Chapter 1. The Prophecy
A cool breeze wafted in through the open window, ruffling the pages of a book Albus Dumbledore was poring over. The book was entitled 'The Rise Of The Dark Lord'. Sighing, Dumbledore closed the book and stood up. There was nothing in these pages he did not already know about Tom Riddle, yet there had to be something that might help him. He knew it. If only he could find what he was looking for. A clattering sound from the window made him look round. A tawny owl had just landed on the sill, a grubby-looking letter attached to its leg. Dumbledore hurried to take the letter from it before opening and scanning it.
Dear Mr. Dumbledore,
I am writing in response to the job advertisement in the Daily Profit. I believe you are looking for a new Divination teacher at Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft And Wizardry. I would be delighted to fill this post, and have attached a resume for your benefit. Please consider my application.
Yours sincerely,
Sybill Trelawney.
Dumbledore thought for a moment, before taking a fresh peace of parchment from his desk, and writing a reply.
Dear Ms Trelawney,
I am very glad of your offer to take up the post of Divination teacher at Hogwarts, and I would be delighted to meet you for an interview. Would you be available at 9:00 pm on July 22nd? I do not mind where we meet. The choice is yours.
Yours truly,
Albus Dumbledore.
Dumbledore attached the letter to the leg of the waiting owl, which soared off into the night. He had not really been looking for a new Divination teacher at Hogwarts. He had simply put the advertisement in the Profit when old Professor Tarrigan had resigned, privately thinking he would rather have dropped the subject altogether. Upon quickly scanning the resume, however, he discovered that Sybill Trelawney was the great-great-granddaughter of the very famous prophet, Casandra Trelawney.
"Why not?" thought Dumbledore, as he strode over to replace his book on a shelf. He might even find that she would be a good asset to the school.
The rain was falling in icy sheets. It beat relentlessly down upon the buildings in the village, which were huddled against the cold onslaught. The wind gusted threateningly, and a pale mist permeated the air, drifting lazily through the village. All windows were shut tight to keep out the cold, and any unwelcome intruders. 'You Know Who' had been sighted several days ago quite near the village, and all knew when it was best to stay hidden.
A tall, thin figure, wrapped in a dark cloak, materialized at the end of the street. Pulling the cloak tighter about himself, Dumbledore strode down the dark street, occasionally glancing left and right at the boarded-up windows. It was a cold night, and Dumbledore would not have chosen to be out here. He did, however, have an interview with the candidate for the post of Divination teacher at Hogwarts. She had said she was the great-great-granddaughter of the famous seer, Cassandra Trelawney. Dumbledore thought he might as well come to see what she was like, although he himself was not particularly keen on the subject of divination.
Dumbledore hurried into a dingy side street, and into a small and shabby-looking pub, with an old sign nailed up outside it, which read "The Hogs Head". Giving the barman a wave, and passing by the pub's only customer-a sallow-skinned wizard with greasy hair, Dumbledore ducked through a door at the back of the pub, and went up a narrow flight of stairs. At the top, he turned right along a corridor, and knocked on the third door along. He didn't notice the black eyes of the greasy-haired wizard widen in recognition, nor did he hear the quiet scrape of a chair as the man got stealthily to his feet, and followed him up the stairs.
"Come in," called a dreamy-sounding female voice from within.
Dumbledore entered the tiny room, which was sparsely furnished with a hard wooden bed, a dresser, a tiny wardrobe and a couple of hard-backed chairs. Sitting in one of the chairs was a woman, draped in many shawls and necklaces. She wore spectacles, which magnified her already huge eyes, and she had a not-quite-there look about her, which did nothing to improve Dumbledore's already rather dubious opinion of her.
"Good evening, Ms Trelawney." Dumbledore said pleasantly, moving into the room and quietly closing the door behind him. He smiled at her.
"Greetings to you, headmaster of Hogwarts." The woman said vaguely, readjusting a gaudy necklace of beads around her neck.
"I believe you applied for a post at Hogwarts." Dumbledore said kindly, casting off his cloak and sitting down in a chair opposite her.
"That I did, that I did." Said the woman.
"I foresaw that I would be obtaining the job in the coming year, you see"
"Aah. Yes indeed." Said Dumbledore, feeling rather impatient, but carefully disguising this.
"You might scorn me, but do hear me out, headmaster. I possess the inner eye as nobody in my family has done since my great-great-grandmother, the most celebrated Casandra Trelawney. I see things that ordinary people do not, and I can read the signs as no one I have ever met has been able to. I truly do possess the powers of the inner eye. The fates have informed me that many gifted and talented students will be requiring my services up at the school this year, and we must not allow their abilities to be wasted.■
⌠Indeed, we must not.■ Dumbledore agreed quickly. He had the distinct impression that this 'seer' was slightly mad.
"May I ask, have you ever predicted anything of major consequence?" asked Dumbledore tentatively.
"Oh yes, indeed!" exclaimed Sybill Trelawney indignantly, raising herself up to her full (and rather inconsequential) height.
"Of course." Dumbledore replied politely, smiling.
"What have you predicted?"
"I... I... once predicted the death of my niece's pet toad, 2 months before it happened." Sybill said, rather lamely.
"How very... very insightful." Dumbledore said, doing his best to appear impressed, rather than amused.
"And I also predicted the terrible snowstorm which buried my father, rest his soul, 8 years ago." She kept on, doing her best to sound convincingly mysterious.
Dumbledore was privately remembering the weather forecast which he had watched on the muggle news the night before the incident, which had also predicted a heavy snowstorm.
"Yes, that snowstorm was very... unfortunate." He said sincerely.
"Oh yes!" Sybill said loudly. "I just knew that something terrible was to happen that night, and I have learnt never to doubt the unquestionable wisdom of the inner eye. I was not sure what would happen, and so could not foreworn my father. It is a sad, sad story..."
"Anything else?" asked Dumbledore.
"Oh yes! I predicted my mother would break a teapot around 5 minutes before it happened." Sybill said quickly.
Dumbledore was thinking about Sybill Trelawney's mother, a shy and rather jumpy witch, who had never been known to handle a breakable object without doing some damage to it.
"How long have you been making these... predictions?" Dumbledore asked.
"Oh, since I was exactly 16 years old!" said Sybill enthusiastically.
"I woke on the morning of my birthday, and gazed into the crystal ball my mother had given me when I was a very small child, as I do every morning, to this day. And what did I see?"
She paused dramatically for effect. Dumbledore gazed at her with polite interest.
"I instantly knew that I would be receiving a new set of purple robes that day, along with a green shawl!" she exclaimed excitedly, jumping up.
"Aah, how delightful." Dumbledore said benevolently.
"And... did you receive a new set of purple robes and a green shawl?" Dumbledore asked. It was better to know the truth.
"Yes." Sybill ended defiantly, sinking back into her chair.
There was a rather awkward silence, during which Dumbledore surveyed the woman before him.
"Well, if that is all, I must go now. I have matters to attend to back at the castle." Dumbledore said finally.
"And the post?" Sybill asked, rather pointedly.
"I thank you for your time, Ms Trelawney. Whilst I am sure that you do possess the... er, rare gift of the inner eye, it is with the deepest regret that I must inform you, that I do not think you are very suited to the post of Divination teacher at our school. "
He rose and donned his cloak.
"I am sure I will be seeing you some time soon. Good night"
"Farewell, headmaster." Sybill replied stiffly, remaining seated.
"I hope-I know you will have a... a good fortune."
Dumbledore strode quickly towards the door. He was on the verge of opening it, when a harsh, loud voice made him turn. Sybill Trelawney was sitting bolt upright in her chair, her eyes rolled back in her head, speaking in a ringing voice Dumbledore would never have expected to come from one such as her.
"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..."
As Dumbledore listened, he heard a commotion outside the door, and the barman appeared, gripping the young, sallow-skinned man by the arm. The young man looked as a child does, when he has just been caught stealing candy.
"Unhand me at once! I... wanted to apply for a job at Hogwarts too, and I... saw the headmaster coming up here." The man babbled. He did not fail to keep his voice down, and it suddenly occurred to Dumbledore why this man, Severus Snape, was here, listening at the door.
"...Just took a wrong turn and found myself..." Snape gabbled.
As Sybill was still talking, Dumbledore quickly motioned for the man to be taken from the building.
"...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..."
Sybill Trelawney slumped forward in her chair, then blinked, and looked wildly around.
"I must apologize, headmaster, I think I dozed off. I'm rather tired, you know." She said distantly.
Dumbledore was studying her with real interest now.
"Is... there any particular reason you're still here, headmaster?" asked Sybill.
"Hmmm. I have reviewed my decision about your appointment at Hogwarts. You may be more appropriate for the job than I first thought." Dumbledore replied thoughtfully.
"You shall hear from me within the next month."
Turning, he exited the room, quietly shutting the door behind him and hurrying along the passage, and down the stairs. The pub was deserted, apart from the barman, who was cleaning glasses.
"Where did Severus Snape go after you removed him from the building?" Dumbledore asked urgently.
"Not a clue. Disapparated right there and then. Looked in a hurry to be off." The barman replied, bemused.
"Right." Said Dumbledore. He swept from the pub, and disapparated with a small pop.
Severus Snape ran as fast as he could toward the stately old mansion where his master was currently residing. He hammered impatiently on the door, waiting for someone to open it. The door was flung wide a moment later by a man with a pale, pointed face, and sleek blond hair.
"Lucius!" gasped Snape, trying to catch his breath.
"Severus. What do you want?" asked the man coolly.
"I need... see... Dark Lord. Important... prophecy about... boy who will..." Snape wheezed disjointedly.
"Pull yourself together man. The Dark Lord is busy. Whatever this prophecy is, it can wait. Or you can tell me." Lucius Malfoy said pompously.
"No!" came a high, cold voice from behind Lucius, who froze.
"Severus, you shall tell me at once what you have overheard"
Lucius was thrown bodily aside, and the tall, pale figure of Lord Voldemort came into view. He was gripping a wand, and his mad, red eyes were fixed on Severus.
"Yes, my lord." Severus murmured respectfully, bowing his head.
He followed Voldemort into the mansion, down a passage and into a small, fire lit room.
"Now, tell me Severus, what prophecy did you overhear?" asked Voldemort.
"My Lord, I... I heard it through a door in The Hog's Head, the pub in the village of Hogsmeade. It was a woman, a great-great-granddaughter of a famous prophet. She was talking to... To Albus Dumbledore. She said, she said something about a boy, who would be born as the seventh month dies. She said he would have power the Dark Lord knows not"
"Severus, stop your gabbling. The exact wording of the prophecy. Now." Voldemort said, in a voice of deadly calm.
"But my lord, I was thrown from the building before the prophet had finished"
"Crucio"
Severus writhed in agony, thrashing on the cold stones
of the floor as the curse cut into him like a thousand knives.
"Now, tell me Severus, what did the prophet say?"
"She said... she said..." whimpered Severus.
"She said, "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... The Dark Lord knows not...". And that was all I heard, that was all! I was thrown from the building... please, master, please!"
Voldemort lifted the curse lazily, and Severus scrambled to his feet, backing away from his master.
"You have done well, Severus, my friend, better than I would have expected from you. But you would do better next time, not to be caught listening so blatantly at keyholes!" he shrieked. "Now go!"
Severus stumbled from the room, and scurried down the passage, to where Lucius was standing.
"What did you have to tell the Dark Lord?" Lucius asked eagerly.
"That is something only he shall know." Severus snarled, pushing roughly past him. The aches left by the Cruciatus curse were still paining him, and he was in a foul temper. He stomped out of the house, and disapparated.
Sitting in the room at the end of the passage, Lord Voldemort was thinking. Who would ever possibly have the power to vanquish him? He, who was the most powerful wizard in all the world! Fully grown wizards fell before him, let alone a child... And why would he, Lord Voldemort, mark him as his equal? Yet still, something had to be done, and soon. Today was the 22nd of July, so the child would be born some time soon. It was now his job to see that it did not live for very long.
Sybill Trelawney sat huddled in a chair, in her room in the Hog's Head. She was reading a piece of parchment that was spread out on her knees, and muttering darkly.
"Why did he change his mind so suddenly about the job anyway? It can't have been because I dozed off. I mean, any decent headmaster would have left right away because of that! It was such a disgrace! Maybe he pities me... oh, I'll show him! I'll show him I'm not some freak who needs to be looked after and petted like some small child! I'll show him... 15 Galleons per week? What sort of bargain is that! I mean, I'm not complaining, I did want the job, but... why the sudden change of mind? And only 15 Galleons!..."
She snatched up the piece of parchment, flipped it over, and hurriedly scribbled a message that she would like to take the job, and would be there for the start of the coming year. She attached it to the leg of the owl, and watched it flutter out of the window, still muttering under her breath.
"...15 Galleons..."
Albus Dumbledore sat at his desk, a shallow stone basin before him. A silvery substance swirled within the basin. Dumbledore took his wand from his robes, and withdrew some more of the silvery substance from his head, before lowering it into the basin. He prodded the silvery thoughts, which seemed to eddy for a minute, before a ghostly figure rose from them. Sybill Trelawney revolved in the basin, her eyes wide and unfocussed, and began to speak.
"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 ┘"
Dumbledore regarded the revolving figure before him gravely. He thought over what Sybill Trelawney had said. A mere baby? Dumbledore found it highly doubtful that Tom Riddle would ever mark a child as his equal. Still, these days, anything was possible, and Severus Snape had more than likely gone and told his master of the prophecy.
And was this not just the vital clue he had been looking for? The secret key to defeating the most powerful dark wizard in history, once and for all? He, Dumbledore, had been the only wizard Tom had ever feared. He knew, however, that he would not be the one to finish Tom. It was a gut instinct he had had ever since Tom had risen to power. Dumbledore frowned slightly. Yes, this was what he had been looking for. Yet it was so bizarre, he could not help but wonder...
A/N: I've never tried this before, so please try to be nice, even if I do screw things up a little. Lol. This basically tells the story of James, Lily and Harry, Snape's redemption, Peter's betrayal, Voldemort's downfall etc. And I wouldn't mind some reviews.