Funerals and Weddings

For disclaimer, summary, story codes and other information, please see the prologue.

Chapter the Twelfth: Caught Like a Snitch
1 September, continued

Harry remained frozen. A zillion thoughts raced though his mind simultaneously: Run! Don’t move! Hide! Fake sudden deafness! Plead insanity! Act nonchalant!

In the split second that felt like a lifetime to Harry, he considered and discarded all those actions as hopeless, foolish or just plain idiotic. Inhaling deeply, preparing himself mentally for the worst dressing down in his life, Harry turned to face the Headmaster.

Dumbledore was still seated, with his head cocked to the side. Lifting a brow, he said, “Do you feel the Cloak is still necessary, even though—what is that delightful Muggle expression? Ah, yes—‘the game is up?’

Harry blinked then flushed an even deeper shade of red as he realized he was still covered by his Invisibility Cloak. He slid it off and bunched it in his hands. Amazingly uncomfortable and embarrassed, Harry fiddled with it as he started to apologise:

“Profess.., er, I mean Headmaster, sir, I’m…I didn’t mean…that is…I…I just wanted…I shouldn’t have…”

At this point, Dumbledore lifted a hand and put them both out of their misery. “Have a seat, Harry. Take a moment to breathe—I often find that helps when attempting to speak.”

Bemused, Harry stared a moment, then sat on the chair Draco had just vacated. Was Dumbledore…amused? Following the Headmaster’s advise, he took a deep breath before trying again.

“Headmaster, I’m sorry. I know what I did, coming in here and listening to your private conversation like that, I know it was wrong and I’m sorry. I saw Malfoy speaking to you in the Great Hall and when I saw the two of you leave together, I…my curiosity got the better of me. As usual, I acted without thinking…and I truly apologise. I swear it will never happen again.” Harry finished, eyes dropping to the silvery Cloak in his lap, hoping the Headmaster would recognize his sincerity.

“Somehow, Mr. Potter, I doubt that very much.”

At Dumbledore’s words, Harry’s head shot up, his eyes wide and pleading. “Sir, please believe me! I am sorry, truly—“ “Dumbledore cut off Harry’s protestations by simply raising his hand again.

“Allow me to clarify. I believe you are sorry—and I daresay embarrassed—and I am quite sure that you are aware that your actions were wrong. What I doubted, Mr. Potter, was your pledge that you would never act without thinking again. Alas, I am afraid that most people never master that skill. And as long as that marvelous Cloak is in your possession, I fear that you will be unable to keep your vow of never eavesdropping again as well.” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled and Harry swore that for a moment the Headmaster’s lips twitched. Dumbledore continued, more seriously. “However, I do believe your intentions—and your apology--are sincere. That said, I will simply say that I am very disappointed by your actions Harry.” Harry gulped and nodded, keeping his eyes lowered in shame.

“Unfortunately, apologies and intentions do not erase events which have occurred. I believe you heard all of my conversation with Mr. Malfoy?”

At Harry’s assent, Dumbledore nodded. “Yes. Then this is how we shall proceed. I will take a few moments to discuss with you what you overheard and I will answer your questions, within reason. You understand, of course, that there are some topics upon which I will not elaborate for reasons of safety and secrecy.” Dumbledore’s lined face grew more serious and his piercing blue gaze met Harry’s. “The price you will pay for this knowledge, Harry, is your memory—or I should say a small fraction of your memory. Specifically, your memory of this entire visit to my office. For reasons which I believe will become clear to you shortly, I cannot allow you to remember the information given to me by Mr. Malfoy. Before you leave, I will cast a modified memory charm on you.”

Dumbledore held up a hand to forestall the objections he saw on Harry’s face. “Hear me out. Your memory of what was imparted to me by Mr. Malfoy will be temporarily erased. If the events about which Mr. Malfoy dreamed come to pass, your memory will return in full. You will remember everything said in this office this evening between Mr. Malfoy and myself and between you and myself. If the events should never occur, then the memory will never return and you will be none the wiser. Before you protest, answer me this: why am I taking this course of action? Think, Harry. Why is the obliviation of your memory necessary?”

Harry bit his tongue to keep from expressing his opinion as to how unfair Dumbledore was being. He forced himself to think logically. After a moment, he replied,

“Well, er, first…I imagine that Malfoy would be furious with me—perhaps furious enough to go back on his decision to join the Light. And I suppose that keeping Malfoy’s defection a secret could be of great benefit to the Order and likely keep him safer as well.”

“Very good, Mr. Potter. For those reasons and more. Now, tell me how you feel about Mr. Malfoy’s decision to…defect, I believe you said.”

Harry considered. How did he feel? At first, he had only felt stunned. Then suspicious. But Malfoy had agreed readily to veritaserum testing—that couldn’t be fooled, could it? Assuming Malfoy was for real, Harry found that he felt cautiously…pleased. Happy, actually, that a potential enemy could become a potentially strong ally. And, he had to admit, he felt relieved that this would be one less person he would find himself facing on a battlefield—Malfoy was a bloody bastard most of the time but that didn’t mean that Harry wanted to kill him.

After he shared his thoughts with the Headmaster, Dumbledore asked his opinion about Draco’s dream.

Harry hesitated. “To be honest, sir, it…bothered me. It was hard enough to hear just a few months ago that I am destined to be a murderer—or be murdered. I’d suspected something like it before I heard the prophecy, but I hadn’t allowed my self to examine the idea too closely.

“I spent a lot of time this summer thinking about the prophecy. While I still believe that I should have been told much sooner and a part of me still feels a bit…betrayed, I suppose, I realize there is nothing to be done for it. It will happen or it won’t. Since it likely will, I need to be as prepared as possible. Sitting around whinging about the injustice of fate will only waste time I don’t have to spare. So I guess you could say I have accepted it, even if I don’t like it.

“But Malfoy’s dream disturbs me. It may be fate that I am the only one who can defeat Voldemort. I can accept and rationalise killing Voldemort—it is prophesied, he’s barely human, he’s evil, he should already be dead. But killing someone else…there is no prophecy to justify Lucius Malfoy’s murder. I can’t blame it on fate. And it makes me think too much about what this war will cost—in terms of lives lost and in terms of how many lives may be taken by my own hand on my path to Voldemort. Headmaster, I…I just don’t know how much blood on my hands I can live with.”

Dumbledore’s eyes were sad as he met Harry’s haunted gaze. “You have indeed done much thinking, my boy, and have realized some of the deeper truths. An uncomfortable awareness, perhaps, but a necessary one for you. Mr. Malfoy’s dream may be just that—a dream. But other facts to which I am privy lead me to believe that what he saw was much more than an ordinary dream.”

Harry frowned. “Are there Seers in the Malfoy line?”

“In the Malfoy line? Not to my knowledge. Then again, a tree has more than one branch. Or at least—it should!” Harry gave the chuckling old man an uncertain smile. Was he just being batty again?

He turned abruptly serious again. “If the dream does show the future—be it literal or symbolic, potential or predetermined—there is a substantial risk of disastrous consequences if you remain aware of this possible future. Your knowledge could colour your actions, lead you to second-guess or overanalyze, drive you to choices that you would not ordinarily make, cause you to act too early or too late. All of these things could affect the outcome of Professor Trelawney’s prophecy.”

“And therefore affect whether or not I kill Voldemort or he kills me,” Harry concluded grimly.

“Yes, as well as affect Draco and his father—and the greater Wizarding community as a whole. So do you understand why I must take…distasteful…steps to prevent this from happening?”

Harry nodded. He did understand. It still went against his instincts to allow someone to tamper with his memory, but he trusted Dumbledore and it was his own recklessness that had led him to hear what he shouldn’t have in the first place.

“Good. Let me assure you that I shall be very careful—especially careful not to obliviate your memory in regard to the detentions you shall serve this week as consequence for your actions.” Dumbledore gave him a pointed smile. Harry nodded in acceptance. “Ready then?”

At Harry’s nod, Dumbledore pointed his wand at Harry’s head and cast:

“Obliviate tempus termini, experiri refero.” His wand flicked downward sharply, then made a soft arc. ”Fidelius innuo.”

Harry blinked, bemused. What was he doing in Dumbledore’s office? He didn’t remember being asked to meet with the Headmaster…did he? The last thing he remembered was…

Before he could finish his thought, Dumbledore interrupted. “Ah, yes, Harry. Thank you for coming. How was your summer?”

Dumbledore chatted briefly with Harry, sharing with him a few details of the Order’s work over the summer as his pretext for having ‘asked’ Harry to see him. After sending Harry off to his dormitory, the elderly wizard sighed. Despite his promise last June to both Harry and himself, he found himself once again in the position of withholding information—albeit with Harry’s grudging permission this time. But he saw no other alternative—Harry could not remain aware of Draco Malfoy’s dream. If the dream were indeed a premonition—and Albus strongly suspected it was—he could not risk Harry acting in a way that could derail the premonition and possibly the prophecy. He feared Harry would avoid killing Lucius Malfoy at all costs. Harry, being who he is, abhors the thought of taking a life. As much as it pained Dumbledore to willingly allow Harry to continue on this path—indeed, to encourage him to stay on the path by obliviating Harry’s memory and removing the boy’s choice—he felt there was no other way.

He only hoped that the subtle “nudge” he had included as a postscript to the modified memory spell would help both young men on the paths they now walked. After all, they both needed more people they could trust…

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A/N: The spell is one of my own making and the bastardized Latin I’ve used should in no way reflect on the abilities of my old Latin teacher back in high school! He was a great teacher—honestly!
The first part of the spell loosely translates to: Forget but restore if at any time that you experience (what you have forgotten). The second part is a suggestion to trust.
The root words for the spell:
Obliviate: this is J.K. Rowling’s, from oblivisci: forget
Tempus: time
Termini: to set a limit to
Experiri: experience
Refero: restore
Fidelius: trust
Innuo: suggest

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