Chapter 2
Our story continues, of course, with our Hero. As he sat behind his great oak desk in the Department of Defense, he casually rummaged through piles of paperwork that he'd left over the weekend. Now, being that it was Monday morning, he would have to start filling them out. It was a tedious affair that he had no desire to pursue, however, his duty beckoned, making him pick up his quill.
He sighed heavily. I hate Mondays, he thought to himself. It was true, Monday's never favored him either, but after marrying off his eldest daughter to his beloved Godson over the weekend, Harry thought himself unusually happy on this particular Monday. He idly hummed to himself as he made his way through the thick pile of reports. God there were a lot of them. All the same. He read and re-read the same titles on each report. Notification to Inquire of Convicted Criminals. Each report needed his stamp of approval in convicting each and every alleged criminal taken under the government in which he fought so long in restoring. He sighed to himself.
John FitzGerald taken into custody by Auror #75648, Keven McPhee in response to attempted murder of a Mr. Albert C. Graves, a suspected friend of the convicted…
That was the seventh report sent in by McPhee in the past three weeks. If Harry didn't know any better, he'd say McPhee was picking random blokes off the streets and convicting them. Too much energy, that boy, he thought to himself. He glanced up from his papers, rubbing his eyes. It was quiet without Teddy at the office…
"Lord Potter!" A muffled cry came from the other side of the large oak door. "Lord Potter it's me, Scott Bakker!"
"Come in." The door knob immediately jerked, and in walked a puny looking boy of seventeen. Scott Bakker was the new intern. He had been ecstatic to learn that he would be under the supervision of none other then Harry Potter. He would have been just as happy to bring the great man his morning coffee. "A simple knock would work just the same Scott. No need to yell through walls." Harry said, not looking up from his reports. Scott's naturally pale face grew red.
"Sorry Sir, forgive me."
"Who told you to call me 'Lord Potter'?" He asked, finally looking up into the horribly embarrassed face of the young boy.
"Well…uh, Mike did, Sir." Scott answered, shuffling his feet a little bit.
"Did he? Well, smart boy that Mike. But I'd much prefer you to call me Mr. Potter around here. However," Harry stood and walked around his desk. He leaned closer to Scott and lowered his voice. "Feel free to call me Lord Potter in front of any of my colleges in the other departments." He winked,
and most of the red color in Scotts face vanished. A small, child-like smile came to his lips. Harry returned the smile.
"Mike likes to give me a hard time." Scott admitted. "I can never tell when he is serious."
"Mike still has some lessons to learn. He forgets he was in your shoes only a year ago. Arrogance never lasts long. It eventually gets diminished under scrutiny." Harry walked back to his chair.
"Thank you, Mr. Potter, for not getting upset with me."
"Take is as a warning. I never want to hear of you listening to Mike's nonsense again." Scott smiled and brightened. He straightened his posture and took on a more serious countenance.
"Mr. Potter, I was sent to tell you that there's some fuss down in the vaults. They wish your presence."
"What sort of fuss?"
"They didn't get into any detail, Sir. They just strong wish your presence."
Harry looked toward the clock. Not yet ten. Well, this could prove to be an eventful Monday.
The vaults resided deep within the heart of the Ministry of Magic. It was caved out more then ten years ago. It was a vision really, of a system that calculated and sorted each and every prophecy, then stored it for safekeeping, until they've carried out, or, in some cases, until they've been proven false. For the past few years, Prophesies were being recorded in writing, therefore, the actual vaults stored books and books of records as well as the small glass globes that held the visions.
Hard things to explain, prophesies. Literally. The Ministry had taken in prophets, or men and women who could analyze each prophecy. Warren Jacobs was a prophet. He was also a really good friend of Harry Potter. In fact, Harry was the one who discovered Warren when he was just a shop boy in Diagon Ally. It was him who had summoned Harry to the vaults.
Harry entered the low ceilinged chamber. It was dark, save three candles that sat on the large table that took up more than half of the tiny room. He staggered around the table and sat in a chair opposite to Warren, who sat with his head buried in a book. Small globes encircled the room on high shelves, giving off an eerie glow that added little to the lighting condition.
"You need a lamp down here Warren." Harry said, glancing around the place. "I see you've made it somewhat…homey, since I've been here last."
"It's the candles." Warren replied, smirking at his friend.
"Yeah, sure." Harry replied. "I never much cared for the dark."
"I spent years in dark cellars and stock rooms. I pay it no mind." Warren shut the book in which he was scribbling in. He rose to place it back on the shelf. "I must apologize for calling you down this way. But I would have had to wait a week to get an office appointment with you. I'm afraid that would be too long to wait…"
"You could have just come. You don't need an appointment."
"You're a rather busy man Harry. Every one seems to have to speak with you. You were really busy last week because of the Wedding. Besides, I wasn't sure if I would have the right translation, I wanted to make sure it was right before I talked to you. " Warren was fingering through books now, looking for the right one.
"So this is about a prophecy?" Harry asked.
"Yes," He turned to face his friend, book in hand. "A very serious prophecy, Harry. And I think it's already been put into play."
"What makes you think that?" Harry asked, his voice low.
Warren sat, and began flipping through pages. When he reached the page he was looking for, he flipped the book into Harry's view, allowing him to read the words:
In the restoration that follows destruction, he will return once again, to claim what is his. His minions will roam once more; he will rise to take the world for good. The dead will walk the earth in their flesh, and the One Who Lived shall be our savior once more.
"Warren…" Harry could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
"We are in the restoration Harry…" Warren began softly.
"…No…"
"We are at the peak! We still have time before…"
"Stop!" Harry shouted, his face growing hot.
"before we are fully restored…" Warren continued.
"This isn't valid, there is no dominant evidence that this is the time and place in which this prophecy will…" Warren cut him off.
"That's only part of the full prophecy."
"Then let me see the rest!" Harry stood from his chair.
"I can't let you do that." Warren replied softly.
"Why the hell not!"
"Because the prophecy is about you. Things need to play out, if they don't it could mean disaster Harry, you know that."
"Are there forks? Is it a forked prophecy?"
"I can't tell. I'm not sure. I have to finish translating before I can conclude forks."
"WARREN!" He was getting angry. Ridiculous, he thought to himself. He hated prophecies. They seemed to be taking over his life. But if Warren can conclude forks, then it's possible that the prophecy can be proven false. It could also mean that the prophecy could produce different outcomes. If the prophecy was found to contain too many forks, they were often times disregarded.
"Harry," Warren began calmly. "This isn't the first prophecy I've read that's about you. I've read thousands containing references to you. All of them I disregarded. This one cannot be ignored. It's already been put into play."
"But…restoration…that could reference to any restoration…" He began fumbling for words.
"That's not the first part of the prophecy." Warren flipped back a page in the book, and pointed to the phrase on the last line.
Two powers combined in love set the path towards light. They grant freedom to their people, and under One Rule can they stand and fight.
"Harry," Warren's voice spoke through the haze in which filled Harry's mind. "This prophecy was put into play the moment you and your wife said I Do."
Warrens words made him think back to his Wedding day. He'd thought about it a lot of late. He thought about Ariana. Two powers combined in love. Hers and His. Together they were surely unstoppable. No one could touch their magic. Together, they were virtually invincible.
"Ariana has ancient magic. Passed down from her family. Her magic is different then any other Witch."
Warren's brow furrowed. He looked towards the book, then back up at Harry. He finally sat and began scribbling in the book, in the margins next to the where the prophecy was written. "I didn't know that. I just thought Two powers meant to be some sort of metaphor reinstating your marriage. That must be what is keeping me from understanding the rest…" His voice trailed away.
Harry took a deep breath. Then, as if realizing something, he turned his head to face Warren again. "What does that mean, when is says the dead will walk the earth?"
"Inferi?" Warren suggested. "I'm not positive. Like I said, I haven't finished translating."
"I command the Inferi now. Why would the prophecy say that? It's redundant."
"It could be a reference to Voldemort returning." Warren looked up. "That's what I take that as at least, the reference to he, I suspected it to be Voldemort. Perhaps the dead walking the earth is him."
"It also said something about his 'minions' roaming…"
"Death Eaters."
"Yes." Harry still stood, his sweat going cold. "Warren, what do you want me to do?" Warren looked up from his book. His face was serious, and the color had left his cheeks.
"You are the Commander and Chief of our World Security. You should make sure our World is secure."
"You want me to tell my Aurors to keep an eye out for dead death eaters?"
"The last thing we need to do is draw attention to this prophecy. Harry, you have to understand that I can't tell you what to do. Anything I say, knowingly or unknowingly, could be influenced by my knowledge of the prophecy. You are what keeps us in Order…"
"Order?"
"Order."
"I see." Harry started for the door, but turned again to look at his friend. "I will once again be judging friendships Warren. If we are to be thrust into madness once more, I'll need to know those who are loyal to me. People will come to find that I am no longer who I was when I was seventeen."
"I didn't know you when you were seventeen."
"I was a fool running around with a lot of luck on my side." At this, Warren smiled a little.
"Are you asking me if I am your friend?"
"No. I know you're my friend. But even friends disappoint."
"Ah. So you're making sure that I don't speak this prophecy to none but you."
"You have this strange way of reading my mind. Have I ever told you that?" Harry asked.
"Once or twice, at the most."
"I should get back above ground before a prophecy predicts my tragic death due to cave in and alleged suffocation." Harry stated grimly. Warren simply laughed.
A/N: woo! another chapter! sorry it's been forever. i get these spurts, then i stop for a while. idk what's wrong with me. anyways. the next part is my favorite. it's going to be the background of harry and ariana...and what a story she has! so stay tuned. :-D