The Headmaster Was a Strange Old Man

Loren came over to the square table in the dormitory and sat down, pouring himself a glass of water. "It was precisely because Voldemort learned the prophecy, believed it, and acted according to Professor Trelawney's prophecy that your fates and souls became entwined."

"..."

Harry sat down beside him, listening with a serious expression.

"To some extent, the prophecy prompted these things to happen, but that doesn't mean everything was predetermined. This world isn't a story with an ending written by prophecy."

Loren took a sip of water from his teacup. "Think back on everything you've experienced and try to suppose this: if Voldemort hadn't killed your father, would you have developed such a deep, unforgettable hatred? If he hadn't forced your mother, would he still have had his body destroyed by his own Killing Curse and fallen from power?"

"Doesn't that just prove the prophecy? It means the ending of the story was written long ago."

Harry frowned tightly and couldn't help asking, "Even without the prophecy guiding things, those events could still have happened through other means. At the time, the Death Eaters were hunting down members of the Order of the Phoenix, and my mother was Muggle-born. On the other hand, Wormtail had already joined the Death Eaters. Every sign pointed toward that ending."

"But have you ever considered that the boy born at the end of July, the family that escaped Voldemort three times, Voldemort's destined nemesis, the star of salvation, the Chosen One, was never you in the first place?" Loren's tone was calm and unhurried. "Neville's birthday is only one day before yours, and the Lumbard couple also escaped his clutches three times."

Harry turned to look at his dependable roommate, who was soothing the dispute in front of the mirror.

Loren continued guiding