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'Lucky me,' Harry said. 'I lose the cool dark wizard soul part and get to swap it for some weird, wannabe god.'
'From all of this Horcrux business and the fact that he looks like a snake, I believe that Lord Voldemort also fits into the category of "weird, wannabe god." ' He paused. 'And if I am weird, then what are you?'
Harry tuned Loki out and resumed looking at Dumbledore. "Anyway, why are you even telling me this? Don't you want to keep up your whole shadowy manipulator thing?"
One of Dumbledore's bushy eyebrows floated upwards and his eyes twinkled. "I must say, it is rather refreshing for one to be so open with me, rather than speaking of such things behind my back."
"Don't worry—I say lots behind your back as well. So does the voice in my head. Now stop avoiding my question, you shadowy manipulator."
As though a switch had been flipped, Dumbledore's expression became grave. "I did not want you to endanger yourself in a quest for the truth." He hesitated. "There is another thing I wanted to tell you…"
Harry motioned for him to continue.
"There is a prophecy concerning you and Lord Voldemort."
Harry groaned. "Really?"
Dumbledore nodded and reached into his desk, producing a crystal ball swirling with mist and handing it to Harry. As he touched it, a voice filled the room, echoing as though it was simultaneously coming from everywhere and nowhere.
"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..."
Gently, Harry placed the ball back upon the table, leaning back in his seat. "Well…" he said, "that sucks."
'I know,' said Loki. For a moment, he was silent. 'It didn't even rhyme.'
'Yes,' Harry deadpanned. 'That was exactly what I was thinking.'
He glanced up at Dumbledore. "I'm assuming this is why I survived the Killing Curse?"
"Yes, I believe that is one reason among others."
"So, what are we going to do about this?"
Dumbledore smiled. "So eager to work with me, Harry? From our past tensions I would have thought you might think differently."
Harry waved him off. "I only didn't like you because you were a headmaster, or something like that. I have a short memory and hit my head quite often; I'm not very good at holding grudges—I mainly leave them to my imaginary friend."
"Of course, of course. Alas, I did not plan on telling you of the prophecy until much later on, but with Voldemort's resurrection and your battle with him, I thought it prudent to tell you now. And although you will be the one to strike the final blow upon Voldemort, I feel as though you should not enter the fray just yet."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "I killed most of his important Death Eaters. Wouldn't the best time to strike be whilst he rallies his surviving troops?"
Dumbledore hesitated.
"Ah." Harry nodded in understanding. "You don't want me getting myself killed or captured."
Dumbledore nodded. "Your death would, understandably, be quite an awful tragedy."
Harry shrugged. "What can I say? People love me." He paused. "They're probably gonna love me even more when I save them from the big, bad Dark Lord Voldemort."
"I'm glad to see you're confident, but you mustn't underestimate Voldemort. From your account of the battle, you caught him off-guard and weakened." Dumbledore grimaced. "Voldemort will not allow that to happen again, and I fear that the next time you meet will prove fatal for you if you are alone."
Harry nodded; he knew it to be true. "Perhaps he will be weakened by the fact he doesn't have his wand."
"Perhaps," said Dumbledore, "though I do not find it likely Voldemort will let such matters prevent him from doing whatever he desires—not for long, anyway."
Harry decided it would be best not to mention the blood of Asgardians and Jotuns that Voldemort had used in his ritual. That would achieve nothing. He could only hope that it was hindering Voldemort rather than helping him—especially since Voldemort had his wand, which might work in accordance with the Jotun blood.
"So," Harry said, "you want me to go and hide?"
"Perhaps," Dumbledore said bluntly. "In the past you have proven rather good at it, and with Hogwarts' recent infiltration by Voldemort's agent, Barty Crouch, it is not the best place for you to be. There is, however, another safe place."
Harry raised an eyebrow and waited for Dumbledore to clarify.
"During the last war with Voldemort, I lead an organisation against Voldemort's Death Eaters." He smiled sadly. "Your parents were part of the group before they were forced into hiding by the aforementioned prophecy."
"My, my," Harry murmured. "Who would've thought that Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts would ever break the law—do something so vile as to lead a vigilante group? Where do I go to report you?"
Dumbledore smiled again. "As the head of the Wizengamot, I ensure you that you can send your formal complaint to me and it will be investigated fully."
Harry nodded. "I'll send it to you straight away," he said. "What's your group called? You know, so I can put it in the report."
"The Order of the Phoenix."
The phoenix perched on a stand across the room trilled. Harry glanced at it. "Inspired by him, I presume. Or some tripe about rising from the ashes."
"Of course."
"And you want me to join your vigilante group?"
"Not particularly, but I would like you to meet some of its members."
Harry frowned. "Am I being used as a tool to raise morale?"
"In part," Dumbledore admitted, "but some of the members have been wishing to meet you."
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