Content Harry Potter Trixie Belden Star Trek: TNG My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
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"You’re crazy!" Kingsley Shacklebolt cried out.   "He’s fought harder than any of us against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!"

"Nevertheless," Harry said implacably, "logic states that it must be him."

"Mind telling us how you came to that conclusion about the most celebrated hero of the last hundred years?" Moody growled.

"Let’s start simple.   I apologize for this, Aunt Petunia, but …"

"You go right ahead, Harry," she said, her chin quivering slightly.   "It’s merely the truth."

He nodded.   "You have probably all heard the story about living with a family of loveless Mundanes — sorry — Muggles.   From fifteen months until after I received my letter from Hogwarts — well, the first of what I think were several thousand — I lived under the stairs, in a cupboard.   Just enough food to keep me going, to do all the household work that was assigned to me.   For all intents and purposes, I was a slave — no rights, no freedom, and certainly no love.   I was also regularly abused by Vernon, and …"   He looked to Tonks, who immediately came over and hugged him.

Taking a deep breath, he continued.   "Dudley Dursley and his gang regularly used to rape me from the time I was ten until the early part of summer before my fifth year."

"Oh my God," breathed Petunia before she fainted.   She was quickly Ennervated, and stared at Harry for a long time before saying, "Harry, if there were any way to make this up to you, I would.   And you’re a kinder, gentler soul than I deserve to know for being willing to give me a second chance.   I swear to you, Harry — I will be the kind of family I should have been all those years ago."   The room was surprised to feel a pulse of magic flare out from Petunia and hit Harry, who staggered slightly.

"Goodness," said Tonks a little breathlessly.   "That was an Oath, or I’m not a metamorphmagus."

Harry only grinned.   "That alone tells me I did the right thing in trusting you, Aunt.   Welcome back to the family."   He walked over to her and took her into a real hug as soon as she was standing.   When he let her go, there were tears in both their eyes, as well as a few members at the table trying not to be noticed as they dabbed at their own eyes.

Eventually, though, he walked back to his place at the head of the table.   "As much as mentioning this hurts my aunt, I have to in order to make my point.   I was abused, both mentally and physically, at Number four Privet Drive.   I had been placed there by Albus Dumbledore, nominally under the excuse of blood protections.   That’s all well and good.   All evidence points me to believe that I was merely ignored there.   Even that’s believable, considering the reaction that most people have when they hear how I was treated those years."

"The problem comes down to a bit of information that Dumbledore didn’t tell me until after Sirius fell through the Veil."   He cleared his throat.   "‘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 …’"   He looked around at the group.   "He’s known that prophecy since before I was born, since he was the one that it was told to.   This scar apparently marks me as his equal.   Now, you look at a baby who you know is going to be the one to fight the Dark Lord and who is apparently your only hope against this same Dark Lord, and you place him in a home with his relatives.   Are you going to ignore him completely until he becomes old enough to go to Hogwarts?"   He sighed.   "That’s what Dumbledore did with me, at the very least.   At worst, he knew and didn’t see fit to remove me.   I didn’t find out until last year that the only real watch I had over me was you, Mrs. Figg."   He looked around again.   "I can understand not wanting me to grow up with that arrogance that a certain Potions professor is so certain that I have, but to leave me so utterly out of the loop?   To intentionally leave me with a family that hated me?   One or two visits from him or someone else, when the Dursleys weren’t aware of it, would have made their treatment of me rather obvious.   Nobody even had to visit physically, for that matter.   I’m sure Dumbledore knows how to use a crystal ball to watch someone.   He has several of them in his office.   I know, I knocked them off their stands."

He shook his head, looked apologetically at Petunia and mouthed "Sorry," before he continued.   "Let’s hit my schooling next.   I had no preparation at all for entering Hogwarts.   Even Hermione and Justin had more of an idea how things worked than I did.   I have no complaints about the teaching itself, except for the fact that Binns should be exorcised before he kills someone from boredom.   Well, and the fact that Snape is a jerk who couldn’t teach his way out of a wet paper bag.   But you’d think if I was the only hope against Voldemort, I would have been pushed a little harder.   Given some extra work.   Something.   Especially after the first year, when it was obvious to Dumbledore, anyway, that Voldie was still out there and trying to get back.   The only extra training I ever got was with Professor Lupin, and that was only because I thought to ask for it.   And I’d be willing to bet that your giving me that training, Remus, had a lot to do with why Dumbledore let you leave without complaint after Snape outed you."   Remus nodded thoughtfully.

"Back to my first year and the scenario with the Philosopher’s Stone.   I can’t believe nobody ever questioned how it worked out. First off, why in hell did Dumbledore send a man who can’t keep a secret to save his life to get the Stone?   I love Hagrid dearly — he was the very first friend I ever had in the magical world — but the only secret I’d ever give him is one that I wanted to get around to everyone else.   On top of that, that same person was given this task on the same day that he was picking up a curious child!   I’ll ignore the ridiculousness of expecting a child to know about Platform 9 3/4, and skip straight what happened in school.   He had Hagrid put Fluffy the three headed dog up there to guard that trap door.   See my previous comments about Hagrid’s ability to keep secrets.   Then he drew more attention to it by announcing at the Sorting Feast that everyone should stay away from there.   I’m surprised Fluffy didn’t eat half of Ravenclaw House — they’re all nosy parkers.   Also, if it was that important, don’t you think that he could have seen to it that the stairs only moved to that wing when there was a teacher present?   At Christmas, he gives me my father’s Invisibility Cloak, which is a device designed for helping a student sneak around after hours!   We were given clues left and right to point us at the Stone, and I was introduced to the Mirror of Erised, supposedly by accident, but I’m not so sure anymore. I think he knew the areas where I was poking around and deliberately put the mirror there so I’d find it.   Or he had the halls shift to get me to the right place.   One or the other. Okay, we discover who Flamel was, what he was famous for, and that it’s at the school.   Now we get to the actual chase after the Stone.   Has anyone realized that damned near anyone could have beaten those puzzles?   After all, three first year students did!   Devil’s Snare, which can be gotten past by either relaxing or lighting a fire under it — and is taught about in first year.   The key test, which Quirrell probably got past with an Accio, but I needed to fly to capture that key. Ron could probably have got it, too — he’d had more practice flying than I had at that point. Actually, Hermione, you’re a pretty good flier, you know."

"Yes.   I don’t know where everyone got the idea that I hate flying.   It was riding Buckbeak that I had a problem with.   Couldn’t control him as well as I can a broom.   Never be a professional at it, but I can at least deal with it."

"True.   Anyway, we had the key test, which was really designed for someone just like me — a flier.   Then we had the chess board, which was designed for our resident chess master.   Then there was the troll, which was unconscious, so we walked right past it, but we’d already shown we could deal with one of those anyway.   After that, we had a logic puzzle — something designed for a girl who became the sexiest brain I know."   She sketched an amused bow from her seat, blushing furiously.   "Now that I’m inside with the offender — Quirrell, in case you’ve forgotten — he’s facing a mirror.   Can anyone guess which mirror?   That’s right, Erised strikes again.   So we have an evil wizard and an eleven year old boy facing this mirror.   I wanted the Stone to keep it away from Quirrell and Voldemort.   Now, the enchantment was that only someone who wanted the Stone but not to use it could retrieve it from the Mirror of Erised.   I got the Stone, Quirrellmort tried to take it, and the power of my mother’s martyrdom saved the day.   Now, does anyone see the inherent problem with this scenario?   You guys don’t count," he finished, pointing at the group that had been in America with him.

After several moments of confused conversation amongst the group, Petunia looked up and asked, "Why did he set an eleven year old boy after it?   Why not do everything in his power to actually prevent you from going after it?   After all, from what I’ve heard people say, he can get the school to do nearly anything.   You would have had a much harder time of it without that cloak.   Make the puzzles harder.   Set that charm so that only he personally could retrieve it.   Anything."

Harry looked to Hermione.   "I’m beginning to think you’re right.   Logic is not a thing they teach wizards.   Aunt Petunia got it right away."   He looked to the rest of the group.   "Ron and Hermione and I even suspected it then, but I — in my desire to believe the best of a man I thought was my mentor — dismissed the possibility and made excuses.   In retrospect, it was obvious that we were right.   I was meant to retrieve the Stone, and by rights, Voldemort should have got it then.   He would have, and then my mother’s protection could have killed him, and it really wouldn’t have mattered if I lived or died.   There was no way to predict the effect it would have when Voldie actually laid hands on me.   Afterwards, Dumbledore said the Stone was destroyed, but for all I know it went back to Flamel, because word got around about it, and it now would have looked bad if Moldieshorts got his hands on it anyway."

"On to my second year — the year of the Flying Ford Anglia.   Remember ripping those bars off my window, Freorge?"   They nodded silently.   "Vernon wasn’t pleased with continually losing his slave to Hogwarts where I could learn all that ‘freakish stuff’.   That was the year of Dobby trying to save my life by trying to keep me from going back to Hogwarts.   Now, why would Dobby, a Malfoy house elf, be trying to keep a non-Malfoy from returning to school?   Why me specifically, unless the diary going to a friend of mine was intentional?   Which means that Ginny was most likely the intended victim of that walk-by reverse-pickpocket scheme by Lucius Malfoy.   Either her or Hermione — guys tend not to use diaries.   This gives him the ultimate revenge by using the only daughter of a family sworn to fight Voldemort in order to bring Voldemort back."

"What does Dumbledore have to do with this?" Shacklebolt asked.

"It’s obvious from what happened in first and fourth years that he actually wanted Voldemort back.   The bit with the diary was another try at that.   And since Malfoy had the diary, the two of them had to have set it up together.   Is there anywhere in the castle that Dumbledore doesn’t know about?   He knows everything that happens there.   How could he not know about the Chamber of Secrets?   Hell, he had been there fifty years earlier, when the previous round of deaths happened.   How do you not figure out that it’s a Basilisk killing everyone?   It’s in the damned textbook for anyone to see!   Anybody who actually reads it, that is … which is why Hermione found out about it and not me … For that matter, name me another teacher who was actually at Hogwarts fifty years prior.   McGonagall wasn’t, because Dumbledore was the Transfiguration teacher.   Binns might have been there, but since the only thing that ever got him excited was the Goblin Rebellions, he wouldn’t have noticed.   No other teacher around knew about it.   No, he knew what was happening, all right, and was ready to let Tom come back.   Perhaps he was planning on fusing the old Voldemort spirit with the resurrected body and then using me to take him out while he was still weak.   But instead Tom takes things into his own hands and orders the Basilisk to kill me, which it would have.   Dumbledore had to send Fawkes with the sword to save me from my own idiocy.   He still needed me for something."

"Third year, I don’t think what happened was part of his long-term plan.   He was busy doing the negotiations for the Tri-Wizard Tournament that year.   But he still did his best to keep me off balance.   How in hell did Dementors get through the wards?   Dumbledore controls those.   Easy enough to keep them off the grounds, wouldn’t you think?   I think that year was really more of a respite from everything as far as he was concerned.   Up to the end of that year, I think Dumbledore was still working on the idea of taking Voldemort out permanently.   But by that year, I think he’d decided to go over to him — or at least to agree to split the power with him.   So at the end of the year, he didn’t need me anymore.   And then comes the whole time turner loop.   Ron and Hermione and I just barely escaped being eaten by a werewolf, and quite frankly it would have been better for Dumbledore if the Dementors had gotten Sirius — but instead, he takes the opportunity to send Hermione and me out, allegedly to save Sirius and Buckbeak, but really so I’d have another go at getting killed?   Weak evidence, I know, but given everything else, a possibility."

"Fourth year.   He had to have been in this one from the ground up.   Jesus, where do I start?   Moody.   How in hell did Barty Crouch Jr. learn so much about you to be able to fool Albus ‘All I Have To Do Is Twinkle At You And I Know Your Life Story’ Dumbledore?   The man is a master Legilimens and Occlumens, apparently second only to Voldemort, if his comments at the end of fifth year are to be believed, but I’ll get to that later.   So, we have Barty Crouch Junior as Alastor Moody as DADA teacher, most likely with Dumbledore’s knowledge.   The Goblet of Fire, and that whole fiasco with my name in the Goblet.   He personally guaranteed that no one would hoodwink the judge.   And yet my name came wafting up out of that fucking cup.   If Dumbledore really was protecting the cup, then he’s a total incompetent.   But if he really is ‘the greatest wizard of our time’, then he had to be in on it.   How did my name get into that Goblet?   Anyone have any guesses?   Maybe you, Moody?"

"Enough with the cute repartee, Potter.   Get on with it," the grizzled old Auror growled at him.

"Okay, don’t get your knickers in a twist," Harry said brightly, blowing him a mock kiss.   "The fake Moody drops my name in and helps me all through the year, trying to make sure I win, so that the portkey he’s turned that Tournament Cup into will take me to Voldemort."   He paused.   "Why not grab me at the beginning of the year, before I had any ability to protect myself in any way?   Or at any time during the year?   I was alone with him more than once. I don’t believe that the spell Moldie enacted had a time constraint, such as being performed under a full moon, or must be done in early June.   Or why not grab any other student?   He referred to Cedric as ‘the spare’, which implies he would have served the purpose as well."   He shrugged.   "That’s Tom’s problem.   His plans are too damned convoluted.   Be that as it may be, when I come out of the maze carrying Cedric’s body, who does Dumbledore allow to take me to the castle?   The very man who put me in that predicament.   When his insanity lets too much slip, Dumbledore allows Dementors on the grounds again, in time to kiss Crouch so that he can’t give anything away.   And I still remember that look of triumph that went through Dumbledore’s eyes for just a moment when he heard how Tom and I share a blood link now.   This is the best possible outcome for him — Voldemort is back, but there’s still the possibility to use me against him if necessary.   If he turned out to be a less — compliant — business partner than Dumbledore expected."

"Fifth year was the worst of them.   Suddenly, this man who acted as my grandfather for four years doesn’t even want to know me.   At the end of the year, he hints that it’s because the link that Tom and I share would allow Tom to come in and read Dumbeldore’s mind."   He paused.   "Excuse me?   One of the most powerful Occlumens around is worried about a fifteen year old boy carrying a Dark Wizard in his head?   I did a little studying, and there’s no way that Tom could have pulled that much power through the link.   If so, he could simply have ejected my mind and taken over in my brain, and then he’d be back.   So Dumbledore’s worries about having his mind read by Voldemort just don’t work.   He wants me to come to him with problems, yet he won’t even look at me, and now treats me exactly the same as the other students, which is how he should have been treating me from the beginning.   I started that summer angry, never having gotten grief counselling for Cedric’s death, and I think that he acted the way he did for the purpose of keeping me on edge and angry.   And I won’t even begin to go into his treatment of the people around him as mildly stupid and acting condescending to them.   Cage someone who spent twelve years in prison unfairly.   Tell them they’re back in a prison again, although they’re ‘free’, because it’s for their own good.   Do what you can to make him stir-crazy, and then when he goes and gets himself killed, supposedly, blame it on him for not doing the right thing!"   He paused and calmed himself slightly, since he had begun to shout.   "And, while the boy who brought him to his death is grieving in the minutes after causing that death, quietly blame the one who died for his own death, and hint that he did in fact deserve to die, even though you’ll never use those words.   Kick him while he’s down, too.   Tell him the prophecy you’ve known since before he was born.   Let this boy who hates death know that it’s either kill or be killed.   No other way."

"I was still a useful pawn against Voldemort, you see.   And partnership or not, Voldemort still wanted to know what was in that prophecy.   But from this point on, it’s best for Dumbledore that I be an emotional wreck and unable to figure out how I’m being used."

"Let’s keep going while I have momentum.   We now get to the summer that I left England.   I said something to some people during that summer.   It was rather important in an odd way, since it concerned the Dursleys.   Other than myself, Tonks, or Aunt Petunia, can anyone here tell me what that conversation was about?"

"How could we?" Moody said.

"Did you ever see a report about that conversation, Madam Bones?   Kingsley — sorry, Mister Shacklebolt?"

"No, Tonks never put in a report about it," Amelia Bones replied.   "Why?"

"Because the report went to Dumbledore, as an important aspect of my guarding, and he would have disseminated it where he felt it best needed to go," Harry replied.   "Make sure those who needed to know knew, if that makes sense."

"What did the report say, Harry?" Fred asked.

Petunia spoke up.   "Harry informed me that he honestly didn’t care whether or not V … You Know Who tortured and killed us.   He said that it bothered him that he was likely to throw a party when he heard that Voldemort had killed us.   Honestly, for the way we treated him, we deserve death."   She had tears in her eyes.

"That was what I told her.   I didn’t give a good God damn if they were murdered by an insane wizard.   I disappeared from England before the blood protections were completed, if I understand things properly.   They should have been easy to find and deal with, and I was convinced Voldemort would have used them to lure me back — if he’d thought it would be any use.   Yet nothing happened to them.   I’ve heard people say that they still want to deal with the Dursleys — which means they were left alone by both sides."   He looked at Petunia suddenly.   "Divorce?"   When she nodded, he asked, "Evans?" and received a second nod.   He grinned widely at her to her obvious surprise.

He shook his head.   "Now, she knew," he said, pointing at her, "and the only other three who knew were me, who was in the United States later that day; Tonks, who was working hard to find me and catch me; and Dumbledore.   Since Tonks and I have been in the States for four years, and it’s fairly obvious that my aunt didn’t have Death Eater ties, who else would have told Voldemort that it was a lost cause to attack the Dursley home?   Who else could have?"

There were scowls around the table.   Harry was obviously making a good case for his point of view, and that was seriously disturbing them.   Harry bulled onward.   "Now we get into things that have happened recently.   Lucius Malfoy was killed, and a Dark Mark was seen over his home.   Am I the only one that finds that a little odd?   How often are Dark Marks seen floating over the homes of Pureblood wizards?   This happens after Voldemort takes on a new advisor that no one else has ever seen or heard.   Voldemort kills his right hand man?   Something is going wrong here."

"Then we get to Fudge’s death through the natural cause of a knife to his ribs.   Who knew about that meeting?   I’d imagine that it wasn’t trumpeted in all the papers, was it?   And who was he meeting?   Dumbledore.   Fudge had also covered up the Dark Mark floating over the Malfoy home.   Someone in Moldie’s crew was likely quite angry at the cover-up.   Not many knew that he was meeting with Dumbledore, did they?   That tends to lower the list of suspects immensely."   He turned to face Moody and Remus.   "By the way, were either Mundungus or Snape ever punished for anything about four years ago, just after I left?"   They shook their heads.   "Trust Dumbledore to sweep it under the rug once I was gone and not getting snarky about it."

"What are you talking about?" Amelia Bones asked.

"The day that I blew out the wall in Dumbledore’s office for him threatening to put Tonks in Azkaban for loving me, we’d gone there to tell him about the rapes and to request that some sort of punishment be meted out to the guard on the days in question at the beginning of the summer after fourth year.   Yeah, I’d been raped a couple times early that summer.   And it was during the period when I was supposedly under surveillance by the Order.   Someone knew, and allowed it to happen by malicious intent.   Probably watched.   Anyway, we get told that he’ll do something about it, and then he asked to speak with us separately.   Then he threatened her job to get us to break up.   When I went in, he informed me that we were going to break up — for my safety, her safety, and the safety of the Order.   When I balked, he pulled out the big guns by getting all fatherly and doing the ‘this is for your own good’ shtick when he informed me that he would request that Amelia Bones bring the full weight of her position down upon Tonks, up to and including putting her in Azkaban for six months if necessary.   That was supposed to impress me with how important it was that I be safe, that he’d do that to a friend of his."   Harry shrugged.   "All it did was prove to me that I can never trust him.   I blew out the wall and headed for Gringott’s, with the help of Fawkes.   And the fact that Fawkes abandoned him told me everything else I needed to know at that point."

"Where is Fawkes, or don’t you know?" Remus asked.

The American crew chuckled.   "He’s busy being a daddy at the moment.   Hedwig apparently seduced him."   The chuckles spread to the rest of the crew.

Moody spoke up.   "You make a compelling case, Harry, but none of it proves beyond the shadow of a doubt.   Anything else you can give us?"

"Now we get to the one thing that sold me on the issue of Dumbledore as Dark Lord.   Moira, since it was you who reported the prophecy, would you care to repeat it to our eager ears?"

"Do I need to do that voice, too?" she asked with a smile.

"Not unless you want to.   Sounds like it’s a bit rough on the windpipe, you know?"

"It is," she laughed, but sobered quickly.   "Okay, this prophecy was reported through me, and unlike Sybil Trelawney, I remember the prophecies I make."   She closed her eyes for a moment before reopening them and saying, "The Dark Lord rises at the Dark Lord’s death and falls by his right hand … betrayer shall become saviour by betraying the saviour … deceit is the Dark Lord’s coin, and in silver shall he be paid … the Dark Lord rises at the Dark Lord’s death and falls by his right hand …"   She shook her head.   "That’s what it said."

"If Dumbledore is our traitor, then what hope do we have?" Amelia Bones asked.   "If the greatest living wizard on the side of Light has gone dark, then how can we even begin to fight him?"

"Easy," Fred replied.   "Pay attention to it.   This prophecy predicts the fall of the new Dark Lord.   The one Harry reported simply says that one or the other must die.   This one states that Harry wins against Voldemort."

Harry winced.   "It doesn’t predict my survival, folks, although I’m pretty damned sure I will survive.   But Fred’s right.   Not only does it state that Voldemort is going down, but his successor will too."

"Can’t be a real prophecy then," George laughed.   "It makes sense, and tells us something useful!"

"Maybe, but you explain the betrayer and saviour lines," Hermione said with a chuckle.   "Does the silver reference mean that Pettigrew finally turns on Voldemort and helps Harry win?"

"Beats me," Fred said.   "Our question now is how to defeat Voldemort.   Kinda need to worry about that before we start thinking about dealing with anyone else, you know?"

Harry laughed.   "Oh, I’ve known how to defeat Voldemort for more than two years now.   Figured it out while I was still at the Norton Academy."   Everyone looked at him as if he had suddenly turned purple and grown a hand out of the middle of his forehead.   "What?   It’s so simple that a seventh year could do it, with some training, at least.   I figured it out while I was working on something."   He reached out with his wand and said, "Accio bag!"

His small bag came floating down the stairs, and flew into his hands.   Setting it down, he opened the top and pulled out several of his wizarding PDAs, passing them around.   "This will likely prove useful as well," he said.   "The record function especially."

"So how will you defeat him?" Moody asked.

"Not saying.   It’s so dangerous that I’m taking the secret to my grave."

"All well and good," Kingsley Shacklebolt said, "but how does this prove that Dumbledore is the traitor?"

"This prophecy came right on the tail of my discovery that nothing was ever done to the Dursleys — a very unusual thing in itself.   I mean, it literally was within a minute of learning that.   Strikes me that the two are sort of connected, wouldn’t you say?"

The table was silent once again while the assembled people mulled over the evidence that Harry had brought before them.   Even though those who had been in America had heard it before, this was the first time they had heard it delivered as a presentation, rather than Harry offering it up to be punctured.

Finally, Fred and George looked up.   As they did, Moody stood and grumbled.   "Damn you, Potter.   I used to trust that man, but I can’t logically poke holes in your evidence.   I could probably find someone else that fit, but I’d have to stretch it too far."

"Occam’s Razor," Hermione said.   "‘Plurality should not be posited without necessity.’   Most people think of it as something like ‘The simplest explanation is usually the right one.’   The shortest version I’ve heard though, is KISS — Keep It Simple, Stupid."

"A lesson that neither Dumbly or Tommy have learned yet, thank Merlin," Fred said with a grin.   "So, Commander Potter, what is our next move?"

"Get me a meeting with Dumbledore.   I’ll get him to make the next move."

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