Harry Potter felt his whole body shriek with pain as he landed against the brick wall that enclosed the alleyway he had found the person in. He held back a scream, looking at the white light that surrounded him. Pressure was building on him, and he felt his lungs give a heave. He raised his wand, flicking it and yelling out a breathless enchantment, not even understanding what he was doing. All his senses were being dulled; he could feel his head spinning. He heard a distant thud as something fell to the ground ahead of him. Harry slid down the wall, realizing too late that he had been about twelve feet in the air. He let out a moan as he hit the ground, feeling a bone crunch. On the job injuries were the worst, now he would have to fill out yet another form once he got back to headquarters. He stood up slowly, favoring his left leg as pain encompassed it. A pinch of anxiety reached inside him, wondering if he had truly just stunned the person or just hurt him a little. Harry ran his left hand through his scraggly jet-black hair. He was the same old Harry Potter; his face was defined, from the many times of not eating at the Dursley's. He stood a bit taller than in his teen years, but still nothing compared to Ron, his brother in law and best friend. His glasses sat on the bridge of his nose, ready to fall off. His lightning bolt scar pressed against his forehead, like it had the night he was given it. He pushed these thoughts back, however, limping over to the person and raising the hood.
"Blaise Zabini, do we have to do this every time," He grumbled, looking down at his old classmate. Blaise's nose was in an irregular position, showing the fact that it hadn't been healed properly after a bad break. His skin was also white and hazy, almost translucent. Harry chopped that up to the many times he had been admitted to Azkaban. There wasn't a lot of him, he was thin and wiry, Harry estimated about six foot seven or so. "Blaise, every time you get out, you do something stupid. Now you attacked me, you know you will go away for a long time because of this." He turned around to call Ron in, when his wand shot up. He looked at the lady standing before him. She was wobbling on a walking stick, her eyes big beneath her large glasses. Her white-brown hair stuck up all around her, and she seemed swimming in vibrant robes, deep shades of purple and blue with stars and moons all around them. Harry felt a flicker of recognition. She had changed so much in the past years.
"Professor Trelawney?" He questioned, lowering his wand a bit.
"The time has come, time to make things clear. The second is coming. The child of the Dark Lord has heired, and the time has come for the heir to take its rightful place, a place that must be stopped by the heir of the Boy Who Livedddddddddddddd..." her voice crackled as Harry watched in complete confusion. His brows knit as it ended, and she gave a raspy cough. "Excuse me."
"Professor. This is a restricted area. You must leave. Now." He felt panic settling, and he wanted to get her out so he could bring Blaise into Azkaban and go home. All the sudden nothing mattered. Trelawney had another prophesy, another one that would affect his life and those he loved. He felt helpless, like she had barely given him anything. How did he not know Voldemort had an heir? Wouldn't that have made the Daily Prophet? Why hadn't this son or daughter been the heir to take their rightful place? He couldn't visualize what Voldemort's child would look like. A chill ran up and down his back as he saw the red eyes in his head. He rubbed his eyes, how was he going to tell Ginny. Hadn't they been through enough? He shook his head, thinking of Al, Lily, Sirius, James, and little Drake. He brushed back his anger, ready to get everything done so he could sit down and figure all of these things out.
