"speaking"
Thought
"other language"
MAGICAL WRITTINGS
For standard Disclaimer, look at the SD chapter.
Chapter One – Prophetic Distortion
"For even the very wise cannot see all ends."
― J.R.R. Tolkien, via Mithrandir, The Fellowship of the Ring
No 12 Grimmauld Place. The Black Manor. The seat of House Black. Now stays untouched, dusty yet proud.
Activities has ceased from this building since the death of the last Black Matriarch some years ago and since the last surviving Black is incarcerated in Azkaban for criminal conduct. Crimes that's based only on prejudice. And with Sirius Black gone, the Black estate remains unclaimed. Yet some people are trying to claim it for their own purposes. Some good, some evil, mostly misguided.
If only they all knew that Sirius is only the last known surviving Black.
As if the manor itself has cried to Fate for its situation, the answer came in the most unexpected way.
A crack was heard in the hall. At first it was simple creaking sound. Then the sound began to repeat. Louder. Harsher.
Following it, a crack of light suddenly formed in the air. At first it began as a dot; then it grows. A centimetre An inch. A feet. And it stop at six feet.
For most wizards, this kind of phenomenon will be unheard of. But for some older ones, those that came from ancient bloodlines, will know what this mean
A tear of reality.
A tear of reality is not to be lightly mistaken. For it usually involves higher power.
And the tear began pulsing. A beat. A rhythm. Slowly. Yet it grows. Faster. Harder.
When suddenly in a bright flash, the tear itself was gone, but in its place stood a person in the middle of the room.
The man wore a hooded overcoat yet also he wears a mask to conceal his identity as if it's the most dangerous secret of the world.
The man turned around. Looking. Remembering. Reminiscing.
The man finally walks and finally found the study room.
The mysterious person turned to the empty room and called out, "Kreacher" the next second the old house elf of the Black Family was there with a pop.
"INTRUDER! Who be you to call Kreacher?" Kreacher wrenched as he looked at me with his small beady eyes, "There be Black blood in you but I know not who you are."
The occupant was silent for a minute, before lifting up his hood and removing his mask, "Don't you remember me…, Richie?" he spoke with a tone of fondness that this elf surely deserves yet lack given.
As if realization suddenly struck him like a bludger, Kreacher's beady eyes seemed to widen, "It… it can be…!" He spoke his voice a little shaken by the summoner's declaration.
It was a cloudy evening at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The sky was a marbled slab of ivory and silver, and light rain misted the grounds. The grass sparkled like an expanse of emeralds with the moisture. Hogwarts itself towered over the countryside, looking cold and foreboding to the unpractised eye.
Inside Dumbledore's office, though, it was cosy and warm, with a blazing fire going in the fireplace and mugs of mulled cider ready and waiting on his desk. Former Headmasters and Headmistresses dozed in their paintings, silver instruments puffed and spun lazily, and Fawkes, the brilliantly coloured phoenix, slumbered quietly on his perch, head tucked under one magnificent wing.
But the silence between the Headmaster and the current Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, was anything but warm and comfortable.
Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes for a moment, still holding a teacup in his hand. As they all aware, Sirius Black, a convicted felon and the supposed cause of the Potter Family Demise is on the loose from Azkaban. Curiously, in his gut Dumbledore knew something was amiss in the Black case. He knows that the Minister himself is aware of the amiss but clearly, Fudge couldn't do anything about Black. The school's term was nearing towards its end yet Black hadn't made any move toward Harry besides the scaring of the Fat Lady portrait. In his gut, Albus knew, that something wrong would happened.
"Let it down, Albus. The hippogriff's escape isn't your fault," Cornelius console Albus regarding Bucbeak's ordeal a few hours back.
"It's not that Cornelius."
"It's Black, isn't it?"
"Yes... the school is nearing towards its end term yet Black hasn't made any move Cornelius."
"Ah yes... The boy who lived. It's a shame to what happens to his family. To think that a close friend can betray each other..."
"But I believe that there's more to Black's escape than what the Auror at that time Cornelius."
"You still think that he's innocent Albus? Yet the proofs are irrevocable."
"Exactly Cornelius. That what's holding my thought. A colleague of mind once said that there are no such thing as a perfect crime. It's...
"a set up?"
"I don't think minister; I know that fact."
"Even if he's been set up, to release one Sirius Black require an undeniable evidence that could slap all the ministry and the public in an instance Albus. And we are lacking that evidence."
"I suppose so Cornelius. In this matter of time, I can only remember what Gerald said before his fall"
"Grindelwald? What did he say?"
"Regarding government, there are only two option: controlled chaos or utter chaos."
"… true… besides you, he has one of the brightest mind in our age. It's a shame that he choose the wrong path."
"Yes. but for some reasons… I feel delighted this evening."
"ow? Do tell…"
"Remember one of those muggle quotes that unanimously became a life lesson? What could go wrong will go wrong"
"you think something will go wrong?"
"yes, but in a very good way"
As if his intuition was already telling him something would go wrong, the door of his office swung open, and a man entered, jet-black robes trailing after him.
"Headmaster, you have to come. This is urgent"
"What is it Severus?"
"It's Trelawney. She's making a scene in the Great Hall."
"Trelawney? Isn't she...?"
"This is Sybil Trelwaney, the great-great-granddaughter of the renowned Cassandra Trelwaney"
"ah... I see. Can I join? I want to see what the ruckus is."
"All right, but I do need to remind you minister, Sybil's talent is not as good as her ancestor's"
When Albus and his entourage had arrived in the Great Hall, there's only one word to describe the situation: chaos.
All the table and the chairs are floating, and in the middle of that chaos, is Sybil Trelawney. Levitating.
Many students were encircling her, and wondering what is happening.
"Does this occur regularly Albus?"
"That... I haven't seen before." With gentle voice he put his wand near his throat and command "okay students, give some space."
As Dumbledore approached the trance Professor, a quake happens. The air suddenly trembled and by that sensation, a hoarse sound likely consist of many speaker's voice followed.
"THE ELDEST ONE HAS RETURNED."
It was Trelawney speaking – but it was a Trelawney he'd never seen before. Even different from the time when she gave the prophecy about Harry. Her hands clutched the arms of her side, her entire body was rock-hard and unbelievably tense, and her wide magnified eyes were unblinkingly staring. And she was still levitating.
"AS SAMHAIN APPROACHES, THE ELDEST ONE WILL RECLAIM HIS THRONE OF THIS WORLD…
ALL THINGS WILL BOW INTO A PAINFUL CURLED
STARS AND PLANES SHOOK UPON HIS ASCEND
BUT HOPE WON'T BE PENNED
BLESSED BY THE FORCE, A DRAGON SHALL RETURN
TO A LEGACY THAT HE HAS LEFT WITH A SPURN
FEAR HIM NOT FOR HIS WEALTH IS NOTHING BUT HIS NAME
BUT FEAR HIM DO FOR THE TRUTH IN HIS CLAIM
A SECRET HEIR, THE LONG LOST SCION FROM A FAMILY OF OLD
FORGED BY THE DOVAH, IN HIM BOTH LIGHT AND DARK ARE MOLD
THE DRAGON MUST UNITE WITH THE STAG IN THEIR FIGHT
TO FINALLY END A NEVERENDING PLIGHT
ALL MUST BE DONE OR ALL WILL LED TO NAUGHT
BUT NEVER FEAR, FOR HE HAS THE POWER THE DARK LORD KNOWS NOT…"
And with that, the Divination Professor suddenly drop with a thud into the hall. With all the levitating furniture. And then the hall erupt into chaos.
"ALL STUDENTS PLEASE RETURN TO YOUR DORMITORY AT ONCE. PREFECTS PLEASE ESCORT EACH OF YOUR HOUSE COMRADES TO THEIR RESPECTIVE DORM. ALL TEACHER PLEASE CONVERGE IN THE GREAT HALL IMMEDIATELY"
"What do you think Albus?" questioned a concerned deputy headmistress while cheking the fainted seer.
Contemplating to the events that has happened, he can only said,"It's a grim news Minerva. Severus where's young Harry?"
"Mr Potter was last seen outside the castle with Mrs. Granger and Mr. Weasley," noted by the least favoured potion professor of Hogwarts
"Please fetch them immediately Severus. This is a dire importance" ordered by the headmaster which was dutifully obeyed the potion master while helping the staff to take the unconscious divination professor to the medical wing.
"Albus, you couldn't just believe a rambling like that right?" Cornelius asked in an eager manner
"In this case, a prophecy with that kind of nature can't be neglected Cornelius," the headmaster grimly said.
"But you said that her talent are questionable!"
"Be as it may Cornelius, she is still the distant descendant of Cassandra Trelawney the Great Seer. You know that that family is very accurate in every prophecy, whether it is big or small."
With nothing to counter back, Fudge can only reply, "I suppose you have a point, but still, family of old? The wizarding world has many family of old Albus. And the remark regarding the Eldest One? Have you heard something like that?"
"No. Not for an age…, not since a darker power ruled these lands," the headmaster took a contemplating look to the forbidden forest.
"But it was a long time ago. It predates You-know-who... even Gridenwald! Do you think...?" exclaimed the horrified minister of magic
That a greater evil will return? Yes, I even dare to believe that it has Cornelius. But the question is, how strong is it now? Was the only thought that Albus Dumbledore had in mind.
Unfortunately this conversation was interrupted by a message that both individual least want to happen.
"Headmaster, it's Severus. They are all in trouble."
Any thoughts? R&R please. Flames will be doused by hydroblast. LOL.