I walked through the wide halls, occasionally kicking a piece of tattered rubble from my path, on which I slowly strolled. The ripped-up floor was almost completely stained red, splattered with the blood of countless wizards. The bodies, both of the Death Eaters and those rebelling against them, had all been collected from around Hogwarts, and now lay deep underground. As my feet sub-consciously found the support of the staircase I was climbing, I heard a noise behind me. I spun around, raising my wand quickly, but nothing was there; nothing was moving. 'Nothing can hurt me now - Voldemort is gone,' I thought to myself, deciding the sound was merely a piece of rubble or rock I had unknowingly dislodged. I turned to continue pacing aimlessly around the school when, so suddenly I barely registered what was happening, the ground beneath me moved. I staggered to the handrail of the staircase, and it took me a couple of seconds to realise that there was nothing wrong: it was simply a moving stairway, one which is so common in Hogwarts. I kicked myself for not remembering, but decided it was the fact the place was deserted, isolated - with an eerie atmospheric feel - that I hadn't expected any sign of life. Any movement at all. The stairs came to a halt and my grip on the handrail kept me standing. I decided this way was as good a way to go as any, and so continued on, through an archway. I recognised this place as the way I had walked to the Divination classroom for each lesson, years ago. The home of the seemingly crazy woman who had practically lived in the classroom. But that was all in the past. This part of the castle wasn't as damaged as the rest of the castle. It still had the faint glow of good magic - of harmless spells and happy memories. I hated it. It reminded me too much of the unforgivable actions of Voldemort and the Death Eaters. I found a small rock, the only rubble visible and kicked it. A soft, metallic 'Clang' sounded as the rock collided with the ladder which lead to the Divination classroom. I sighed as I approached, wondering whether it was wise to enter. I decided it was probably a bad idea, because I hated that room while I was at Hogwarts, let alone now. But I scaled the ladder anyway. I stepped into the room, and was flooded with unwanted memories and unneeded flashbacks. I pushed my feelings back down and stepped forward, when a hand grabbed my shoulder. I jumped in the air and was spun around only to see a figure. Her abnormally large, rounded glasses made her eyes appear huge as they stared at me. I had only once before seen Professor Trelawney look like this; and that was in my third year at Hogwarts, when she had given me the prophecy about Sirius and Pettigrew. More bad memories… I strained to keep my face expressionless, but I failed. Then she opened her mouth and began speaking in that harsh, freaky, masculine voice which just didn't fit her physical appearance.
"Tonight's battle may seem a victory,
But it was in fact only one battle in the war.
In twenty years, your wound will once again ache,
And you will be forced to summon up courage you have never dreamed.
Only the twinkling eye in the shard of hope,
Will save you from eternal misery."
Rather than hearing her words, I absorbed them. They sank into my skin as I finally ripped her hand, fingernails digging into my soft flesh, from my shoulder. She seemed to snap out of her trance, as if someone just clicked their fingers. But nobody was around. We were alone.
"P-potter dear," She seemed to have no recollection of the events which just occurred.
"I was just leaving." I lied. She did not reply, but simply smiled as I staggered over to the ladder. But I didn't see the crystal ball lying on the floor. I tripped over and fell to the ground, the metal rungs of the ladder stained with dirt and blood. I was lying, flat on my chest, with an object pressing into my abdomen. The fall, though painful, didn't leave me with anything except some bruises. I sat up and saw the pouch Hagrid had given me secured around my neck. I didn't remember putting it on. I didn't remember wearing it as I walked through the rubble, and climbed the ladder. I opened up the little pouch and pulled my hand out instinctively, for my hand was now bleeding. I cast a quick charm on it. I know if Hermione had been here, she'd scold me for my messy healing spell – but it was enough for now. I reached in again, carefully pulling out the object within. And I remembered how, twice from my knowledge, Trelawney had made prophecies while being in a trance-like state and twice she had been completely accurate. Would this one, too, turn out to be true. The only way to find out was to wait. And turning the piece of the mirror over I saw a bright blue eye. An eye which seemed to scan me. An eye which seemed to belong behind a pair of half-moon spectacles. The eye of Aberforth Dumbledore.
"Tonight's battle may seem a victory,
But it was in fact only one battle in the war.
In twenty years, your wound will once again ache,
And you will be forced to summon up courage you have never dreamed.
Only the twinkling eye in the shard of hope,
Will save you from eternal misery."
Rather than hearing her words, I absorbed them. They sank into my skin as I finally ripped her hand, fingernails digging into my soft flesh, from my shoulder. She seemed to snap out of her trance, as if someone just clicked their fingers. But nobody was around. We were alone.
"P-potter dear," She seemed to have no recollection of the events which just occurred.
"I was just leaving." I lied. She did not reply, but simply smiled as I staggered over to the ladder. But I didn't see the crystal ball lying on the floor. I tripped over and fell to the ground, the metal rungs of the ladder stained with dirt and blood. I was lying, flat on my chest, with an object pressing into my abdomen. The fall, though painful, didn't leave me with anything except some bruises. I sat up and saw the pouch Hagrid had given me secured around my neck. I didn't remember putting it on. I didn't remember wearing it as I walked through the rubble, and climbed the ladder. I opened up the little pouch and pulled my hand out instinctively, for my hand was now bleeding. I cast a quick charm on it. I know if Hermione had been here, she'd scold me for my messy healing spell – but it was enough for now. I reached in again, carefully pulling out the object within. And I remembered how, twice from my knowledge, Trelawney had made prophecies while being in a trance-like state and twice she had been completely accurate. Would this one, too, turn out to be true. The only way to find out was to wait. And turning the piece of the mirror over I saw a bright blue eye. An eye which seemed to scan me. An eye which seemed to belong behind a pair of half-moon spectacles. The eye of Aberforth Dumbledore.