Chapter 626: You Shattered My Prophecy Ball!!
"Very well, Potter. You broke my prophecy?"
Voldemort's cold voice suddenly echoed through the hall as he appeared. The instant he did, Harry's scar burned like it was being torn open.
Strangely, Harry still had the strength to look at him.
"It's broken," Harry said hoarsely. "I broke it myself."
A Death Eater struggled up from the floor, sobbing miserably.
"Master, I did everything I could… We didn't mean to kill them… but Darren Potter fell through the Veil… This boy went mad!"
"Darren Potter… is dead?"
Voldemort asked softly.
Harry felt as if his mind exploded. For a moment, everything went blank.
Voldemort turned his gaze coldly on the Death Eaters sprawled across the floor.
"Crucio."
The scream was instant.
Harry watched as the Death Eater writhed in agony, unable even to beg. Then Voldemort slowly turned his snake-like eyes toward Harry.
Those blood-red pupils fixed on him, sending a chill straight through his bones.
"For a long time, he caused me endless trouble," Voldemort said calmly.
"Always forcing me to change my plans… It seems I can finally kill you today."
"Avada Kedavra."
A flash of green light shot toward Harry.
He didn't dodge.
He didn't want to.
He closed his eyes.
Darren had said he would accompany him to death. Wasn't this perfect? They were brothers—why shouldn't they die together?
But the stone platform in front of Harry suddenly shifted.
It transformed into a tabby cat, which leapt forward and stood between Harry and the curse.
Voldemort snarled and glared at Dumbledore.
"You're stopping me! You know why I'm angry! I lost something—something I should avenge!"
"Tom," Dumbledore said calmly, "this was an accident. If Darren had not fallen—"
"Enough!" Voldemort roared. "I don't want to hear it. This child must die today!"
He raised his wand again.
Another green light surged toward Dumbledore. Dumbledore flicked his wand.
Something twisted in the air—something that made even Harry feel deeply unsettled. The curse vanished as if swallowed.
Dumbledore waved his wand once more.
A shimmering shield formed in front of Harry.
Voldemort sneered.
"This is the one you place all your hopes on. You want him to live, but you don't care if others die!"
He slashed his wand.
An explosion erupted beside Harry. The shield shattered—yet somehow held, barely, still protecting him.
Dumbledore reinforced it and then, as if unconcerned with anything else, walked straight toward Voldemort.
"Tom, I believe—"
Harry saw Voldemort's crimson eyes lock onto him again.
That killing intent was unmistakable.
"Harry, don't move—"
Dumbledore suddenly turned back, worry flashing across his face.
Harry's scar felt as though it had split open. His entire body burned, as if something monstrous was tearing its way out of him.
He looked up at Dumbledore and said in a broken voice,
"Kill me, Professor…"
The pain swallowed him whole.
Harry lost consciousness.
---
"Harry…"
He didn't know how much time had passed.
When he finally came to, he was lying face down on the floor. Dumbledore was helping him up.
"Harry, are you all right?"
Harry didn't answer. He let himself be pulled to his feet.
All right?
He would rather have stayed unconscious forever.
"There he is, Minister! I just saw You-Know-Who—"
A voice shouted.
Harry saw Cornelius Fudge standing at the entrance with a large crowd behind him. The entire hall was packed.
The Veil had been sealed off by a solid wall.
A wall that cut off Darren's path back forever.
Harry staggered forward.
He vaguely remembered picking up his wand. Almost absurdly, he thought he couldn't possibly smash the wall with his bare hands.
Before he could move closer, Dumbledore grabbed him.
"Harry, don't go."
"Harry?"
Fudge exclaimed, as if only now noticing them.
He gestured for his people to seize Dumbledore and Harry—but one look from Dumbledore made him step back uneasily.
Dumbledore had no intention of dealing with Fudge now.
He tapped a hat lightly with his wand.
"Portus."
The hat became a Portkey. Dumbledore placed it in Harry's hand.
"Take this. I'll see you in half an hour."
The world spun violently.
Harry felt a wrenching pull in his stomach—and then solid ground returned beneath his feet.
He was back in the headmaster's office.
The hat fell from his hand, dull and lifeless.
Harry didn't bother to pick it up.
He leaned against the window, watching the sky slowly brighten with the coming dawn.
It was a peaceful sight.
Yet even forcing the corners of his mouth to lift felt exhausting.
He suddenly realized that this must have been how Darren felt after the Triwizard Tournament.
Darren had smiled every day afterward—so they wouldn't worry.
So Harry smiled too.
"Well, I must say," came Phineas Nigellus's voice,
"when you smile like that, you look rather like your brother, Darren Potter. So where is he? Didn't he stop you from barging into the headmaster's office?"
Harry didn't respond.
He didn't even turn around.
He stared out the window, scraping at the wooden frame with his fingernails, ignoring the portraits completely.
Voices continued behind him.
"Only Dumbledore could have brought him here."
"Which means Dumbledore will return shortly."
"I rather like it when Dumbledore is here—and when young Darren stayed here at night. He was delightful company."
"Yes, I suggested it before. The child could chat with us for hours. I truly enjoyed him."
Harry listened without expression.
His fingers dug into the wood until splinters broke under his nails.
Then Dumbledore returned.
He rested a hand on Harry's shoulder.
"Harry, there is some good news. None of your classmates died. They were badly injured and have been taken to St. Mungo's."
He said it gently, almost encouragingly.
Dumbledore drew Fawkes from his arms.
The phoenix had reverted to a featherless, fragile form.
Harry suddenly remembered.
Darren had once had a phoenix too.
In second year, it had saved Darren's life.
His heart stirred—then sank.
Even phoenix fire couldn't help now.
Darren had no body.
He had fallen beyond the Veil.
And someone had sealed it shut.
Even if Darren wanted to come back—
He couldn't.
Harry lowered his head.
Nothing stirred inside him anymore.