Croaker continued with derision. "No? Why not? Where's Salazar Slytherin these days? Or all the other so-called 'Dark Lords' that have sprung up throughout the centuries? Dumbledore, do you honestly think that somebody, somewhere along the way, wouldn't have managed to successfully protect one?"
Dumbledore made no answer, but had an unbecoming look of befuddlement on his face.
Croaker shook his head as his temper flared. "Do you know why they're not still kicking, Albus? Because they…don't….bloody…work!" he hissed.
"But…" Dumbledore protested weakly, utterly confused for the first time in decades. "But…how did Voldemort return then, and why isn't this well-known?"
"I don't know how he came back, Albus, but it wasn't through a horcrux. The soul—if that's what it is—that is contained in a horcrux also dies when its creator dies. My best guess at this point is that the link that was created between Mr. Potter and the Dark Lord during the ritual somehow allowed him to survive that deflected killing curse. The lad's magic may have sustained him somehow. I just don't know yet…"
"As to your second question, most of the information on the horcrux ritual has been lost or destroyed. Some new wanker discovers them, and thinks he's found a way to become a god. He's not likely to share that information with others, is he now? The whole point of them is to keep them a secret, safe from destruction," Croaker finished.
Dumbledore's mouth had slipped open slightly as Croaker ranted at him. Perhaps I should have consulted with someone after all, he thought with dread.
Bones was listening in rapt attention as the two old men confronted each other.
"Now," Croaker continued in a low voice, "since we've established just how misinformed you are about the nature of the Dark Arts, let us continue by seeing what other colossal mistakes you've made. You show us that memory, Albus, before your ignorance dooms the entire wizarding world."
Dumbledore rubbed his forehead and thought furiously, trying to digest this new information. Some of what Croaker said made sense. If horcruxes did work, wouldn't someone have achieved immortality long before Voldemort? But then how had he managed to come back? He was, admittedly, at a loss.
"Alright," sighed Dumbledore, rising from his chair. "I can see your point, Algernon, but that still leaves us with the fact that the Dark Lord has returned. I will show you my memory of his first encounter with Harry; perhaps you can see something I missed."
When the trio emerged from Dumbledore's pensieve ten minutes later, Bones looked like she might be sick. She had not known the Potters well, but to see Lily Potter murdered in such cold blood made her heartsick. And the ritual that the Dark Lord had performed, intending to murder an infant, was truly repellent.
When they seated themselves again, Croaker regarded Dumbledore shrewdly.
"Alright, Albus, I think I see what you've been up to. You think that Voldemort screwed up and made a horcrux out of Potter, that the lad has to die to ensure the Dark Lord's destruction. You're likely mistaken about that, but why didn't you kill the child as an infant, rather than let him grow up?"
Dumbledore flushed slightly at having his most secret machinations pointed out so bluntly. He wasn't sure he had an answer that would satisfy them.
"Harry is not merely a horcrux," he said resignedly. "And even if he isn't, it does not change his destiny. There is a prophecy. Harry must die at the hands of the Dark Lord if we are to vanquish him forever."
Bones and Croaker exchanged looks. Prophecies were usually much more ambiguous than that, and neither was aware of a prophecy related to Harry Potter.
"What does the prophecy say, Albus, and who made it?" Bones asked.
Now Dumbledore was trapped. So far he could justify his behavior toward Harry, but this was precisely why he had not wanted Bones or anyone else informed of the Dark Lord's return. They might not approve of his plans for Harry, and he could not afford to have powerful opponents in the Ministry thwarting his plans to end the war. Revealing the prophecy now might only make it harder to get his hands on Harry, and Croaker would not be fooled by a fake one.
"I cannot say," Dumbledore said. "The prophecy was made to me by a reliable seer, and it is not safe for me to divulge its contents, even to you."
Croaker closed his eyes and sighed. "Which is to say that you've messed up again, Albus, and you don't want anyone to know. You have no legitimate reason to conceal a prophecy from myself or Madam Bones."
"Nevertheless," Dumbledore insisted, "that prophecy shall not be divulged today. And I grow weary of your condescension, Algernon. I have taken steps to make sure that Voldemort is destroyed forever. The status of Voldemort's horcruxes does not change the fact that Mr. Potter must die in order for the Dark Lord to die. It is unfortunate, and I wish it were not so, but it is. If you do not return Mr. Potter to me immediately, you will have the blood of thousands on your hands. You must heed me."
The pair considered Dumbledore in silence. He certainly seemed earnest in his belief, but Bones was incensed over being kept in the dark about such important matters.
"You've given us no reason to do so," she said heatedly. "You've concealed the return of Voldemort from those who must know, you've apparently made a serious mistake with regard to these 'horcruxes,' and you've confirmed my suspicions about what you've done to that boy's magic. You put a prisoner's block on him, didn't you, Albus?"
Dumbledore made no response, but eyed Bones coolly.
"You have nothing to say, Albus? What if you're wrong? You may have destroyed the boy's magic for no reason!"
"I am not wrong," Dumbledore said quietly. "I have thought this through for years, Amelia, and I am absolutely certain that this is the only way forward. That block will only give us added insurance that the prophecy will be fulfilled as it should be."
"Bloody hell, Albus!" Bones snapped, having lost all patience with the man.
"We are not your students! You are appointed to your position just as I am, and you are not the final authority on all matters of magic! You are the supposed leader of the Light, and here you are performing illegal dark binding rituals on teenagers! And you have the arrogance to refuse to say why! If I could, Albus, I swear I'd see you in Azkaban. Once we take out Voldemort, I may see you there anyway."
"What happens if you were to die, Albus?" Croaker added. "This supposedly essential secret information you possess—how is anyone else supposed to make use of it? You have no right to conceal that prophecy, legally or morally."
"And you don't have all the facts, Algernon," Dumbledore glared at him. "The plain truth of the matter is that Harry Potter must die—and as soon as possible—if we are to defeat the Dark Lord. I am not the one who is hindering the defeat of Voldemort. If you refuse to hand over Harry Potter, you will be doing so."
He was met with silence again.
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