"Why exactly am I the one who needs to defeat him, Professor? Sirius mentioned a prophecy?" Dumbledore grimaced, clearly Sirius wasn't supposed to tell him about that. Oops. The old man gave Harry a thorough look over, searching for something in the boy's face.
"Forgive me, Harry. It has been my goal to protect you and give you a normal childhood while you still can, but I fear the escalation of the war will not allow me this. Come, I will show you another memory. This one will be much quicker." They spiraled down into a memory of Dumbledore's.
"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…"
Once he was back in the office, wedged in his stuffy armchair, Harry pondered if any of that knowledge changed anything.
"Power the Dark Lord knows not…" he murmured to himself.
"Yes. Do you have any guesses?" Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.
"No."
"Love, Harry. Love!"
Harry eyed the old man dubiously.
"Seriously?"
"Indeed." He said for the fortieth time that night.
"Um, alright. I'll take your word for it. So I'm the only one who can kill him? I hadn't really thought about it… Does he know about the prophecy? He must, since he went after mum and dad, right? He thinks I'm his only weakness, so he's going to come after me once he regains his power."
"Very astute, Harry. Yes, Voldemort knows and values the prophecy a great deal. He has, with your scar, marked you as his equal. I'm afraid he has declared you his primary enemy."
Harry knew that if mama was here, she would throw a fit and strangle Dumbledore to death and then light his corpse on fire and then banish his soul into hell for suggesting anything of the sort. She wouldn't let him anywhere near Voldemort. He'd sworn to have a quiet, peaceful year after all, and he would be fine with letting the adults solve things - a large part of Harry was alright with that. He enjoyed being normal. But normalcy wasn't available if people had to fear for their lives every time they went to a sporting event.
Harry would listen to Dumbledore's plans and take his secret lessons. Why not? Sirius was interrogating dead Death Eaters night and day on the remaining horcruxes, and if Dumbledore could help them with any leads, that could only move things along. Harry reasoned he was pretty safe at Hogwarts, and he only had to hold out until the rest of them were found and destroyed. Killing Voldemort after that wouldn't prove too difficult, and surely his mama would understand his reasoning for involving himself then. Hell, by the time he got to him, Voldemort would be weak enough to kill with a strong gust of wind! If baby Harry had been capable, surely he now would be able to solve the matter easily.
...
Harry really meant to talk to mama and Sirius about that weird evening with the Headmaster, but he got distracted and forgot about it. The excited tension toward the Goblet of Fire ceremony built up over the week. The Gryffindor team put their names in for the Quidditch tournament and had already begun extra practices. Hermione could be found in a corner of the common room, flipping through her years of notes, a manic gleam in her eyes. Classwork was completely ignored by most of the students as they gossiped and debated who would be selected as the Hogwarts champion. Cedric Diggory was currently the top contender.
Most did not bother with the feast, eating as fast as they could as though that would make the announcement come sooner. Every time Dumbledore paused his meal, the students leaned forward in anticipation.
Finally, he stood and silence instantly fell over the seats.
"Tonight, the Goblet of Fire will announce the contestants," Dumbledore said in a booming voice. On cue, the candles in the Great Hall dimmed for dramatic effect. The flames of the Goblet sparkled and danced in a multitude of colors. A slip of paper burst from the flames. It was silent in the Hall, every student on the edge of their seats, their whole focus on the Goblet.
"The champion from Durmstrang is - Viktor Krum!"
The room exploded in cheers.
"The champion from Beauxbatons is - Fleur Delacour!"
The Hogwarts students waited with bated breath as the fire shifted once more.
"The champion from Hogwarts is -" Dumbledore faltered, his eyes growing wide behind his half-moon glasses. Everyone scooted a little closer to the man, desperate for whomever's name he was about to say. " - Harry Potter?"
.....
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