Chapter 1, in which new friends are made and prophecies are discussed

Friday 14 June 1996

At Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry a young man wandered listlessly down an ill-lit corridor. After the events of the last year, and the last few days in particular, Harry Potter was pleased that the term was finally coming to an end, although less pleased that this meant he would be going "home" to his relatives for the summer. The last time he had seen the Dursleys was the previous August, and they had not been speaking to him at the time following the dementor attack on Harry and his cousin Dudley. He doubted whether nine months' absence would have made any of their hearts grow fonder at the thought of his return.

Harry knew that this summer he wouldn't even be able to hold the threat of his godfather over them. At the thought of Sirius, Harry came to a stop and took several deep breaths. A week had passed since he had watched Sirius fall through the veil in the Department of Mysteries, and he had finally accepted that Sirius was really gone. Luna's comments before the leaving feast earlier in the evening had been oddly reassuring, but every time he thought of his godfather Harry's chest tightened and he found himself on the verge of tears. He was well aware that he hadn't known Sirius as well as he would have liked, and he would now never have the chance.

He also couldn't help thinking about Remus Lupin, who had now lost his last school friend for a second time, and he resolved to do his best to build a friendship with him if possible. Remus was the last link to Harry's parents, had been one of their best friends, and Harry was ashamed that he had not made more of an effort over the past two years to keep in contact with him. He knew that Remus was a reserved man, burdened by his lycanthropy, and Harry was determined to break through this and let Remus know that he would like to get to know him better. Assuming that Remus wanted to talk to him and didn't blame him for Sirius's death.

Feeling calmer Harry continued down the corridor, heading back towards Gryffindor Tower, when he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. A classroom door opened and as he began to turn he was hit by a petrificus totalus jinx and quickly levitated into the room. The door closed behind him and he heard a soft "colloportus" followed by a squelching sound, telling him that the door had been magically locked.

Desperately trying to break free of the petrifying jinx, as he was gently leaned against a wall Harry was surprised at the identity of his attackers. The green and silver-trimmed Slytherin robes weren't a surprise, as he had immediately suspected a sneak attack by Draco Malfoy, but their wearers were. Harry recognised Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis, two Slytherins from his year with whom he couldn't recall ever speaking. Nor were they among the small crowd of sycophantic followers that could usually be found hanging on Malfoy's every word and who had formed the majority of Dolores Umbridge's Inquisitorial Squad.

"Sorry about this, Potter" said Daphne. "We wanted to speak to you alone and this seemed the easiest way to do it without drawing attention to ourselves. We don't mean you any harm. Tracey is going to release you, and we hope you'll hear us out."

A quick "finite incantatum" and Harry was able to move again. He straightened up, glaring at the two girls. "There was no need to petrify me," he snapped irritably, although he was more annoyed with himself than with the two girls. They had petrified him before he'd even drawn his wand and he was uncomfortably aware that he couldn't afford to let his guard down like that.

"So," continued Harry, "what was so important that . . ."

He never completed the sentence. The classroom door slammed open and a figure dived through. A cry of "stupefy", a flash of red light and Daphne slumped to the floor, stunned. Both Harry and Tracey took cover behind the teacher's desk at the front of the room, while the intruder had tipped over a desk at the back of the classroom and was sheltering behind that.

"On three, you go left, I'll go right" whispered Harry. "He won't have time to get both of us and keep a shield up, and at least one of us can get him with a stunner."

Tracey looked rather shaken but nodded, and on Harry's hissed "three" the two students jumped up and ran towards their still unidentified assailant. A stunner missed Tracey as she moved forward, but both her and Harry's stunners hit their target as they rounded the makeshift barricade and the figure, in students' robes, collapsed.

Harry rolled him over, and was startled to recognise Justin Finch-Fletchley, another of his year-mates and a member of the Defence Association. He refused to even think the name 'Dumbledore's Army', not having spoken to the Headmaster in the week since he had been told the prophecy and destroyed the aged wizard's office.

A quick "enervate" and Justin sat up with a groan, rubbing his head. Harry heard another "enervate" behind him and turned to see Tracey helping Daphne to her feet.

"Right," said Harry, "what the hell is going on here? Justin, why did you attack us?"

"I wasn't attacking you, Harry" protested Justin. "I turned the corner at the top of the Charms corridor and saw you being hit with a petrifying jinx and levitated in here. I assumed you were in trouble and came to help. If I'd realised it was just two witches dragging you into an empty classroom to have their wicked way with you I'd have left well enough alone" continued Justin with a smirk. "Sorry Daphne, Tracey" he apologised as he turned to the two Slytherins.

"What?" exclaimed Harry, blushing heavily as he was hit by the import of the grinning Hufflepuff's words. "No, that's not why they . . ." he began, but trailed off and looked at the girls suspiciously. "Is that why you brought me in here?"

"No," Daphne almost shouted, looking as flustered as Harry could ever recall seeing her. "We just wanted to talk to you without drawing attention to ourselves."

"So if I hadn't burst in, Harry wouldn't have woken from the petrifaction naked, covered in chocolate sauce, and seen you two dressed only in skimpy lingerie getting ready to lick him clean?" asked Justin, raising an eyebrow in apparent disbelief.

Harry stared speechlessly at Justin, before turning back to the girls. Tracey seemed to be taking the conversation in her stride, and as she saw Harry turn to her she slowly licked her lips. Harry was now bright red, although there was also a competing demand for blood from a different part of his body as he involuntarily imagined the scene described by Justin.

Daphne, though, was as red as Harry knew himself to be. She seemed to have forgotten that Harry had, in fact, been unpetrified before Justin burst in, and began to stammer out a denial. "We wouldn't do that, well Tracey wouldn't," she rambled "and I don't like chocolate, I prefer raspberry syrup. And I'm not wearing . . ." she came to an abrupt halt as her brain caught up with what she'd said. "Oh God, kill me now" she said tremulously and turned away from the now open-mouthed Harry.

Tracey sighed, and gently turned Daphne back to face Harry and Justin.

"I'm sorry Daphne" said Justin contritely. "I was only joking, I didn't mean to embarrass you quite like that."

Daphne visibly composed herself and glared at the two youths, but apparently didn't trust herself to speak.

"Close your mouth, Potter" said Tracey, still smiling slightly. "Let's get back to where we were before we were so rudely interrupted".

Justin opened his mouth, but closed it quickly when Daphne pointed her wand at him.

"Right," said Tracey, "as we were about to explain, we'd like to speak to you about You-Know-Who".

"Call him 'Voldemort'" said Harry, rolling his eyes at the shivers that ran through the two girls," or if you can't manage that then call him by his real name, 'Tom Riddle'."

"Tom Riddle?" questioned Daphne.

"You don't really think his parents named him 'Voldemort' do you?" said Harry. "I know that most of the wizarding world seems to have a blind spot when it comes to naming children, but come on! And would 'Voldemort' be a first name or a surname? Did you think his real name might be Voldemort Smith, or John Voldemort?"

"I've never really thought about it" said Tracey sheepishly. "But 'Riddle' isn't a name I recognise. Is he not British?"

"You don't recognise it because it's not a pureblood name" said Harry with a shrug. "He's not a pureblood. His father was a muggle." He drew his wand and wrote 'Tom Marvolo Riddle' in the air, as the shade of a 16-year-old Voldemort had done in the Chamber of Secrets, and rearranged the letters to form the words 'I am Lord Voldemort'.

Daphne eyed the anagram thoughtfully. "So his mother was a witch?" she asked Harry.

"So he told me" Harry replied.

"You've had friendly chats with You-Know . . .er, Riddle, about his parents?" asked Tracey incredulously.

"A younger version" admitted Harry, "and he thought he was about to kill me at the time". Receiving three confused looks he sighed and said "I'll explain another time, if you're interested. Or show you in a pensieve if I can get hold of one."

"I'm interested" said Daphne. "I'd like to know who he really is. If he's not really a British pureblood I can't see why so many of the rest of them follow him."

"He said that the 'Marvolo' in his name came from his grandfather" said Harry. "Is there a pureblood family called 'Marvolo'?"

"I don't think so," said Daphne, "but unless they've been important recently or got kids our age I probably wouldn't know. My mum's really into wizarding genealogy, though. I'll ask her, if you like."

Harry crossed his arms and looked at Daphne and Tracey speculatively. "Not being funny or anything" he said, "but I'm finding this conversation a little surreal. As far as I can remember I've never spoken to either of you in the past five years. Now, in the week after Voldemort is finally acknowledged to be back I'm approached by two members of his old House, housemates of people who claim to be followers of his, who are acting very friendly and are offering me help in tracing his family tree. You'll forgive me if I'm a little suspicious of your motives here."

"Fair point," acknowledged Tracey. "If you'll stop interrupting and let us explain, though, I hope that we can at least give you something to think about, even if you're not actually prepared to trust us on anything." She pulled out a chair and sat down. "Sit down, and we'll tell you why we dragged you in here."

Harry and Daphne pulled out chairs of their own and settled down. Justin looked at the three seated students. "Do you want me to leave?" he asked tentatively.

"You'll only badger us about it incessantly if you do," sighed Tracey, "so you might as well stay." She looked at Harry and explained "We've had to put up with him annoying us for three years in Ancient Runes. He's like an over-exuberant puppy, really."

Justin grinned. "I've gradually worn them down with my good looks and charm. They hardly bother to even hex me any more."

"That can change very quickly" muttered Daphne darkly, apparently still annoyed by Justin's earlier 'seduction of Harry' scenario.

"OK" said Tracey. "Harry, what do you know about the politics in Slytherin at the moment."

Harry looked at her blankly. "What politics?"

Tracey and Daphne sighed in unison. "We thought as much" said Tracey. "Slytherin tends to attract ambitious types, and so Slytherins spend much of their school years making alliances and agreements that will serve them well in the future. The other three houses, in the main, distrust all Slytherins on principle so we keep ourselves to ourselves. Inevitably there will be one or two Slytherins at any one time who are powerful enough, or influential enough, that the rest of the house follows them, or at least doesn't actively oppose them."

"When Juno Culpepper left at the end of our second year" Daphne continued, "she left a vacuum behind. No-one really filled it during our third year, but in our fourth year Draco Malfoy started to push himself forward as the main power in Slytherin. Normally he wouldn't have got very far, since magically he isn't particularly powerful and he has all the cunning of a dead slug. But his father was practically running the Ministry, had Cornelius Fudge in his pocket, and he is extremely wealthy. Since no-one else wanted to go up against Lucius Malfoy, Draco took control by default."

"That's not to say he had it all his own way" interrupted Tracey. "Whatever the other houses might think, all Slytherins are not evil Dark Lords-in-waiting. But we are pragmatic and so we paid lip-service to Draco's anti-Potter, pro-kill all the non- purebloods agenda while generally ignoring him. Even this year, when the rumours of Riddle's return became harder to ignore and Umbridge put him in charge of her Inquisitorial Squad, there were very few who wanted to support him."

"After all", Daphne picked up again, "Slytherins are ambitious. There's no ambition in wanting to become the marked slave of a psychopath who tortures people for fun. When he first rose in the 70s, Riddle concentrated his recruiting efforts on Slytherins. More of them refused to join him than became Death Eaters. And he killed them for their refusals. Most of us in Slytherin are missing family members that he killed last time around."

"Slytherins are also usually pretty intelligent" said Tracey. "We might be proud to be purebloods, but we also recognise the danger of in-breeding and aren't wedded to the idea that we can only marry other purebloods. Without muggleborns bringing new blood into the wizarding world we won't last very long. And although we also believe in tradition, it's becoming more and more obvious that the muggles are leaving us behind in terms of technology and innovation. If the wizarding world as a whole doesn't start to embrace change, we'll be left behind as irrelevant. There's no way that Riddle can "kill all the muggles", and if he tries they'll find out about us and kill us instead."

"So most Slytherins, including us, would be quite happy to see Riddle defeated again" concluded Daphne. "We just wanted to let you know that you have a lot of general support in Slytherin. Draco, now that Lucius has been arrested as a Death Eater, has almost no support. As Tracey said, he's not magically powerful and is a thoroughly unpleasant, nasty piece of work. He's still got money, but so have a lot of us, and without the threat of Lucius in the background his only supporters are those who genuinely follow, or want to follow, Riddle."

Harry sat quietly for a few moments, trying to absorb everything that the girls had told him. It all rang true, and he had to admit that apart from Malfoy and his followers the only trouble he'd had from Slytherins over the years had been Quidditch related and probably had nothing to do with Voldemort. He doubted that Voldemort was a secret Quidditch fanatic, desperate to see his old house win the Quidditch Cup at any cost.

"This is all very interesting" he said honestly," but why tell me this? If you as a house, or your families, want to go against Voldemort you don't need me to do it. Dumbledore," he continued distastefully at the mention of the Headmaster's name, "would be pleased to get more support, especially from people traditionally seen as 'dark'."

"That's the problem," said Tracey. "He would, but only on his terms. Most Slytherins, and their families, don't trust Dumbledore. He's done some very strange things over the years, and made some very strange decisions. And he's never been willing to explain any of them."

"My dad went to him in the 1970s and offered him help after Riddle murdered my uncle" said Daphne. "He was invited to some meetings of Dumbledore's anti-Riddle group, but never joined. He told me that everyone had to do what they were told by Dumbledore, no questions asked. There were no discussions of tactics, or of the information gathered by the group. Everything was decided by Dumbledore on his own. He first thought that this was because he hadn't actually joined up, but he asked around and even those who'd been members for years said that it was always like that. Dumbledore was in charge, and that was it. He never went back."

This sounded eerily familiar to Harry. Dumbledore had never answered any of his own questions until recent events had forced him to disclose the contents of the prophecy. And it wasn't just because of his age; none of the other members of the Order knew about either, as far as he was aware. Dumbledore had never told him, or anyone else, why he trusted Snape, or why he let the potions professor get away with his biased behaviour towards Slytherin and his blatantly unfair treatment of the other houses.

Harry also didn't consider Dumbledore to be as omniscient or all-powerful as the Order did. He hadn't known about the Marauders' animagus forms, he hadn't known that Peter Pettigrew had spent seven years at Hogwarts as a rat, or that Voldemort had been possessing Quirrell for a year. He hadn't been able to find the Chamber of Secrets, or realised that the monster of Slytherin was a basilisk. He hadn't been able to keep dementors out of the school. He hadn't been able to keep Harry's name out of the Goblet of Fire, or realised that one of his oldest friends was actually a polyjuiced imposter. He hadn't been able to keep Umbridge from torturing students. And by ignoring Harry for a year and not telling him about the prophecy he had directly contributed to the death of Sirius.

Harry nodded. "You're right", he agreed. "Dumbledore isn't infallible. Far from it. He's made some very poor decisions where I'm concerned. And he doesn't listen to any views that disagree with his own. If he thinks he's right, that's the end of it, no arguments."

"Exactly" said Tracey. "To be blunt, no-one with any intelligence should follow someone without question. If you don't understand why a decision has been made, or why a course of action has been decided upon, how do you know it's right? I accept that some things have to be taken on trust, but it still shouldn't come down to one person. You should at least be sure that something's been discussed and agreed by other people, even if you're not one of them, so you can make your decision based on your assessment of the competence of those people. Blind trust is dangerous, especially when you know that the person you're trusting has made mistakes in the past."

"That still doesn't explain why you're telling me this", said Harry. "I'm not Dumbledore. I'm a fifteen year old schoolboy."

"At the moment," said Daphne. "You won't always be. We're thinking long-term. For the next couple of years you'll be the most influential student in Hogwarts. After you leave, presumably with good exam results since you spend so much time with Hermione Granger, you'll be one of the wealthiest and most powerful wizards of our generation. Like it or not, and we know you don't like the attention you get as "the boy who lived", you will have a great deal of influence over the next hundred and fifty years. Moreso if the Prophet has actually got it right for once and you really are "The Chosen One" she concluded with a laugh.

Harry felt the blood rush from his face. "Chosen One" he whispered. "How did they . . . I mean, what have they said about me?"

The other three, who had joined in Daphne's laughter, had quietened at Harry's reaction. "Bloody Hell," said Justin. "You mean the Prophet is right?"

Harry steeled himself. "What have they said about me?" he repeated.

"Well, not much actually," said Daphne nervously. "Today's issue says that you, Granger, two Weasleys, Longbottom and Luna Lovegood duelled Death Eaters in the Hall of Prophecies in the Department of Mysteries. It speculates that You-Know-Who was after a prophecy and that this prophecy says that you are the person destined to kill him. But the Ministry denies that there is a Hall of Prophecies, or that there's a prophecy about you and You-Know . . . Riddle, or that the people you duelled are Death Eaters. If they could get away with it they'd probably deny that any of you were there, including Riddle, and deny the existence of the Ministry of Magic for good measure" she finished angrily.

Harry took several deep breaths. "But it's just speculation, right?" he asked. "They don't have any evidence?"

"No they don't," confirmed Tracey. "You might want to work on your reaction to being asked about it, though. You've as good as told us that the Prophet's right."

"But we won't tell anyone," Daphne assured him. "Will we?" she snapped at Tracey and Justin.

"Your secret's safe with me" said Justin.

"And me," echoed Tracey.

"Who else knows?" asked Daphne. "And are you planning to tell anyone else? Are there any reasons to keep it secret, bearing in mind the Prophet's read by most of the wizarding population of the UK, the majority of whom will believe it simply because it's in the paper."

Harry was thinking furiously. As Tracey had said, his reaction had confirmed the truth, at least to the limited extent of Harry being "the Chosen One". Thankfully the details of the prophecy seemed still to be unknown. But Voldemort thought the prophecy had been destroyed, and didn't know that Harry had heard it. He would treat the Prophet's speculation as just that; speculation. If Harry announced that he was indeed the Chosen One, though, Voldemort would realise that Harry knew the prophecy. This in itself wasn't a problem – Voldemort wanted to kill him whether he knew the prophecy or not. And the very fact that Voldemort didn't know the prophecy might actually make him cautious in his future dealings with Harry. He might not want to risk another attempt to kill Harry in case this was precisely the chain of events prophecised which would lead to his defeat. But if Voldemort thought that Harry's friends knew the prophecy they had no such protection.

"There are good reasons to keep it secret" Harry finally admitted. He explained his reasoning and Tracey nodded thoughtfully.

"You're right" she agreed. "As long as Riddle thinks you don't know it, you and your friends are in no more danger than you were before."

"Can you really believe it, though?" asked Justin doubtfully. "I've sat through the same divination lessons you have over the past three years, and the whole subject seems very . . . dubious" he concluded.

"Trelawney's a fraud" stated Daphne. "But that doesn't mean that all divination is worthless. If there really is a Hall of Prophecies in the Department of Mysteries, a lot of people must think that prophecies, at least, can be genuine."

"There is a Hall of Prophecies" confirmed Harry, not wanting to discuss Trelawney's role in all of this. "Or rather, there was. We smashed thousands of them trying to get away from the Death Eaters."

"Smashed?" asked Justin in confusion. "How can you smash a prophecy?"

"Each prophecy is recorded in a glass ball" explained Harry. "Apparently only the people who the prophecies relate to can remove the balls from the shelves. But we tipped a lot of the shelves over and thousands of them smashed."

"Right" said Tracey. "So Riddle and his Death Eaters know there was a prophecy about you and him. But they don't know what it said, and they know that it was smashed. Any they don't know that you know what it says."

"That's right" replied Harry.

"So who else knows that this prophecy exists, and who knows what it actually says?" asked Tracey.

"I'm not sure" admitted Harry. "The Headmaster knew it existed, and he had some of his . . . friends . . . on guard duty in the Ministry to try and protect it. But I don't know if they knew exactly what they were guarding. Dumbledore is very good at not telling people things that he doesn't think they need to know" he finished bitterly.

"Even if they didn't know, or suspect, before, they probably do now, especially if you actually wrecked the Hall of Prophecies" said Daphne.

"The Death Eaters were shouting about it" agreed Harry. "Dumbledore's people must be aware of it."

"What about Ron, Hermione and the others who were with you?" asked Justin.

"They all know that there was a prophecy" said Harry, "but they know it was smashed and don't know that I know what is says. As far as I know, only Dumbledore and I know the contents."

There was silence as the teens considered the import of Harry's revelations.

"I notice that you haven't asked me what the prophecy says" said Harry, turning to Daphne and Tracey.

Tracey shrugged. "Like you said, we've never spoken before today. Us trying to be friendly could easily be a plan of Riddle's to find out the prophecy if he thinks you know it. Pressing you to tell us would look very suspicious. You don't trust us and so aren't likely to tell us anyway. So there isn't really any point in asking."

"Of course, our telling you this and deliberately not asking for details could be part of the plan" said Daphne. "We could be playing a long game, worming our way into your confidence, ready to pounce later."

Harry thought through the girls' statements. They were either being totally honest with him or, as Daphne had suggested, were putting a long-term plan into effect. Only time would tell which was the correct analysis. He could either accept their overtures of friendship and see what happened, or refuse to have anything to do with them. The latter was certainly the safest option. But Harry didn't want to go through life like Alastor Moody, trusting no-one and paranoid to the extreme. He was aware that he had few real friends and decided that this was as good a time as any to begin to change that.

"You can't have too many friends" Harry told the girls. "If this is some kind of long-term nefarious plan, well, we'll see what happens."

"If it's Daphne's long-term nefarious plan" interjected Justin helpfully, "it will probably involve loss of clothing and, from what she said earlier, raspberry syrup."

"That's It!" screamed Daphne, whipping out her wand. "Aranea". Streams of fine silken rope shot towards Justin, swiftly enveloping him in a tight cocoon. Immobilised, he toppled backwards to the floor.

Tracey walked over and looked down at Justin. "Spiderweb hex" she said approvingly. "Nice one."

Daphne was breathing deeply. She looked at Harry and said: "As you've probably realised, I have something of a crush on you, and Justin finds that rather amusing. I'm sorry."

Harry had suspected from her earlier comments and reactions that Daphne had a crush on him. Over the years, from Ginny Weasley onwards, he had come to recognise the signs, although he still found it difficult to believe that girls might fancy him, rather than the Boy Who Lived.

Thinking of his disastrous 'date' with Cho Chang, Harry's first instinct was to tell Daphne that he wasn't interested. After all, he hardly knew her and was still slightly suspicious of her and Tracey's motives. He also suspected that anyone he dated would be putting themselves in Voldemort's firing line. But thinking about it further, Daphne had already announced her willingness to stand against Voldemort. She seemed pleasant and sincere and was certainly good looking, he admitted to himself; tall and slim with straight blonde hair, clear blue eyes and a nice smile. The thought of Sirius's reaction made up his mind. He suspected that any advice from that quarter on Harry's future would have involved dating pretty girls. But he didn't want to go out with a girl who was crushing on someone he wasn't.

"Do you have a crush on me, or on the Boy Who Lived?" asked Harry.

Daphne looked pensive. "It can be difficult to separate the two of you" she admitted. "Most children in our world grew up hearing about the Boy Who Lived's defeat of Riddle. But you're the one we go to school with, the one who stands up for what he believes in, the one we know, albeit not very well. You're the good looking quidditch player," she finished with another blush.

"Well," said Harry, making his decision, "you can get to know me better by going out with me if you like. On a date. If you want to, that is" he finished nervously. He was fairly sure that she would say 'yes', but he still waited anxiously for her reply, wondering if his flash of courage had been misplaced.

Daphne stared at Harry in shock. "You're asking me out?" she stammered. "Really?"

"Yes, really" confirmed Harry. "I mean, I live in the muggle world over the summer, but if you want to meet up and do something we can arrange something, can't we?" he asked hopefully.

"Yes" beamed Daphne. "Owl me and we'll set something up. Can you use owls over the summer?"

"I can," Harry replied.

During their conversation Justin had managed to free himself and now stood up, ostentatiously brushing the remains of the spider silk from his robes. He glanced at his watch and cursed.

"It's nearly curfew" he announced. "Come on, we don't want to get detentions for next year already."

The four teens left the classroom and paused at the top of the corridor.

"Good night Harry" said Daphne, shyly.

"Good night Daphne" he replied, still inwardly marvelling at the turn his evening had taken.

"Come on" ordered Tracey, pulling Daphne towards the dungeons. "Night you two."

Justin shook his head indulgently. "Ah, young love" he sighed.

"Prat" said Harry, without rancour.

"Before you go, I wanted to have a quick word with you" said Justin. "Have you had a letter from the Dee Academy about summer school?"

"The Dee Acadamy? Never heard of it" replied Harry. "What do they teach at summer school?"

"Quite a lot" said Justin thoughtfully. "I've got the brochure they sent in my dorm. I'll come and find you on the train tomorrow and show you. It just seemed that signing up to some lessons so I could practice magic over the summer would be a good idea and I wondered if anyone else from Hogwarts had got a brochure and was thinking about it. No-one I've spoken to in Hufflepuff so far has had one."

"Being able to practice over the summer would definitely be a good idea" agreed Harry. "I'll see if anyone in Gryffindor's got one but yes, come and see me tomorrow. I wouldn't mind signing up for something like that, and it's be good to have a friend or two doing the same thing."

"Right. We'll sort something out tomorrow" said Justing happily, moving off towards the Hufflepuff dorms. "Night Harry."

OoOoOoO

It was with a much lighter heart that Harry returned to Gryffindor Tower. He had never given much credence to the expression "a problem shared is a problem halved", but simply knowing that others knew about the existence of the prophecy, if not the details, made his situation seem much less oppressive. The fact that he had managed to ask out an attractive witch didn't hurt, either.

Harry felt slightly guilty, though, that he had told others about the prophecy before Ron and Hermione. They had gone with him to the Department of Mysteries, put their lives on the line for him and deserved to know what the whole mess had really been about. The same went for Ginny, Neville and Luna. The problem was, he couldn't decide what to tell them. Everything, including the wording of the full prophecy? Just the part of the prophecy that Voldemort already knew? Or simply an overview along the lines of what Daphne, Tracey and Justin now knew?

Harry stepped though the portrait hole still thinking over the problem. It was now quite late and the common room was virtually empty. Only two people remained, conversing in low tones on a large couch in front of the fire. Harry wasn't surprised to see Hermione still up. He had taken to wandering the castle late at night since the return from the Department of Mysteries and Hermione had taken to waiting up for his return, obviously concerned about his state of mind following Sirius's death, although she had not pressed him to talk about it despite her obvious frustration. Tonight she had been joined by Neville in her vigil.

"Evening you two" said Harry quietly, joining them on the couch.

Hermione looked startled. On previous evenings Harry had simply nodded a greeting and gone straight upstairs to his dorm. "Hello Harry" she said tentatively. She appeared to fight an internal battle before asking even more tentatively "How are you?"

Harry felt ashamed that Hermione was clearly afraid of his reaction to what was genuine concern on her part. He knew that he had been short-tempered and irritable for much of the previous year and made a second resolution to try and control his temper better in future and to appreciate his friends. This would, he thought wryly, help with his first resolution to make more friends.

"I'm sorry, Hermione" began Harry. "I haven't been a very good friend to you this year. You've always looked out for me, always been concerned about me, and all I seem to have done is get angry with you. I've done a lot of thinking this last week, and I intend to do a lot better in the future."

Hermione stared at him in shock, before abruptly throwing herself at him and enveloping him in a tight hug. "You've nothing to apologise for" she said tearfully into his shirt. "You've been through so much this year, it's not fair, but you've got friends and we just want to help you."

Harry gently disentangled himself and smiled warmly at Hermione. "Well, I just wanted you to know that I appreciate everything you've done for me. You too, Neville" Harry added, turning to his other friend.

"No problem, Harry" replied Neville. "But I won't hug you if you don't mind."

"Prat," sniffled Hermione happily.

"So what have you been up to tonight?" asked Neville.

"Oh, this and that," said Harry nonchalently. "Got into a bit of a fight, found some allies in Slytherin, asked a girl out, you know, the usual."

"If you don't want to tell us all you have to do is say so," huffed Hermione irritably. "There's no need to make things up."

"I wasn't," protested Harry. "I was walking back from the feast when I got petrified and dragged into an empty classroom by Tracey Davis and Daphne Greengrass. They only wanted to talk to me, but Justin Finch-Fletchley saw me being 'abducted' and burst in to save me. Once we cleared that up we talked for a while, I asked Daphne out, she said "yes" and I came back here."

"You asked Daphne Greengrass out and she said 'yes'?" said Neville.

"Of course she did," said Hermione, not sounding at all surprised. "She's fancied him for years." She suddenly smiled. "What did Justin say when he realised it was Daphne who'd abducted you?"

"He may have made a few suggestive comments" admitted Harry, flushing. "But without them I probably wouldn't have realised she fancied me, so it all worked out in the end."

Neville shook his head wonderingly. "When I get hexed by Slytherins I usually end up in the hospital wing. You end up with a date. It's not fair."

"Tell you what Nev," grinned Harry, "we're bound to run into Malfoy tomorrow. If you like, I'll have a word with him and see if he's interested in asking you out."

Neville shuddered theatrically. "Don't even joke about it!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "So who are your allies in Slytherin? Daphne and Tracey?"

"No, from the sounds of it there are quite a few people in Slytherin who can't stand Malfoy and don't want to serve Voldemort. Now they can see he's really back they realise they have to pick a side, since they're prime recruiting material and Voldemort doesn't take 'no' for an answer."

"That's true," said Neville sombrely. "Gran says that one of Daphne's uncles turned him down last time and V..V..Voldemort killed his whole family."

Harry suddenly realised that as a pureblood, Neville was probably related to many of the students in Slytherin. "Do you know many Slytherins?" he asked. "Socially, I mean."

"Quite a few" admitted Neville. "I used to get taken to lots of functions before we started Hogwarts, and most of the kids were related in some way, although very distantly in many cases. Daphne's my second cousin, I think."

Hermione looked thoughtful. "Did you get on with them before Hogwarts?"

Neville shrugged. "We were just kids, playing together. We all got on fine together, mostly. Although I never liked Malfoy much" he confided with a grin. "It's not like I had many close friends before I came to Hogwarts, but if you'd asked me before we started who my best friend was, I'd have said Blaise Zabini. I used to spend a lot of time round at his house; his mum and dad were nice and he had younger brothers and sisters to play with, too. Since we started here I've hardly spoken to him" he finished, sadly.

"The House system isn't working as it should" commented Hermione. "Sometimes it seems as though we're actively discouraged from getting to know people from other houses. Even though we have classes with the other houses, we never sit with the people from those houses or speak to them regularly. And outside class we have separate tables in the Great Hall, and separate common rooms and dormitories."

"It's like Professor McGonagall said on our first day here" remembered Harry. "Something about "your house will be your family while you're at Hogwarts, and you'll do everything with them". That's fine in principle, but we should still have the choice to make friends in other houses and be able to spend time with existing friends who happened to get sorted into a different house."

"That's what was so good about the DA this year" said Neville. We got to know lots of other people from outside our own House."

"Except Slytherin" said Harry. "There's no wonder so many of them turn to Voldemort. They're ambitious by nature and are shunned by three quarters of the school. Of course some of them will take the opportunity to get back at non-Slytherins, even though most of them probably don't know what they're getting themselves into."

"So how did you know that Daphne fancied me, if you don't talk to Slytherins?" Harry asked Hermione curiously.

"Oh, well, we have ancient runes together," she replied, "and Professor Babbling has a rule that two students from the same house can't sit next to each other in her class. Outside the DA, that's the only time I've really managed to talk to people outside Gryffindor. Quite a lot of the students knew each other from before Hogwarts, like Neville said, and over the years we've got to know each other quite well, although there are only a dozen of us in the class. Daphne, Tracey and Blaise are the only Slytherins, and they've always been fine with me."

"Well," said Harry, "I've decided that I'm going to make more friends, so next year I plan on getting to know people from all of the houses better, including Slytherins."

"Me too," said Neville. "I'm going to write to Blaise over the summer and see if I can salvage anything of our friendship."

"Speaking of summer," said Harry, "have either of you heard of a school called the Dee Academy, or its summer school?"

Neville's forehead wrinkled in thought. "I think it's a small, independent school somewhere in Wales " he said, "although I'm not sure where I've heard that."

"It's in North West Wales, in Snowdonia I think" agreed Hermione. "I got an invitation to the school on my eleventh birthday, the same as Hogwarts. The information pack said that they catered mainly to muggle-born students, and taught all the usual academic subjects as well as magic. To be honest, my parents would have preferred me to go there rather than Hogwarts, but once I'd read "Hogwarts: A History" I didn't want to go anywhere else, and persuaded them to send me here. I've never heard of a summer school there, though. Why?"

"Justin said he'd got a brochure from them, advertising a summer school this summer," replied Harry. "He couldn't find anyone else in Hufflepuff who'd got one, and asked me if I'd had one. He's thinking of signing up so that he can practice magic over the summer and thought it would be more fun if he knew some of the other students beforehand."

"When does it start? What subjects are they teaching? Can anyone sign up?" asked Hermione, clearly excited at the opportunity to learn more magic over the summer.

"Calm down, Hermione" said Harry, smiling at her enthusiasm. "Justin's going to find us on the train tomorrow and show us the brochure. But if it looks good I'm going to sign up. There must be something interesting, and if it turns out not to be, well, it's only for a couple of months."

"It'll be worth signing up just so we can see each other, or meet other people, over the summer" agreed Neville. "I like spending time with my Gran, but there's only usually the two of us and it gets a bit boring after two months."

"Right then, we'll see what the brochure says tomorrow" decided Harry.

"So," Hermione said lightly, "did we miss anything else tonight? Any more bombshells to drop on us?"

Harry immediately sobered, the words of the prophecy crashing over him once more. Hermione and Neville must have sensed his change in mood, and their smiles faded and they both looked at him anxiously.

"Have either of you seen the Prophet today?" asked Harry.

Neville glanced at Hermione. "Yes" he said. "We saw that they're calling you the Chosen One. But that'll die down over the summer."

"I hope it will," sighed Harry. "The problem is, the Prophet's right."

"What?" screeched Hermione. "How can it be? The prophecy was smashed, no-one heard what it said . . ." she trailed off. "Dumbledore. APWBD. He was the one it was made to."

Harry quickly cast a silencing spell around the couch, checking that no-one else was in the room.

"Yes, it was made to Dumbledore by Trelawney sometime in early 1980. Dumbledore told it to me after we got back from the Department of Mysteries. It says, well," Harry took a couple of deep breaths. "It says that I have to kill Voldemort, or he has to kill me."

Harry looked up to see his friends looking at him sympathetically. Hermione was the first to speak.

"What exactly does it say, Harry," she said gently. "You know I don't have much faith in divination or Trelawney. From what I've read, prophecies are notoriously difficult to interpret and can often only be understood with the benefit of hindsight."

"Are you sure you want to know?" asked Harry. "Voldemort wants to know what the prophecy says badly, and if he finds out you know it . . ."

A short bark of laughter came from Neville. "Harry, last week the three of us helped to put most of Voldemort's Death Eaters in Azkaban. I doubt that there are many people higher up his list of targets than us already."

"True," said Harry sadly. "Well if you're sure." He concentrated on his conversation with Dumbledore, and repeated the prophecy.

"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 shall mark him as his equal, but he shall 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 approaches, born as the seventh month dies."

Silence fell on the common room, broken only by the hiss of embers from the dying fire and the scratching of Hermione's quill as she transcribed the prophecy. Harry having confirmed the accuracy of her transcription she sat back and studied her parchment. Neville and Harry settled back into companionable silence, watching Hermione chew the end of her quill as she read and re-read the prophecy.

"If this wording is right," she finally concluded, "it doesn't make sense."

"What do you mean?" said Harry, puzzled. "Dumbledore said that there were only two children born in July 1980 whose parents had defied Voldemort three times; me and Neville."

Neville stared wide-eyed at Harry and opened his mouth, but before he could speak Harry quickly continued. "Voldemort came for me first, and marked me," Harry tapped his scar, "so either I have to kill him, or he has to kill me."

"The prophecy says that "neither can live while the other survives" Hermione pointed out. You're both alive at the moment, so that can't be true, can it?"

Harry looked puzzled. "Dumbledore said . . ." he started, but was interrupted again by Hermione.

"In fact," she said, excitedly, "the prophecy has already been fulfilled. "You had the power to vanquish him, Voldemort marked you as his equal by coming after you (and literally marked you with your scar when he tried to kill you), and you obviously had power he knew not, because when he tried to kill you the curse rebounded and killed him instead. Since you were both alive before then, as well, that "neither can live" part isn't literally true; it must mean that Voldemort couldn't live, in the sense of living his life without worrying about being killed, while he thought that there was someone out there who could kill him. Like Macbeth."

"Who's Macbeth?" mouthed Neville to Harry, receiving a shrug in reply.

"But I didn't kill him!" exclaimed Harry. "He's still alive."

"He is now, but he wasn't then" argued Hermione. "Didn't you say that when he spoke to the Death Eaters after he got his body back he told them that he'd become a ghost? Ghosts aren't alive."

"Well, they are in a sense" protested Harry. "Nearly Headless Nick is sort of alive. He's got a personality, and intelligence, and stuff."

"Yes, and if the prophecy should be taken literally you might have a point. But we know from the "neither can live" part that it shouldn't. The prophecy's already been fulfilled" concluded Hermione triumphantly.

"But Dumbledore said . . ." began Harry, weakly.

"Pfff. Wizards and logic don't go together" said Hermione dismissively. "He can believe what he wants to believe. You've already killed Voldemort and fulfilled this prophecy. That means that you're not the only one who can kill him this time."

"You might be right, Hermione," said Neville, "but if Dumbledore believes Harry's the only one who can kill Voldemort, Voldemort would probably believe it too, if he ever heard the full prophecy. So he'd keep coming after Harry anyway."

Hermione deflated. "You're right," she said sadly. "Whether he knows the prophecy or not, he's still going to keep coming after you."

In contrast to Hermione's deflation, Harry felt his spirits rising as he thought about Hermione's analysis, and couldn't help the wide grin that appeared on his face. He jumped up, pulled Hermione up with him and, enveloping her in a hug, lifted her off the ground and swung her round, before setting her back down gently.

"Hermione, you're a genius" he told her, before leaning forward and kissing her on the forehead.

"What? I mean, well, what?" stammered the flustered girl, raising her hand to touch her forehead in disbelief.

"I've spent the last week thoroughly depressed because I thought the weight of the wizarding world was on my shoulders" said Harry. "I thought that I had to kill Voldemort, and that if I failed the wizarding world would be destroyed. But I don't. Given the opportunity, someone else can kill him. OK, yes, he's still going to be trying to kill me, but the overall responsibility isn't just mine. And that's a massive relief." He dropped back onto the couch, still grinning madly.

"I could be wrong, you know," said Hermione weakly.

"True," said Neville. "But you said earlier that prophecies can only be properly interpreted with hindsight. Chances are, that'll be the case with this one, too." He turned to Harry. "It sounds like Dumbledore convinced you that his was the only possible interpretation. Hermione's shown that it isn't." A rather fierce look came over his face. "And I don't like the fact that he told you all this only hours after you'd watched your Godfather die, when you were unlikely to be thinking straight anyway."

Hermione looked furious. "He told you that same night, when we all got back from the Ministry?"

Harry nodded.

"I don't know what he's been playing at this year" exploded Hermione. "He lets Umbridge into the school, ignores you, doesn't supervise Professor Snape's occlumency lessons, doesn't tell you what Voldemort was after in the Department of Mysteries, and then right after Sirius dies he tells you that you have to kill Voldemort. That's, that's, it's like he doesn't care about anything except defeating Voldemort, and the end justifies the means."

"My Gran isn't a big fan of Dumbledore's" admitted Neville quietly. "She blames him for what happened to my mum and dad. I've never been quite sure why. But after this year and what you've said tonight, I don't think I'll be in a rush to trust him on anything important."

Harry nodded, sadly. "He was responsible for leaving me with relatives who hated me, and never bothered to check up on how I was. I don't think he cares about us as individuals. He just sees the big picture. As long as Voldemort is killed at the end, that's alright."

"He's been seen as the most powerful wizard in Britain for over fifty years" said Hermione sadly. "I suppose that when you get to be as old as he is, and everyone tells you how powerful and wise you are, you start to believe it, especially if there's no-one around who's willing to stand up to you and tell you you're wrong."

"Well, from now on that's our job" said Harry with determination. I'm not accepting anything he says in future without giving it careful consideration. I'm certainly not going to take anything on trust." He paused, thoughtfully. "Tracey and Daphne said something very similar earlier, that Slytherins don't trust Dumbledore. Maybe that's why he's never tried to integrate the houses. If he keeps the Slytherins separate, they can't infect the other houses with their distrust."

Hermione looked dubious. "I'm not sure that can be right." She sighed. "But you're right, we can't afford to assume we know why he does anything anymore."

"So how much of this do Daphne, Tracey and Justin know?" asked Neville curiously. "I assume you didn't tell them the wording of the prophecy."

"No," said Harry, "I wasn't sure how much I could trust them and the timing seemed very convenient. But I hadn't seen the Prophet and when Daphne mentioned about them calling me the Chosen One they guessed from my reaction that I knew what the prophecy said, and that the Prophet was right about me."

"We should get a second opinion from someone, though" said Hermione. "I can understand you not trusting Tracey and Daphne, at least not yet. But what about Professor Lupin?"

Harry's earlier exuberance faded. "I'm not sure he'll want to speak to me" he said sadly.

"Why not?" asked Neville, curiously?

"I got his best friend killed" was Harry's answer.

"No you didn't" snapped Hermione. "Harry, look at me."

Harry looked up, surprised at the anger in her voice.

"You didn't kill Sirius. Bellatrix Lestrange killed Sirius."

"But if I hadn't followed Voldemort's fake vision . . ."

"You didn't know it was fake. Harry, you saved Mr Weasley at Christmas because you had a vision, a true vision. How were you to know that this one wasn't just as true?"

"I could have tried harder to find out" yelled Harry. "I had a communication mirror, Sirius gave it to me at Christmas, but I never opened it. I could have called him on that."

"Did he keep the mirror with him at all times?" asked Hermione.

"I don't know" mumbled Harry.

"No, you don't" she snapped. "Harry, you tried to find out if Sirius was at Headquarters, and you couldn't contact him. You had no reason to think that the vision was false. The logical conclusion was that Voldemort was holding Sirius in the Department of Mysteries. Even though I thought it was a trap for you I still thought, based on what you'd seen, that Sirius was there. It was not. Your. Fault."

Harry closed his eyes and leaned back into the couch. Hermione wasn't telling him anything he didn't already know. He had thought about little else for the last week and even though he wanted to keep blaming himself he knew where the fault really lay.

"I know, Hermione" he said tiredly. "Logically I know that it was Bellatrix Lestrange. It's just that if I'd stayed at Hogwarts, she wouldn't have had the chance."

"Maybe not," said Hermione gently. "If you hadn't gone, though, and the vision had been true, and Voldemort had killed Sirius, would that have been your fault too?"

Harry sighed. "Everything you say is true, Hermione" he said. "But that doesn't stop me feeling guilty."

"It will take time, Harry. Just . . . don't bottle everything up. I really doubt that Professor Lupin is blaming you. But you won't know unless you talk to him. He's lost his best friend. Again. Don't you think that he might like to talk about him with someone else who loved him?"

"I want to talk to him, Hermione. He hasn't got anyone now and I want to try and build a friendship with him. I'm actually ashamed that I haven't tried to get to know him more over the last couple of years."

"Owl him when you get home tomorrow" she suggested. "Ask him to come and see you. This summer's as good a time as any to start to get to know him better."

"I will," decided Harry. "Nothing ventured, nothing gained, eh?"

"Don't miss the chance to get to know someone like that Harry," said Neville seriously. "You never know what's going to happen in the future. If anything does happen, you shouldn't have any regrets. Take the chance while it's there."

Harry smiled at his friends. "Thanks. Both of you. What with Daphne, Tracey and Justin earlier, and now you two, I do actually feel a lot better."

"Are you going to tell anyone else about the prophecy, apart from Professor Lupin?" asked Hermione. "I was thinking about Ron, Ginny and Luna."

Harry looked pensive. "I should, but I'm not sure I'll get a chance before we get on the train, and I don't think the train's the most secure place to talk about it. I'll have to try and meet up with them over the summer. If this summer school does look good, perhaps they'll be interested in signing up too, and we could discuss it there."

Neville looked doubtful. "No offence to Ron," he said, "but I can't honestly see him agreeing to spend the summer studying."

"If a load of us are doing it he might, " said Harry optimistically. "We'll see tomorrow. But now I think about it, Luna said that she and her dad were going to Sweden hunting crumple-horned snorkacks, so she might not want to anyway."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

Harry looked up at one of the common room clocks and saw that it was now well past midnight. He yawned. "Right, I'm off to bed. The summer starts tomorrow, a chance for new opportunities, a chance to make new friends,"

"A chance to snog your new girlfriend," interrupted Neville slyly.

Harry blushed and Hermione laughed. "Night you two," she said, gathering up her parchment with the prophecy transcription and moving towards the stairs." She stopped, thought for a second, and tapped the parchment with her wand. "I've keyed it to my wand signature" she explained to the puzzled boys. "It just means that no-one can read it without my permission."

"Good idea," said Harry, rising himself. "No point taking any chances."

Harry and Neville headed towards the stairs themselves. "Night, Hermione," they chorused as she disappeared upstairs, before heading quickly for their own beds.

As he nestled under the covers Harry mused again on a very peculiar day. Maybe there were grounds for optimism, he thought, as he drifted off to sleep. The whole summer stretched ahead of him, a summer full of opportunities. All he had to do was make the most of them.