Prologue
Albus Dumbledore sighed as he walked down the twisted road towards the Hog's Head. He was supposed to meet a Sybil Trelawney, the great-granddaughter of a very well-known seer Cassandra Trelawney.
He snorted with laughter as he remembered how the last divination professor, Professor MeerKat had predicted her own death at Hogwarts and promptly resigned and left the school. Thus, he was here to appoint a new Divination professor.
But he wasn't quite sure whether to let the absurd subject continue anyway.
Oh well, he thought, as he pushed open the door to the Hog's Head. Might as well give this one more shot. A bell tinkled somewhere deep inside the bar as many heads popped up behind their glasses of fire-whiskey to see who the intruder was.
Dumbledore looked around the room. After doing a whole sweep of the room, he frowned when he couldn't find this…Sybil. Making up his mind, he walked towards the bar and slid into a musty seat right in from of the bartender. He waited for him to notice him.
The bartender was busy cleaning a filthy serving dish with an even filthier cloth. Spitting onto the cloth, he viciously rubbed it against a stubborn stain on the plate.
Dumbledore cleared his throat lightly.
The bartender glanced up fleetingly before going back to his task at hand; the cloth and the stain on the plate. He grunted and sniffed.
Dumbledore cleared his throat louder. "Excuse me, kind gentleman…"
The bartender didn't even glance up before he answered, "No freebies."
"Oh, of course not," answered Dumbledore, bemusedly. "I merely thought that my dear brother could give me a glass of Butterbeer."
The bartender grunted and started to turn around. Halfway there, he froze. With a look of incredulity on his face, he turned around. Looking at Dumbledore for the first time in twenty years, Alberforth's jaw dropped to the floor.
"You…you…" he spluttered incoherently. "What…..Albus, what are you doing here?"
Dumbledore inclined his head. "I could ask the same to you."
Annoyance flooded Alberforth's face. "Look, I got enough goblin-shit from Dad about leaving the Ministry; I don't need it from you too."
"Maybe we wouldn't be having this conversation if you hadn't run off with that goat," smiled Dumbledore, a twinkle in his eye.
The corners of Alberforth's mouth twitched. "You rascal," he growled, throwing the rag at Dumbledore.
Dumbledore caught it expertly with one hand and vanished it. "Now Alberforth, has a Sybil Trelawney come in yet?"
Alberforth scratched his head. "A Trelawney, you say?" He frowned. "Might of, I don't really remember. You get a lot of funny folk in here."
Dumbledore sighed. Maybe the so-called gifted seer wasn't so gifted after all.
"Oh well," said Dumbledore. "In that case, give me a bottle of fire-whiskey!"
"Now, Professor Dumbledore, you wouldn't really want to drink that, would you?" came a voice behind him.
Dumbledore turned around and peered interestingly. "Why, it's Severus!"
Severus Snape gave a thin-lipped leer and sat on the stool next to Dumbledore. "Hello, Professor. What brings you here on this fine, fine day?"
"Oh nothing much." Dumbledore waved his arms around wildly. "The normal stuff. Finding a teacher for the weirdest subject in school, that's all." He chuckled to himself.
Snape didn't find this amusing. "Funny. Ha ha ha."
Dumbledore slapped Snape on the back. "Oh lighten up, old chap. Carry on like this and you'll end up like Minerva, with your panties in a twist!" He roared with laughter alongside Alberforth, who was laughing almost as hard.
Snape's expression remained sour. "My panties are not in a twist."
"You never know," said Dumbledore wisely.
Snape stood up suddenly. "Well, as much as this conversation illuminates me, I think I'll go back to the school and start grading some fifth-year's essays." His upper lip curled with delight. "Probably award them a fail."
Dumbledore inclined his head. "You do that, Severus."
Tipping his chin up slightly, Snape twirled on the spot and exited the Hog's Head, cowboy style with his cloak billowing behind him.
"What's with him?" asked Alberforth, grabbing another dish-cloth and restarting his process of disintegrating the stain.
"Nothing," said Dumbledore. "He's just not very humorous, that's all."
Alberforth smirked. "Speaking of humorous, I heard a brilliant joke the other day about a hag, a bunyip and a toad……"
Almost two hours later, Dumbledore got up and stretched. He might as well get back to the castle if Sybil Trelawney wasn't going to show up. "Well old-chap, I best be off." He tipped his head and backed away.
As he turned around, he saw out of the corner of his eye a woman who was walking straight towards him. When he was about a yard away from her, he noticed that she was wearing an oddly-patterned shawl and large, over-sized owl glasses.
Smiling, Dumbledore gestured for her to pass first.
The woman blinked at Dumbledore. "Prof…Professor Dumbledore?" she asked, hesitating.
Dumbledore blinked in surprise. He had never seen this woman in his life! "Ehh…yes, I am…Who are you?" he inquired.
The woman smiled nervously. "I'm Sybil Trelawney. I'm here for the divination post at Hogwarts."
She was so blunt that Dumbledore was quite taken aback. "Um…okay…" he stammered. "Shall we go upstairs?" he asked, pointing her the way.
Trelawney tightened her shawl and walked briskly up the stairs, with Dumbledore following behind her. They entered a vacant room and closed the door.
An awkward silence ensued.
"So…Sybil, where else have you worked?" Dumbledore asked, breaking the silence.
Trelawney stared at Dumbledore. "I worked at The Salem's Institute for Witches for three years and I also worked for the ministry at one point."
"The ministry?" asked Dumbledore, surprised. "What did you do there?"
"Nothing much," muttered Trelawney, looking down and massaging her hands. "Oh, in the Department of Mysteries and other such stuff…"
"The Department of Mysteries? Well, that's certainly…impressive…"
Trelawney mumbled something about prophecies.
Dumbledore smirked. He privately thought that though she showed promise, she could use with a fashion sense.
A cough awoke Dumbledore from his reverie.
He looked up expectantly.
"I want this job," Trelawney stated bluntly.
Dumbledore's eyebrows creased. "Why do you want it so?"
Trelawney stared at him for a long time. Then…
"The Dark Lord."
Dumbledore thought he heard incorrectly. "Who?"
"The Dark Lord is gaining power," she whispered, walking towards him. "I can feel it. The power is coursing through my veins." She turned around and touched the curtains draping the room. "I can sense his power is inevitable…"
Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. If this was the way she was prepared to impress him…
He was about to say that although she showed promise, he no longer needed a Divination teacher. The air barely left his lips before she cut him off.
"I'm so-"
"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…" Trelawney rasped, her eyes rolling in her head.
"Wha….what?" spluttered Dumbledore.
"…born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…" She walked around the room in a daze, her harsh voice slicing through the air.
"The Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not…and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives."
Dumbledore stood, stunned, as Trelawney snapped out of it.
"Sorry," she apologised. "I often doze off when I'm-" She stopped suddenly as her eyes went to the door. "Who's that?"
Dumbledore followed her gaze and found Severus Snape loitering at the door, his eyes wide and his mouth open. Dumbledore strided towards him and grabbed him by the scruff of this neck. "How much did you hear?" he asked, almost threateningly.
"No…nothing…" said Snape weakly.
Dumbledore shook him. "How much?" he roared.
Snape cowered. "Nothing…much…"
Dumbledore took a deep breath and released him. "Go back to the castle," he ordered. "Don't tell anyone of this. Understood?"
"Yes, professor…I understand…" Snape said, his eyes straying from Dumbledore's face. He turned in the doorway and headed down the stairs.
When he could no longer hear the footsteps, Dumbledore closed the door behind him and found an open-mouthed Trelawney standing in the middle of the room.
"What was that all about?" she asked, confused.
"Can you remember anything that happened just now?" Dumbledore asked urgently. "Anything?"
She frowned. "I remember talking about wanting this job…and after that, I just blanked out."
Dumbledore sighed and sat down on the wooden-backed chair. His heart was pounding like mad and he wasn't quite sure whether he imagined it all or what.
"But it comes with a price," rasped a voice.
Dumbledore looked up and Trelawney shook her head, the whites of her eyes showing. She bared her teeth and swayed.
"It shall come with a terrible price, for he who shall be our saviour will have a counterpart…" Trelawney reached out a hand towards Dumbledore. After swaying for a few seconds, she fell to the floor in a heap.
"Are you okay?" asked Dumbledore, rushing to her aid.
Slowly, she looked up and said in an icy voice that shook Dumbledore's bones, "And she who is shall be the ultimate sacrifice or the ultimate demise."
Her eyes rolled back in her head as she fainted, right into Dumbledore's arms.
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…
…The Dark Lord will make him as his equal…but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not…
… and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives…
Dumbledore sat in his squishy chintz chair and although his office had a blazing fire, there was an unnatural chill in the room.
Quietly, he got up on the feet and walked over to the stone basin behind his desk. He got out his wand and held it to his temple and a long, thin silvery thread slowly unclung from his head, as he lowered it down to the basin.
The figure of Trelawney rose and rasped…
…But it comes with a price...it shall come with a terrible price…
…for he who shall be our saviour will have a counterpart…
…and she who is shall be the ultimate sacrifice or the ultimate demise...
"Unnaturally," he murmured as the figure dissolved. "But in essence combined?"
The swirling mass gave no answer.
Sighing, Dumbledore turned away and sat down once again in his squashy chair.
Who shall it be? He wondered.
He knew of three couples who were expecting children at the end of July.
Frank and Alice Longbottom…
Lily and James Potter…
Aleisha and Gideon Prewett…
Who shall it be? He wondered.
As he stared into the night sky, an owl hooted somewhere and a long soulful song came floating into the office.
"Oh Fawkes," sighed Dumbledore. He reached out a hand and Fawkes swooped in through the window, landing on Dumbledore's arm.
He stroked Fawkes gently.
"Who shall bear this horror child?"
A/N It's okay if you don't get the story so far. I didn't either when I read back through it after I finished writing it. But don't worry, you'll soon get it because my excellent writing skills will become excellenter ( if that's a word . )
Yeah yeah, no hate mail regarding tWatW please. And also no hate mail appreciated for the Voldemort piece too… thanks.
REVIEW! hint hint
xKy
p.s. If anyone thinks they know what the last part of the prophecy meant, feel free to tell me your thoughts!