Chapter 7
Dear Prophecy: Shove it.
(Your sincerely, Perseus Jackson and Harry Potter.)
So far Harry had crashed into a tree, been ambushed, man-handled, thrown into a debate without his consent to await his trial for his freedom, and now his fate depended on the words of an oracle.
This, he concluded, had to be the worst first day on a vacation in wizarding history. Ever.
"You've got to be kidding me," voiced the girl who'd been holding Harry down for a while now, "Rachel said this guy was going to show up? And you didn't tell us?"
"Not now, Clarisse," Chiron sighed, but was ignored by everyone.
Harry was happy to see that most of the kids seemed to be in an uproar; all apparently personally insulted for not knowing what their 'oracle' had said. Even the blonde girl and Perseus were shouting abuse at Chiron, angry and fearful at the same time.
"No," Perseus kept saying angrily, "Clarisse is right! You've got to be kidding, Chiron, because even the Fates couldn't be so cruel to give us another prophecy! You're saying Rachel said this guy was going to fall into our camp, and you 'forgot' to tell us?"
"She didn't," Chiron said, his voice still calm and reasonable, "This prophecy is ancient, but it fits perfectly."
The blonde girl crossed her arms defiantly. "I've read every ancient prophecy there is, Chiron. I have never read one saying that a British guy named Harry Potter would fall into our camp one day. I'm sure I would've remembered something like that!"
Harry practically growled. "Prophecies aren't accurate," he said, ignoring the girl – Clarisse – tucking on his hair as a warning. "At least, the predictions I've been given turned out to be wrong so far! They've predicted me to die at least a hundred times, and look," he waved to his own body, "I'm still very much alive." He added hastily, thinking of his professor Trelawney.
"Maybe your Oracle is defect," The blonde girl suggested with a sneer, and Perseus chuckled. "Ours, however, has never been wrong so far. And if Chiron is right, and your arrival has been predicted…"
"Chiron is right," a voice suddenly called, and all heads snapped in the direction of the source.
The girl who had spoken was gorgeous; the kind of girl Harry would've befriended if it wasn't in these circumstances. She had tucked a brush behind her right ear, her flaming red curls were standing in every direction and she was wearing – in contradiction to everyone's orange shirt – a pink sweater with the lines 'This Is What A Feminist Looks Like'. She looked like a normal teenage girl, ready to start protesting to save the environment, but as apparently everyone looked at her for guidance and more information, Harry got the feeling that she, too, was more than she appeared to be.
"There is a prophecy about him," she nodded to Harry, her face contracted in pity. "I'm sorry, Perce, I know how much you hate prophecies, but this is too important to ignore. Chiron was right – we can't let him go."
Are you kidding me?
"Then tell us the prophecy," the blonde girl snapped, her grey eyes blazing in the firelight. She seemed just as nervous as Harry was – though that seemed to be ridiculous. It was just a prophecy, and those weren't true, just a stupid superstition… right?
Because the more Harry observed every reaction, every expression of every kid watching the red-headed girl in anticipation, the more he grew convinced that all of them believed in prophecies, and were scared of them at the same time, too.
The red-headed girl quirked a brow. "You're quite dense for a wisdom's daughter. You do know that my power doesn't work on command?"
"Well – if someone who's in that prophecy just asks you the question, maybe it sets turns it on or –"
She snorted. "You're ridiculous."
"You're insufferable."
"Girls!" Percy intervened quickly, and rolled his eyes when the red-headed girl beamed at him in innocence. "Your bickering isn't helpful right now –"
Even the blonde girl was smiling now, something Harry had never seen her do. Suddenly she didn't look so scary anymore, as if she turned from an analytic monster into a normal giggling teenage girl. "Bickering is such a big word, Seaweed Brain," she said, playfully nudging Perseus, "you know me and Rachel go way back."
Perseus just rolled his eyes again, clearly used to this argument.
Harry kept staring at the three kids as if they had just started barking at him. The fact that they were living with a centaur whilst not being wizards and witches was weird, sure, but how they had suddenly switched to being hostile and threatening towards each other and Harry into this friendly and flirting conversation was beyond him.
Rachel winked at Perseus, but even Harry – as oblivious as he sometimes felt – could see it was meant as a joke. "She's right, Kelp Head. We're just playing."
Harry was growing tired of it all. He was tired of being pushed around, tired of being talked about as if he weren't there, and tired above all from the confusion. "If you're going to decide my fate," he bellowed, happy to see that every head turned to him, "Could you just get on with it?"
The red-headed girl – Rachel – quirked a brow, positively amused. "My, my, he's a cocky one. Reminds me a bit of you, Perce."
Perseus grumbled something under his breath. "The guy has a point. If he's in a prophecy, spit it out now. Otherwise you can all just shove it and I'll lead this guy out of our camp myself and be done with probably a lot of trouble."
Harry couldn't help but agree.
It was quiet for a while, and nothing could be heard except for the silent blistering of the fire. Not even Chiron seemed to be breathing – though he had confessed earlier that he had already heard the prophecy – and all eyes were focused on their apparent – and very young – red-headed oracle. She had her eyes closed and she was breathing in slowly, trying to concentrate on something.
Then she suddenly collapsed, as if something – or someone invisible? – had just punched her in the gut.
Even though she was one of the people holding him hostage, Harry couldn't help but feel a bit bad when she saw her face contracting in pain. Why wasn't anyone coming closer to her, why weren't her friends comforting her? Was this normal?
Just when he opened his mouth to ask for someone to help her, a green whisk of smoke surrounded the girl and an ancient voice boomed without warning and mercy:
The boy blessed with lightning and his friends of gold
Shall travel with the sea god's son and company of old
To stop the dark snake's rise to power once more
Facing pain and deadly losses to stop a war
Unifying their wands and swords against all odds
To save the world before the solstice of the gods
Then she collapsed for real; and this time her friends quickly caught her before she fell onto the ground in a sudden wave of weakness.
Harry just stared at her, dumbfounded.
"The boy blessed with lightning" – that must be him, right? Not that he saw his lightning scar as a blessing, not at all, but it was a symbol of what saved his life when he was a baby, which could be considered a blessing? He didn't know any friends of 'gold' – but maybe that had something to do with his Gryffindor friends, the friends of the Hogwarts House known for its red and gold colors?
The second line, 'with the sea god's son and company of old' didn't make any sense at all. The gods didn't exist, and Harry had no idea who it was supposed to be. Maybe it was a sort of vague description, like someone had a special title or something? Like you could maybe win the title of 'the Sea God's Son' as much as you could win the Order of Merlin?
Harry shook his head. Pondering about that second line wasn't much use. It just didn't make any sense – and maybe it wasn't meant for him in the first place.
The third line, however…
'To stop the dark snake's rise to power once more'
He wasn't all too happy that he understood that line most of all. The dark snake – that could only mean one person, and that was exactly the person that got Harry to want to leave England in the first place. Being confronted with yet another try to rise to power by Voldemort wasn't exactly the cherry top to this whole evening. Though, Harry mused confusedly, hadn't Voldemort already risen to power? He had a body now, hadn't he? How could he rise twice, in just three months' time? It didn't make sense.
Trying to ignore the fear tucking in his gut, Harry thought about the other confusing lines.
"Facing pain and deadly losses". If the hint that this prophecy, this thing – whatever it was - may include Voldemort hadn't been enough to want to run far, far away from here, it was this line.
He'd rather face the murderer of his parents a thousand times than losing someone he loved.
Harry swallowed, trying to ignore the faces of those he had lost swimming in his mind, and focused on the other lines. Getting himself scared over a stupid superstition wasn't going to be a help to anyone involved.
"Unifying their wands and swords" – that should be obvious enough. He and his friends always fought with wands, and these kids obviously did with swords – but unifying with them seemed a bit far-fetched. The kids were a bit too hostile for Harry's taste.
And the last line, to conclude it all, was confusing as hell. Saving the world? – wasn't he supposed to do that already by stopping Voldemort? – and what had the gods to do with this? Again something with a god. Was this some sort of patron for these children, like the title 'son of sea god'?
Harry wasn't the only one racking his mind for possible explanations for this weird prophecy. Percy was wearing the same expression he was: one of total confusion and fear. Something told him that he was probably denying to himself, too, that such a fate for them could be real, and he waited in anticipation for him to curse the red-headed oracle before dragging Harry away from their camp.
The blonde girl was the first to speak, and her voice sounded wary and weak. "Okay. This was definitely a prophecy – and Percy… I'm so sorry but it's obviously about you –"
Percy's brooding look didn't change, but he did smirk a bit. "I kind of expected it already, so don't worry about me, Wise Girl. A little prophecy won't kill me."
She looked like she wanted to argue, but she relented. For now. "But still, that kid," she pointed at Harry, "isn't mentioned. How are you so sure he's the one in the prophecy as well?"
Clarisse suddenly pulled Harry upright without a warning.
"Hey!" he protested, but he was ignored.
"He's the one," she grunted, clearly not happy about it.
"How are you so sure?" The blonde girl asked, nudging her eyebrows together.
Clarisse grabbed Harry's bangs, and pulled them upward without further ado. Harry had no idea how she had noticed his scar, and why she hadn't said anything before, but it was obvious what she intended to do. And he was helpless – for the hundredth time that night – to do anything about it. "Because he's been blessed by lightning, Chase. That's why."
Every single eye slowly turned to Harry's forehead, all gazing with open mouths and a daunting pang of fear when they saw his scar.
Perseus cursed loudly under his breath. "You've got to be kidding me."
The blonde girl turned to him, and unreadable expression on her face. It was clear that she wanted to curse and shout and maybe kick someone as well, but she held herself upright and strong. "I'm afraid, Percy," she said seriously, as if it was hurting her to admit it, "we've got a new quest."
X
Wow, this chapter took a long time to write.
(I hate writing prophecies, and writing this one took hours ! I hope it sounds okay.)
Anyway, let me know what you think: review!
Love
