormtail under the pretense of being unwell. He managed to escape and travel to Hogwarts to warn Dumbledore of his son's existence. However, using the Marauder's Map, Crouch Jr. was able to intercept and kill him. He then transfigured his father's body into a bone and buried it in Hagrid's yard. Crouch Jr., as Moody, then offered to take the Triwizard Cup into the maze so he could turn it into a Portkey and complete his master's plan with Jack.

Dumbledore took Harry to his office to meet Sirius, but not before placing McGonagall in charge of Crouch Jr. He also sent Snape to take Moody to the Hospital Wing and bring Cornelius Fudge up to Moody's office.

Once in Dumbledore's office, Harry told Dumbledore and Sirius everything. But when he reached the part where the golden beam of light had connected Jack's and Voldemort's wands, he found his throat obstructed. He tried to keep talking, but the memories of what had come out of Voldemort's wand were flooding into his mind. He could see Jack emerging, see the old man, Bertha Jorkins… his father… his mother…

He was glad when Sirius broke the silence.

"The wands connected?" he said, looking from Harry to Dumbledore. "Why?"

Harry looked up at Dumbledore again, on whose face there was an arrested look. "Priori Incantatem," he muttered.

His eyes gazed into Harry's and it was almost as though an invisible beam of understanding shot between them.

"The Reverse Spell effect?" said Sirius sharply.

"Exactly," said Dumbledore. "Jack's wand and Voldemorts wand share cores. Each of them contains a feather from the tail of the same phoenix. This phoenix, in fact," he added, and he pointed at the scarlet-and-gold bird, perching peacefully on Harry's knee.

"So what happens when a wand meets its brother?" said Sirius.

"They will not work properly against each other," said Dumbledore. "If, however, the owners of the wands force the wands to do battle… a very rare effect will take place. One of the wands will force the other to regurgitate spells it has performed - in reverse. The most recent first… and then those which preceded it…"

He looked interrogatively at Harry, and Harry nodded.

"Which means," said Dumbledore slowly, his eyes upon Harry's face, "that some form of Jack must have reappeared."

Harry nodded again.

"Jack came back to life?" said Sirius sharply.

"No spell can reawaken the dead," said Dumbledore heavily. "All that would have happened is a kind of reverse echo. A shadow of the living Jack would have emerged from the wand… am I correct, Harry?"

"He spoke to me," Harry said. He was suddenly shaking again. "Th… the ghost Jack, or whatever he was, spoke to me."

"An echo," said Dumbledore, "which retained Jack's appearance and character. I am guessing other such forms appeared… less recent victims of Voldemort's wand…"

"An old man," Harry said, his throat still constricted. "Bertha Jorkins. And…"

"Your parents?" said Dumbledore quietly.

"Yes," said Harry.

Sirius's grip on Harry's shoulder was now so tight it was painful.

"The last murders the wand performed," said Dumbledore, nodding. "In reverse order. More would have appeared, of course, had you maintained the connection. Very well, Harry, these echoes, these shadows… what did they do?"

Harry described how the figures that had emerged from the wand had prowled the edges of the golden web, how Voldemort had seemed to fear them, how the shadow of Harry's mother had told him what to do, how Cedric's had made its final request.

"Jack is very clever young man…he must have switch your wand with his before you touch the Cup," Dumbledore mused.

"But why?"

"He knew you would confront Voldemort, and he knew there was a chance that you'd be killed…so he switched with his wand with yours knowing that you could fight Voldemort long enough for you to escape…"

"B-but," Harry looked very confused. "W-why would Jack help me? He wanted to bring me to Voldemort…"

"Ah!" Dumbledore grinned a bit. "He knew he had to. He had made the Unbreakable Vow with Barty. Jack was not a Death Eater and was never loyal to Voldemort."

"What?"

"You see, I met a young man in America a few years back just before you first came to Hogwarts Harry. He was incredibly talented and powerful," Dumbledore smiled.

"You see Harry, I had offered Jack to come to Hogwarts when I first met him. But he had declined because he wanted to be close to his family. Then just after the Quidditch World Cup, I was walking in Hogwarts ground when I felt something strange in the forest…I had come there to find out the problem, the Centaurs told me that I could not. And they also told me that whatever was happening in the forest was dangerous, especially to the students. That no one could stop it except for one. I knew only Jack could. So I came back to America and told Jack about it. It took a few days to convince him to go to Hogwarts so that he could fix whatever problem it was in the forest.

"Soon, Jack told me about a Death Eater planning to bring back Voldemort, one of my staffs was one. I told Jack that he must make the Unbreakable Vow with a Death Eater. I knew that Jack cannot tell me the plans, but Jack had promised to make sure your safety was his number one priority, Harry." Dumbledore said. "But he would have protect you anyway, he would never want you harm, Harry. He cared people too much.

Harry could recall the times Jack had saved him…it wasn't because of Barty or for Voldemort, it was because Jack cared. Jack was worried of his safety. Not because of the Unbreakable Vow, or for Barty or for Voldemort…it was because Jack cared.

"After the First Task, Jack had told me he sensed magic in the forest growing stronger. He told me there was the Hidden Spirit in the forest…he soon learnt they were the forest spirits. Their leader needed humans to gain their strengths. Jack had offered himself," Dumbledore smiled softly. "Compassionate young man, he wanted to help those in need.

"The Forest Leader refused, said that he wanted young kids, specifically, muggleborns. Jack refused of course, said that he didn't want children harmed in any other way. But I told Jack to give the children." His blue eyes were filled with guilt. "I believed it was my fault. Jack cast a Confundus spell on the children each and led them to the forest. When he realized the Forest Leader was going to kill them, Jack managed to stop it by using his incredible magic and Gulf."

"He used Gulf?" Sirius frowned. He may not be great in Potions and not much in Herbology, but he had heard it was a very poisonous ingredient.

"Yes! Excellent young man, of course their leader had drained a lot of Jack's magic that caused him to be quiet ill. It is a miracle he's still alive. He had managed to save a lot of students, but I am afraid he couldn't save Ms. Kringle. I had managed to convince the Ministry that Jack was innocent and that I knew that without him, the students of Hogwarts wouldn't be here alive today."

Harry bit his lip. This was a lot to take in. After all this time he thought that Jack was involve with Voldemort, he was actually working with Dumbledore.

"But sir, what about his Dark Mark?" Harry asked hesitantly. "Voldemort said that Jack had made it."

"Oh no! Jack had never made the Dark Mark. He is a brilliant young man, but not even he could make one. He had the Dark Mark when he was a baby."

"He was that young?" Sirius said incredulously.

"Yes, but rest assure Jack would never be loyal to Voldemort." Dumbledore said. "Jack is actually a spy for us. But poor Jack…"'

"What about when he sneak out a few nights a month ago?" Harry asked.

"I believe that is a story for another time. Now, you will come with me to the hospital wing. I do not want you returning to the dormitory tonight. A Sleeping Potion, and some peace… Sirius, would you like to stay with him?"

After Sirius transformed back into a dog they head to the Hospital Wing, where Harry was given a Sleeping Potion to help him relax.

Upon waking up, he, along with Molly and Bill Weasley, heard a large argument. Fudge summoned a Dementor as protection when he went to confront Crouch Jr., which sucked out Crouch Jr.'s soul before he, McGonagall, Snape, and Dumbledore entered the hospital wing. Dumbledore was disturbed that they lost a key piece of evidence on Voldemort's return, while Fudge believed the man was a lunatic and that his testimony would not have been useful.

Due to reading Rita Skeeter's last article about Harry being dangerous, Fudge cannot accept Harry's testimony, nor does he believe Dumbledore's information about Harry's scar. Harry gets up and tried to identify the Death Eaters whose names he heard earlier, but Fudge points out they were cleared long ago and he might have read this out of an old Daily Prophet article. Fudge was offended by Dumbledore's suggestions of removing the Dementors from Azkaban and sending an envoy to make an agreement with the giants. Even after Snape revealed his Dark Mark and explained that Voldemort had summoned him, Fudge thought it was some kind of a ploy and makes it clear that he was going to have a serious talk with Dumbledore about his position before he left. He then exit the room, but not before he gave Harry his winnings from the Tournament.

Bill Weasley left at Dumbledore's request to inform his father of the situation and have him discreetly contact those within the Ministry that can be convinced of the truth. McGonagall was sent to retrieve Hagrid and Madame Maxime for a mission. After Madam Pomfrey was sent to look after Winky, Dumbledore has Sirus revert to his true form. Both Mrs. Weasley and Snape were surprised by his presence, but were quickly convinced of his innocence. Dumbledore dispatched Sirius to reinstate the Order of the Phoenix by gathering known wizards and witches who would support their side.

"Headmaster, can I talk to you? Alone." Harry added, glancing at Mrs. Weasley.

Mrs. Weasley left the room, leaving Harry and Dumbledore looking at each other.

"Jack was a spy?" Harry asked.

"Yes."

"Why? I mean, you said that you brought Jack here to fix the Forest problem…how did Jack suddenly pretend to be a Death Eater?"

It sounded odd if anyone had thought of it. How did Jack got himself into this? And looked what happened? Guilt formed in Harry, Jack had protected him right from the beginning, and had given him his wand knowing that he could be defenseless. And that Jack knew that he might die at Graveyard, but the only thing Jack could think of was helping Harry escape alive and not for himself. For a Slytherin, he was very brave.

Then he remembered Jack's words just before Harry touched the cup…

"I'm not cruel. I don't like people being biased against the Slytherins. You folks think we're evil and want to dominate the world or something. I want to prove you wrong. Not all of us are black and white, there are grey areas too. You can't just proclaim that Slytherins are evil just because there are dark wizards there. Ambition and cunning is a virtue. Not evil. Not all Slytherins are evil."

"I asked him," Dumbledore sighed, his eyes tired, interrupting Harry's thoughts. "I asked him to spy for us when he learnt there was a Death Eater in the midst. So I told him that he must convince the other Death Eater that he is still loyal to Voldemort and he wants to help bring back Voldemort."

"You wanted Voldemort to be back?!" Harry gaped.

"Yes, I thought it was time for him to be back. So I allowed it."

"Why?!" Harry demanded.

"I knew Voldemort was going to be back soon." Dumbledore said. "If I let Voldemort into hiding longer, he would have gain more allies and power…I do not wish the danger to be brought so quickly like this. Only you Harry could do this."

"What do you mean?"

"Harry, I owe you an explanation," said Dumbledore. "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

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

"Yes," said Dumbledore apologetically. "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."

"But…I felt my scar hurt when I saw Jack, sometimes." Harry said hesitantly.

"Oh! That was because of Jack's blood."

"His blood?" Harry looked confused. Then he recalled Voldemort had asked Jack something about his blood.

"That is a story for another time, let's just say Jack is a very special and has unique abilities." Dumbledore looked up at him, "There is something that I should have told you four years ago, Harry."

Harry stared at him.

"Four 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."

Dumbledore paused. Harry said nothing.

"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 than 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 shook his head. "She doesn't give a damn -"

"But she took you," Dumbledore cut across him. "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."

"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, while 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 fourteen years."

Harry shook his head, almost as if he didn't want to believe it. But it made sense why he had stayed with the Dursleys.

"Five years ago, then," Dumbledore said. "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," said Dumbledore. "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 it. 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 and from his ritual."

"I don't understand what you're saying," said Harry.

"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?"

Harry stared into the blue eyes and said nothing, but his heart was racing again.

"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 than 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," said Dumbledore 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 can 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…"

"When Jack first came to Hogwarts, he had convinced me that we must defeat Voldemort quick, despite that he care the safety and the happiness of all the people he knew. He knew that it was better that Voldemort must be vanquished at all cost. He didn't want to burden you, Harry…but he was more worried of the safety of his family and fear the danger he might bring them. He made me realize the flaws of my plan and he convinced me just before the Final Task that I must tell you what I should have told you four years ago. I knew Voldemort would be back just after the maze, and I must do it now. I know 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 as ever passed through this school and I could not bring myself to add another - the greatest one of all."

Harry waited, but Dumbledore did not speak.

"I still don't understand."

"Voldemort tried to kill you when you were a child because of a prophecy made shortly before your birth. He knew the prophecy had been made, though he did not know its full contents. 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, I can imagine now that he has return today after your extraordinary escape, I can see he would be determined to hear that prophecy in its entirety. I believe he would seek knowledge of how to destroy you, Harry.

"So what's the prophecy said?"

"Fifteen years ago, on a cold, wet night, 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 pulled out a small glass sphere that glowed with a dull inner light. He pulled out his wand and did a lot of complicated wand movements before the sphere seemed to open up and a fog came out of it. Then there was harsh, hoarse tones. Harry realized it was Sibyll Trelawney's voice, and he had only heard her use once that tone…

"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…"

Then soon, the silver mass of fog vanished inside the glass sphere and the lid snapped itself shut. Neither Dumbledore nor Harry made a sound.

"Professor Dumbledore?" Harry said very quietly, for Dumbledore, still staring at the Pensieve, seemed completely lost in thought. "It… did that mean… what did that mean?"

"It meant," said Dumbledore, "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."

Harry felt as though something was closing in on him. His breathing seemed difficult again.

"It means - me?"

Dumbledore surveyed him for a moment through his glasses.

"The odd thing, Harry," he said softly, "is that it may not have meant you at all. Sibyll'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."

"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," said Dumbledore. "It seemed plain to the keeper of the Hall of Prophecy that Voldemort could only have tried to kill you because he knew you to be the one to whom Sibyll was referring."

"Then - it might not be me?" said Harry

"I am afraid," said Dumbledore slowly, looking as though every word cost him a great effort, "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 blessing and curse."

"But he might have chosen wrong!" said Harry. "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 three times so far."

"Why did he do it, then?" said Harry, who felt numb and cold. "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," said Dumbledore, "except that Voldemort's information about the prophecy was incomplete. The Hog's Head inn, which Sibyll 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 overheard. Of course, I had not dreamed, when I set out to meet Sibyll 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 Voldemort 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!" said Harry, in a strangled voice. "I haven't any powers he hasn't got, I only got lucky today…"

"It was your heart that saved you Harry."

Harry closed his eyes, still a bit shocked of Jack's death. "The end of the prophecy... it was something about neither... can live..."

"… while the other survives," said Dumbledore.

"So," said Harry, dredging up the words from what felt like a deep well of despair inside him, "so does that mean that… that one of us has got to kill the other one… in the end?"

"Yes," said Dumbledore.

That was what Dumbledore told him, Harry shook his head. He looked at Ron and Hermione, they were still talking of course. They knew Harry was lost in his thoughts. He looked out the window and hear the train once again whistled. He thought back what happened yesterday…

Harry returned to Gryffindor Tower the following evening after he got rest in the infirmary. From what Hermione and Ron told him, Dumbledore had spoken to the school that morning at breakfast. He had merely requested that they leave Harry alone, that nobody ask him questions or badger him to tell the story of what had happened in the maze. Most people, he noticed, were skirting him in the corridors, avoiding his eyes. Some whispered behind their hands as he passed. He had also noticed most of the Slytherins were the most annoying ones with their looks. He guessed that many of them had believed Rita Skeeter's article about how disturbed and possibly dangerous he was. Perhaps they were formulating their own theories about how Jack had died. He found he didn't care very much. He liked it best when he was with Ron and Hermione and they were talking about other things, or else letting him sit in silence while they played chess. He felt as though all three of them had reached an understanding they didn't need to put into words; that each was waiting for some sign, some word, of what was going on outside Hogwarts - and that it was useless to speculate about what might be coming until they knew anything for certain. The only time they touched upon the subject was when Ron told Harry about a meeting Mrs. Weasley had had with Dumbledore before going home.

"She went to ask him if you could come straight to us this summer," he said. "But he wants you to go back to the Dursleys, at least at first."

Harry sighed and then nodded. He already knew why Dumbledore had sent him with the Dursleys in the first place.

The only person apart from Ron and Hermione that Harry felt able to talk to was Hagrid. As there was no longer a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, they had those lessons free. They used the one on Thursday afternoon to go down and visit Hagrid in his cabin. It was a bright and sunny day; Fang bounded out of the open door as they approached, barking and wagging his tail madly.

"Who's that?" called Hagrid, coming to the door. He had tears in his eyes. "Harry!"

He strode out to meet them, pulled Harry into a one-armed hug, ruffled his hair, and said, "Good ter see yeh, mate. Good ter see yeh." Harry knew that Hagrid had been crying a bit because Harry had notice few months ago Jack had loved to help with Hagrid and Jack would usually come over for tea.

When he, Ron, and Hermione entered the Hall, they saw at once that the usual decorations were missing. The Great Hall was normally decorated with the winning House's colors for the Leaving Feast. Tonight, however, there were black drapes on the wall behind the teachers' table.

Harry knew instantly that they were there as a mark of respect to Jack.

The real Mad-Eye Moody was at the staff table now, his wooden leg and his magical eye back in place. He was extremely twitchy, jumping every time someone spoke to him. Harry couldn't blame him; Moodys fear of attack was bound to have been increased by his ten-month imprisonment in his own trunk. Professor Karkaroff s chair was empty. Harry wondered, as he sat down with the other Gryffindors, where Karkaroff was now, and whether Voldemort had caught up with him.

Madame Maxime was still there. She was sitting next to Hagrid. They were talking quietly together. Further along the table, sitting next to Professor McGonagall, was Snape. His eyes lingered on Harry for a moment as Harry looked at him. His expression was difficult to read. He looked as sour and unpleasant as ever. Harry continued to watch him, long after Snape had looked away.

Harry's musings were ended by Professor Dumbledore, who stood up at the staff table. The Great Hall, which in any case had been less noisy than it usually was at the Leaving Feast, became very quiet.

"The end," said Dumbledore, looking around at them all, "of another year."

He paused, and his eyes fell upon the Slytherin table. He got to his feet, and theirs were still the saddest and palest faces in the Hall. But they had tried to hide it with their indifferent look. Slytherins, Harry thought.

"There is much that I would like to say to you all tonight," said Dumbledore, "but I must first acknowledge the loss of a very fine person, who should be sitting here," he gestured toward the Slytherins, "enjoying our feast with us. I would like you all, please, to stand, and raise your glasses, to Jack Black."

They did it, all of them; the benches scraped as everyone in the Hall stood, and raised their goblets, and echoed, in one loud, low, rumbling voice, "Jack Black."

Harry caught a glimpse of Jack's friends thought the crowd. Daphne's cheeks were red, and Theo had his arm wrapped around her. They both had tried to hide their grief and were probably the one who was affected the loss of Jack the most. Pansy had tears in her eyes but was quickly blinking them away, Draco looked like he was ignoring everyone and had his fists clenched if you looked closely, Goyle and Crabbe tried to look like they weren't much affected but there was a hint of sadness in their eyes.

Harry looked down at the table as they all sat down again.

"Jack was a person who exemplified many of the qualities that distinguish Slytherin house," Dumbledore continued. "He was ambitious and cunning, but he does have many qualities of other houses such as loyalty, kindness, compassion, courageous, brilliant young mind. He valued fair play, and he prove to you he is a decent Slytherin." He chuckled a bit.

The students looked surprised.

"His determination to rescue a student whether he knew them or not, he still cared." Dumbledore sighed. "His death has affected you all, whether you knew him well or not. I think that you have the right, therefore, to know exactly how it came about."

Harry raised his head and stared at Dumbledore.

"Jack Black was murdered by Lord Voldemort."

A panicked whisper swept the Great Hall. People were staring at Dumbledore in disbelief, in horror. He looked perfectly calm as he watched them mutter themselves into silence.

"The Ministry of Magic," Dumbledore continued, "does not wish me to tell you this. It is possible that some of your parents will be horrified that I have done so - either because they will not believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, or because they think I should not tell you so, young as you are. It is my belief, however, that the truth is generally preferable to lies, and that any attempt to pretend that Jack died as the result of an accident, or some sort of blunder of his own, is an insult to his memory."

Stunned and frightened, every face in the Hall was turned toward Dumbledore now… or almost every face. Over at the Slytherin table Harry saw Draco Malfoy had looked up in almost panic, then he looked at his friends.

"There is somebody else who must be mentioned in connection with Jack's death," Dumbledore went on. "I am talking, of course, about Harry Potter."

A kind of ripple crossed the Great Hall as a few heads turned in Harry's direction before flicking back to face Dumbledore.

"Harry Potter managed to escape Lord Voldemort," said Dumbledore. "Jack had helped Harry's escape, knowing that there is no hope for him to survive against Voldemort. Harry risked his own life to return Jack's body to Hogwarts. He showed, in every respect, the sort of bravery that few wizards have ever shown in facing Lord Voldemort, and for this, I honor him and Jack."

Dumbledore turned gravely to Harry and raised his goblet once more. Nearly everyone in the Great Hall followed suit. They murmured his name, as they had murmured Jack's, and drank to him. But through a gap in the standing figures.

Harry saw that most of the Slytherins looked conflicted for a moment. Daphne, Theo, Pansy touched their goblets first. Draco had hesitantly touched the cup before he drank it, and Crabbe and Goyle followed. Soon, the rest of the Slytherins followed them. They had respected Jack in many ways.

When everyone had once again resumed their seats, Dumbledore continued, "The Triwizard Tournament's aim was to further and promote magical understanding. In the light of what has happened - of Lord Voldemorts return - such ties are more important than ever before."

Dumbledore looked from Madame Maxime and Hagrid, to Fleur Delacour and her fellow Beauxbatons students, to Viktor Krum and the Durmstrangs at the Slytherin table. Krum, Harry saw, looked wary, almost frightened, as though he expected Dumbledore to say something harsh.

"Every guest in this Hall," said Dumbledore, and his eyes lingered upon the Durmstrang students, "will be welcomed back here at any time, should they wish to come. I say to you all, once again - in the light of Lord Voldemort's return, we are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided. Lord Voldemorts gift for spreading discord and enmity is very great. We can fight it only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust. Differences of habit and language are nothing at all if our aims are identical and our hearts are open.

"It is my belief - and never have I so hoped that I am mistaken - that we are all facing dark and difficult times. Some of you in this Hall have already suffered directly at the hands of Lord Voldemort. Many of your families have been torn asunder. A week ago, a student was taken from our midst.

"Remember Jack. Remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was cunning, good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort. Remember Jack Black."

Harry closed his eyes, shaking his head. He then went back to the last conversation he and Dumbledore had…

Harry sat on the edge of his bed. His things were all packed inside his trunk. The room was empty, his roommates had went downstairs and they could sense Harry wanted to be alone. Emerald eyes stayed at the wand he was holding.

Jack's wand.

Harry looked up when he heard footsteps. He saw Dumbledore standing next to him.

"Sir…what about his wand?" Harry hesitantly asked as he held up Jack's wand. Harry had lost his wand and knew that he needed to buy one from Ollivanders.

"Keep it."

"W-what?"

"Ollivander once told me the wand chooses the wizard…" Dumbledore smiled. "I believe Jack's wand has chosen you."

"But sir…"

"Nonsense Harry, I believe Jack would want you to keep his ever since he switched his wand with yours."

Harry looked down at Jack's wand that was now his. When he held it, he felt the same warmth when Harry held his first wand at Ollivanders.

He vowed to bring down Voldemort in the memory of Jack and the people Voldemort hurt.

For everyone.

Author's Note: Tada! The End of The Hidden Spirit. And fitting that I updated at Halloween ;) I would like to say thank you guys for all the reviews, follows, and favourites and every one of you who read this. I had fun planning this and I can't believe it has finally ended. I want to especially thank "Insane PJO LOver" and his lovely story "A Frosted Hogwarts" which gave me an inspiration in the first place. Thanks so much guys!

Is there a sequel? As Dumbledore says "That is a story for another time". I do have plans and have been dropping hints throughout the chapter to make sense of the sequel, but whether I get around it, I don't know.

Created Date: 5/30/15 (1:37 PM)
Finished Date: 5/31/15 (2:49 PM)