DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter. It belongs to JK Rowling.
HARRY POTTER AND THE POWER DARK LORD KNOWS NOT
It was a cold and wet night in the Scottish high hills. The aged man was tired as he walked down the alley. He was a tall and thin man, with silver hair and a beard so long that they can be tucked into his belt. He was dressed in purple robes and half-moon spectacles. Power radiated off him as he walked. He could hear people whispering as he walked past them. Heads followed him as he entered a pub.
The pub was dimly light. It comprised one small, dingy, and dirty room that smelled strongly of something that might have been goats. Above the fireplace was a portrait of a young and beautiful girl. To this day, he could not look at it without shedding a tear. Standing behind the bar was a tall, thin, and grumpy looking man with a great deal of long grey hair.
Aberforth owned the Hog's Head pub for many years that he lost count. He was having a bad day. Some wannabe death eaters were there earlier, and they almost started a fight. Finally, he had enough and threw them out. He could already see them coming more in numbers. His face developed a scowl as soon as he saw the aged man walk in. His day was getting worse.
" What do you want, Albus? " he asked the aged man.
" Ah, it is good to see you too, brother. " Albus replied. He was happy to see his brother, and after a few decades, he was used to the hostility.
Aberforth's scowl deepened at the term brother. Yes, his day was getting worse.
What do you want? He asked again.
At last, it seemed his brother was not ready to forgive him anytime soon. If the truth be told, he could not forgive himself yet. He let out a tired sigh, then informed Aberforth that: he was there to interview a candidate for the divination post at Hogwarts. Aberforth just stared at his brother. In a twisted way, he was happy that Albus was not here to see him. They were never the same after her death. Aberforth watched as his brother gave him a sad smile and walked towards an empty room upstairs.
Albus was deep in his thoughts. The war was at its height. Many of his friends and students were murdered in cold blood. He still could not believe that the charismatic young wizard whom he had introduced to the world of magic all those years ago would become one of the most feared dark wizards of all time. His followers were calling themselves death eaters. They murdered and tortured innocent people. The purebloods in the country saw him as a champion for their cause. Dumbledore smiled at the irony that a half-blood was the one leading the pureblood cause. It was quite Slytherin of Tom.
Witches and wizards across the country were pleading with Dumbledore to fight Voldemort. After all, Dumbledore was the only wizard Voldemort ever feared. He had thought to pick up his wand and head off to fight Voldemort on many occasions. Unfortunately, old age had already weakened the body of one of the fiercest warrior wizarding world has ever seen. It was only his presence that kept Voldemort from attacking Hogwarts. If he fell, so will the innocent children of his school.
Albus was interrupted from his musings by a mid-aged lady. She was thin and dressed in a shawl. Her spectacles were too large for her eyes. Sybill was the granddaughter of Cassandra Trelawney, one of the most gifted seers of her time. Albus Hoped Sybill has the same gift as Cassandra. Divination had not been his greatest strength. He thought it was a woolly subject.
The interview lasted for almost half an hour. Dumbledore was disappointed in the performance she gave. He was about to leave when Sybill got rigid and went into a trance-like state. Her eyes lost their focus, and she began to speak in a harsh noise unlike her own. "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... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies...".
Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Grand Sorcerer, The Headmaster of Hogwarts, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, Supreme Mugwump of International Confederation of Wizards was stunned, and that itself was saying something. After decades of fighting, first, against Grindelwald and then against Voldemort, he did not think there was something that could stun him. His brilliant blue eyes regained the long-lost twinkle. He needed to make sure the prophecy was real. He was about to rush to the hall of Prophecies when Aberforth came busting in. Aberforth informed him of catching a 'greasy-haired' man eavesdropping. Albus quickly identified the man. He had to locate Severus fast. He could not afford Voldemort to get his hands on the prophecy. His phoenix Patronus was already on its way to alert the order members to locate Severus.
After a quick pop later, Albus appeared in the ministry building. He walked past the time room into the hall of prophecies. It was a cold chamber as high as a cathedral. The Chamber was full of nothing but towering shelves, covered in small, dusty, glass orbs. The orbs contained a swirling mist with blue flames. He walked past many shelves and found the confirmation he was looking for. A small smile appeared on his face. It seemed not all hope was lost.
What would you like the power to be?
What all changes do you wish to see in the canon Harry?
What pairings would you like?
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