Wow. This is really random!

Disclaimer: I own none of the Harry Potter characters.

Dinner was particularly delightful that fateful evening. The entree consisted of apple chicken and roasted potatoes, two of Harry's most palate-pleasing comestibles. Hermione and Ron had made up after the row that had occurred between them that afternoon, and were pleasantly teasing each other. Feeling well-fed and content, Harry glanced up at the ceiling of the Great Hall. It was a mystical gyration of pink, orange, and crimson hues.

Suddenly, Dumbledore rose and took a stand in front of the students. His face was devoid of its usual merriment and had been replaced with a more solemn countenance. The teachers looked puzzled. The students, sensing that Dumbledore was going to give a significant speech, hurried to shoosh and bark at each other to be silent. When at last he had everyone's full attention, Dumbledore began.

"I have recently read a great play, written by a man that, judging by his work, could very well have possessed magical powers." Dumbledore paused.

"He interrupted our dinner to tell us about a story he read! …" George began, but Hermione elbowed him in the ribs.

"There exists in this drama, Julius Caesar, by the Great Shakespeare, a metaphor that is relevant to you here at Hogwarts. Some men in this play believed that they had no control over their futures, that their fate was written into the stars. I hold no truck with that nonsense, which is why fortune telling is no longer a class available at this school. It is my belief that men have control over their fates and their futures. Their lives are not pre-mapped out. The decisions you will make could help you along the path you choose to follow, or cut you like a sword. Be wise." Dumbledore took his seat. By then, the food had melted away from the plates, and the students filed out of the hall, perplexed by their headmaster's enigmatic oration.

"I think that was an if–you-slack-off in-your-classes-you'll–never-get-a- good-job-when-you're-older speech." Ron had clearly blown the whole thing off already.

The speech had given Harry an odd feeling in his gut. "I dunno, Ron, but I think that talk went a little deeper than that…," Harry muttered. He happened to glance at the ceiling again. This time, ominous-looking black clouds were invading the pastel serenity Harry had admired a few minutes before.