Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Percy Jackson! If I did, I'd be rich.
A/N- Sooooooo. Did I surprise you? This is a re-write of my first story, Godly Intervention. It was ok, I guess, but there was room for improvement. And here it is! New and improved Godly Intervention prototype #3773. This story will have longer chapters and infrequent updates, so don't expect any particular schedule. I also promise not to go a month without uploading. I swear by the Styx! And on Merlin's staff!
Please tell me how you like the improved version and what you'd like to see. Don't worry, Luna's still in this.
Italics- Thoughts, emphasis on words, or different language.
The Hog's Head, Hogsmeade
ł-::-ł
The pub was crowded today, and there was a considerable line at the front. Several people glared and muttered in annoyance as a black-robed figure pushed through them. He glided up the stairs, silent as a wraith.
Nobody was upstairs, except for a few employees taking a break, and two others. Only one room had a light shining underneath, and the man stood next to the cracked door, trying to look casual. Inside, two people were talking. Or rather, someone was listening while the other talked on.
Dumbledore was not impressed. Sybill Trawleny may have been the decendent of Cassandra, the great Greek prophet, but from what he could see, she was no more a Seer than he was.
It was a shame, really, even though he'd planned on discontinuing Divinition anyways. "Excuse me." He said, interrupting her mid-sentence, "But I think we're done here."
"No! Please!" She gasped, her bug-like eyes seeming to grow bigger. Albus smiled sadly at her. "I'm truly sorry, but I'm afraid you aren't quite fit for the position." He got up and started towards the door.
"I can prove it to you! Here, just let me-Ahhhhh."
She suddenly moaned and Dumbledore turned around, startled at the sight of her slumping back into her seat.
Her eyes rolled back in her head wildly and she let out another moan before suddenly tensing.
"Sybill..." Dumbledore hesitated, reaching out to her. He froze when her eyes focused on him, despite the fact that they were clouded over.
It's as though she's possessed. He thought, and began to take his wand out of his pocket. Then her mouth opened and she spoke with a voice that reminded the old wizard of claws grating on stone, except, somehow, deeper.
"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..."
Sybill paused, and her cloudy blue eyes gave way to a pale green, glowing with energy. She continued, in a voice that seemed as one of a snake's, and tripled to create an eerie effect. The language, however, was not one he recognized.
"Half-blood chosen by the Dark Lord's hand
Breaking the curse that covered the land
Cursed and belittled by his own blood
He will find family where their relation is none
Joined by the half-blood once-again, child of goddess three
And the one who sees what cannot be seen
They will mix light and dark to bring forth grey."
Sybill seemed to snap out of the trance. "Oh dear." She said in her normal, dreamy voice. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize I was so tired." She blinked nervously at Dumbledore.
Albus was still processing what he'd just seen and heard. She made a prophecy. He realized. A real prophecy. His mind worked furiously, making his emotions cycle through elation, hope, then realization and horror. The Potters and Longbottoms—they both fit the criteria. From what I know, Lily and Alice are both expecting to give birth in July.
Sybil's words echoed in his head. "...born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies..." Dumbledore was suddenly aware that Trawleny was still looking at him, and he made a split-second decision. "You have the job." He said.
"Oh! Thank you!" Sybill exclaimed, before calming down and saying, "I knew that I would get the job, but I reacted accordingly, as not to startle you..."
But Dumbledore wasn't listening to a word she said. He ignored her as she babbled on, oblivious to his inattention. But that last part... He didn't have a clue what it could mean. It's all greek to me, he sighed, unknowing of how ironically correct he was.
§-:΅:-§
Severus Snape quivered in a mixture of anticipation and fear. A prophecy! I must tell the Dark Lord! He hesitated, suddenly fearful. He hadn't understood the last part, so what would his Lord say? What would he do to him? Then Snape mentally shrugged. It would be worse, much worse, if his Lord found out that there was a prophecy—and that Severus had not told him.
Yes...it was better to tell him.
"Crucio!" Hissed Tom Riddle. Severus writhed on the ground in agony, a scream pulling itself out of his throat and grating against the ears of those present. Several newcomers had looks of pity or sympathy that were quickly rearranged into an impassive mask at the subtle kick of the senior members.
"Now...what is so important that you had to interrupt me, Severus?" Voldemort asked. His dark blue, almost black eyes were cold and merciless. "I..." Panted Snape. "I overheard...a prophecy that...involves you...my Lord."
Tom's eyes glittered with interest, and he leaned forward. "Go on." He goaded.
"The Seer, she said..." Snape paused to remember the exact words and hurriedly repeated them before he was crucio'ed again.
"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..."
Silence reigned as the Death Eaters and their leader absorbed the information. Gulping, Snape added, "My Lord...there was more, but it was in a different language that I could not—AUUUGGGGH!" He was cut off by one of his own screams. Voldemort held the curse for a few seconds longer before releasing his follower from the searing pain.
He sneered. "I suppose that will have to do. Now...who has defied me three times...Ah, yes." His eyes narrowed. "Potter and the Longbottoms."
Œ-æ-Œ
"I apologize for having you come here on such a short notice." Dumbledore addressed the group in front of him, "But this is a very urgent matter." James looked sidelong at the other couple before putting a protective arm around Lily. "Why is there only the four of us?" Frank asked the question on everybody's mind.
Dumbledore sighed softly. "There has been a prophecy. And I believe it concerns you."
"A-a prophecy? What...what is it about?" Lily asked.
"The prophecy 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 knows not..." Albus decided to leave the last part out, so that the already anxious young men and women wouldn't worry anymore than they would have to.
Lily glanced at Alice. "Oh...I see." Alice replied. Frank put an arm around her. "It could be either one of us." James said, worried. "And we have no idea who He might go for."
"Which is why I suggest all of you go into hiding." Dumbledore spoke gravely. "I have a house set up in Godric's Hollow, but someone will need to stay at your home."
"We'll do it." Frank said. "I can't risk my mother, and Merlin knows how stubborn she is. She'd never agree to moving."
"Then, we'll go to Godric's Hollow." Lily replied, her eyes shining in a mixture of fear, worry, and defiance.
"I plan to use the Fidelius Charm—you know what that is, I assume?" The couples nodded. "If you wish, I could be your Secret Keeper."
Frank and Alice agreed, but James had a silent conversation with his wife before politely refusing the offer.
"No offense to you, of course. But we would prefer our friends to be the Secret Keeper." He replied.
"I understand." Dumbledore glanced at the Longbottoms. "Remember—do not divulge this information to anyone except those you know you can trust."
–ΠΘΠ–
Meanwhile, at CHB...
Many half-bloods were startled and surprised when the Oracle appeared during dinner. The sight of the wrinkled corpse made many of them lose their appetite.
Green mist seemed to erupt from the ground around her and spread out, billowing up as the breeze caught it. She sat up, her eyes glowing an eerie green.
She spoke in the creepy triple voice that sent shivers down the spines of those watching.
"Half-blood chosen by the Dark Lord's hand
Breaking the curse that covered the land
Cursed and belittled by his own blood
He will find family where their relation is none
Joined by the half-blood once-again, child of goddess three
And the one who sees what cannot be seen
They will mix light and dark to bring forth grey."
The mist faded away and the Oracle flopped to the ground like a lifeless–you get my point. There was a silence in the pavilion as everyone processed what had just been said.
"Luke, why don't you take Annabeth and go take the Oracle back to the attic?" Chiron spoke, breaking the silence. Without speaking, the son of Hermes took Annabeth's hand and led her to where the Oracle lay.
§δφδφδφδ§
Chiron thought over the prophecy again. "I've heard some cryptic things, but this just doesn't makes sense!" He said aloud. Mr. D ignored his outburst and continued to read a magazine.
"Half-blood chosen by the Dark Lord's hand." Chiron quoted. "Joined by the half-blood once again." He sighed and shook his head, as he started writing down the prophecy. "The only Dark Lord here is Hades, and 'once again?'" There was a rumble of thunder that he ignored.
"Isn't there some fellow over in Britan causing Hades a lot of paperwork?" Dionysus spoke up unexpectedly. "He calls himself the Dark Lord." He flipped a page. "He's also one of those wizard folk, the annoying mortals that constantly get in our way."
Chiron looked at him with a look of dawning realization. "Of course. How did that slip my mind?" The mention of wizards reminded him of something else. "And that school, there's bound to be some demigod wizards there. That's what the Oracle meant by a half-blood, 'once-again'"
Chiron finished writing and straightened up. He had a Headmistress to contact.
A/N-HA! Bet you thought I made a typo, huh? Well, as to why there's a Headmistress...I'll explain next chapter.