DISCLAIMER : Not mine.
SUMMARY : This story takes place after the HBP. Albus Dumbledore is dead, and Severus Snape becomes Headmaster of Hogwarts. And then a new prophecy is made, making matters more complicated for Severus…
Prologue
A New Prophecy Made
It was a rainy summer night of mid-August.
Severus Snape was having a headache. He could still not find a Potions Master to take over the former post of Horace Slughorn. Slughorn, being who he was, left Hogwarts not long after the death of Albus Dumbledore and went into hiding. If Severus could not find one for the job, he would have to teach students while performing his duties as Headmaster as well.
But that was, perhaps, the least of his worries. Alecto and Amycus Carrow have just been given the posts of Professor for Muggle Studies and Dark Arts, respectively. It was on Dark Lord's orders, of course. Had it not been for it, Severus Snape would never have even considered giving the hateful bloodthirsty bastards posts at Hogwarts. Even thinking of what could possibly go wrong in their hands regarding the students…made Severus shiver.
"School had to have been closed." Severus grunted out, somewhat to himself.
"It is a sad pity the Carrows got the posts." a familiar voice said, concern evident in his voice.
Severus did not even bother to look to where the sound was coming from. It should not have been him sitting in this chair. This room should never have been his office, no. A pained expression formed upon his tired face as he remembered ever so vividly—the man's twinkling blue eyes boring into him, pleading…
"It would be daft for any sane parent to let their kids into the school run by a bunch of Death Eaters. The kids are doomed, there is no hope. I am hoping to resign."
"I know this must be hard for you, Severus, but I have faith in you—you and the rest of the staff will protect the students just fine from the Carrows, and hopefully, no significant harm will be done to any of our students."
"Ever the optimist, aren't you, old man? Like anyone believes me, thanks to you." scowled Severus darkly, still not eyeing the other participant of the gloomy conversation.
"You still have a hard time looking at me," said the portrait of Albus Dumbledore, the sadness in his voice so clear.
"I wouldn't be surprised—he killed you after all, Dumbledore!" was the unmistakable voice of Phineas Nigellus Black.
"Phineas!"
"Headmaster Black is quite right, actually," Severus growled. "And if you'll be so kind as to excuse me, I have other school business to attend to."
Severus got up from his desk and went over to the hearth. It was summer, but a fire was warmly cracking nonetheless, unaffecting the room temperature thanks to the cooling spell. Professor Trelawney, the Divination Professor, was expected in the Headmaster's office almost half an hour ago to discuss the class curriculum for the upcoming school year. But it was now evident that Trelawney had forgotten—a deep scowl formed in the Headmaster's face. To him, Divination had never even been 'tolerable'—he did not trust it to be a worthy subject to be taught, much less like it. But the Dark Lord apparently begged to differ; Dark Lord wanted prophecies—prophecies which at most would promise him of sacking, or which at least he could use to his advantages. The Dark Lord wanted powerful Seers who could provide him with vast knowledge of future—which was probably the reason why Severus organized the meeting with Trelawney this much late at night. The Dark Lord would undoubtedly want to know about what the 'new' curriculum of Divination(of course, the Dark Lord was perceptive enough to know that Trelawney's past teaching method wasn't working for him) was, in concerns to his need for powerful Seers.
Though Severus was recently the favorite of Dark Lord, he would be…reprimanded…for his idleness if he failed to inform him of what changes in Divination class will be made by the next summon. He would never risk such thing.
He grabbed a fistful of Floo Powders and voiced out his destination—"Professor Trelawney's office,"
As the green flames flared, Severus stepped into the fire.
The office of Divinations Professor was located on the base of North Tower. It was a round room with walls lined with shelves containing tea cups, crystal balls, deck of cards and other tools for Divination Severus did not recognize. Trelawney's desk was at the other side of the room from the hearth he just stepped out, and just behind it was a window cracking loudly from the storming winds. The room, overall, was only dimly lit, barely enough to make things out. The crystals on shelves glimmered mysteriously.
"Professor Trelawney,"
Sybill Trelawney, the Divinations Professor, was seated upon her desk somewhat listlessly. Severus would have guessed she was dead if it had not been for her chest going up and down very slowly. Her head was inclined a bit, enough to shade her face from the faint light of the room. She made no acknowledgment of Severus.
"Professor Trelawney. I would appreciate it if you learned to be punctual when it comes to meeting with the Headmaster," Severus sneered, his trademark scowl firmly upon his expressions when—
Suddenly, Trelawney's body grew rigid in her chair. Her head, till just seconds ago completely shaded by shadows, shot up, allowing Severus to see that her eyes were unfocused and her mouth was sagging.
Severus felt a sharp feeling of epiphany. His heart was slamming in his chest. Surely it cannot be…
"A new age of darkness begins,
As a follower of death kills
The master he's long served.
Born of black nor white,
Of Pure nor Mud,
Neither a lion nor serpent,
A broken heart of the Light's Savior
Is lured into the den of
The dark's favorite servant
To be bound to him by fate
For no death would do them apart
In the battle of the last
Wins who possesses the Elder
But losses will be mass
For the most loyal faces his end
But no sacrifice is ever vain
For the one who does not subject to fate."
Shit, thought Severus. The follower of death who killed the master he's long served… The dark's favorite servant... A brand new prophecy concerning himself was something he could do well without. Some parts were quite straight-through while some parts he could not make out. 'The one who does not subject to fate'?...
Severus let out a small groan of pain as he wrapped his right hand around his left arm. The Mark was burning. Severus instantly stopped himself from wondering about the sudden prophecy and cleared his mind. It seemed that when it came to eavesdropping or witnessing prophecies, Severus had a lot to do with it. He scowled at his own thought and quickly grabbed a fistful of Floo Powders to present himself at his favorite meeting with the Dark Lord.
A/N : Please review!