A/N: Ok, here's Chapter 3. Anyway, I looked everywhere, but I couldn't figure out (in canon) who the head of Ravenclaw is so, for this, please assume it's Professor Flitwick. Also, I had originally planned to write this in 3rd person from Harry's POV, but this chapter forced me to write it, so, just to let you know, this story is now 3rd person omniscient. Um, let's see, I want to thank everyone who reviewed the first two chapters and say a few words to each:
w&m_law: She appears to be over him, but don't count our poor, misguided, only just realized what he could have had Harry out of the running just yet ;). Thanks for your wonderful comments.
college girl: I love your H/G stories, and I'm honored that you reviewed me. Thanks.
Ginny Potter: Thanks for your kind words and keep your eyes out for the rest of this (hopefully not too saga-like) saga.
Hermione L. Granger: I really like your stories, particularly Shattered Glass. Thanks for your lovely comments.
ronluver: Thanks for the comments. I really like your stories, and I'm glad you reviewed me. Stay tuned for more.
Disclaimer: (See Chapter 1)
Anyway, without further ado, here is chapter three.
Chapter Three
A Plan is Needed
The lone occupant of the room looked over the piece of parchment in her hand yet again, seemingly determined to glean some new information from the words written there. But those words had not changed in the last thousand years, she knew, and all the vital details had been long chronicled by others. Save one extremely important detail--when. And the best answer that anyone had was 'soon'.
Her gaze drifted up to the clock on the wall, noting that the others would be arriving shortly. She was all too aware that something needed to be done, quickly. It all came down to what, exactly. That's what the others would help figure out. A plan was needed.
They arrived, one by one, and took their usual seats. When they were all settled in, she cleared her throat, and began. "Now, everyone knows why we're here . . ."
There were mumbled affirmatives to this, so she continued. "After that . . . display in the Great Hall, its quite obvious that something needs to be done."
Someone snorted. She shot a sharp look at the offender, who elaborated. "Obviously, though I don't know what you expect us to do about it. It's not as if we figure into the prophecy at all."
"Not specifically," she conceded, "but that's immaterial. We're on a strict timeline here-"
"You don't know that," the other persisted. "At least, not for sure," he amended, daring her to contradict him.
Her lips thinned as she shot him a look, then she continued as though he had not spoken. "What we need is a plan to make sure that the events predicted go off without a hitch."
"Perhaps," said another, "we should just tell them of the prophecy."
There was a moment of silence as the four contemplated this. "No," said the last, his voice squeaking slightly, "we cannot tell them directly. There are too many instances of those who try to defy the fates."
The other three had to admit that he had a point. "But," the third spoke up, "we can't leave this to chance. It'll mean You-Know-Who's downfall."
"I still don't see why we have to do anything at all. If it were predicted, then it's obviously going to happen, is it not?" the second asked, clearly not happy with being there.
"I'm sure," the first said, eyeing him coldly, "that if the prophecy were about Draco Malfoy that you wouldn't be so keen to leave everything to chance."
He glared at her, but said nothing.
She watched him for a moment longer before saying, "I thought as much. You know as well as anyone how important the prophecy is. It would behoove you to forget about your personal feelings for the time being."
The two of them held each other's eyes for a long time before the second, much as it pained him, averted his eyes, deferring to the other. She eyed them all grimly, before finally speaking once again. "So, what is to be done?"
The third and fourth shot each other a significant look, then all four sat silently, contemplating the matter. The silence was palpable as each worked out any number of plans in their head. The silence was broken by the last, who spoke to the room at large, as if to himself. "If only either of them needed help in one of their subjects . . . ."
The second looked up at this, and was about to say something when the first beat him to it. "Yes, I know. They're both good students. Neither really needs tutoring, though there's always room for improvement."
Snorting again, the second muttered to himself, "you can say that again."
"Something to add, Severus?" the first, Minerva McGonagall, asked sharply.
Severus Snape looked her in the eyes and answered. "Well, neither are particularly good at Potions. But," he added, seeing that she had begun to open her mouth to speak, "don't expect me to tutor the famous Mr. Potter. I may have agreed to help, but I do so under protest."
McGonagall shut her mouth, eyeing him warily. At that moment, the third, Professor Sprout, spoke up. "Perhaps Severus should just give them both detention. He seems awfully fond of giving them out. Maybe we could use them to our advantage."
Snape had heard the sarcasm under her suggestion and glared at her coldly before replying. "I don't know about your detentions, but mine hardly engender bonding."
"That's enough of that," McGonagall put in, not wanting to totally isolate the Head of Slytherin. "Detention is not a bad idea though," she added, pondering over the suggestion.
There was silence again, until the last, Professor Flitwick, mused, "perhaps if one of us taught a lesson about the prophecy or the prophet, and then assigned it as homework, that would do it."
The other three heads in the room turned to look at him. "Of course," Professor Sprout said quietly. "The most obvious solution."
Snape nodded, not saying a word. McGonagall looked thoughtful. "'Course," Flitwick said, still thinking aloud, "none of us teaches a subject that could incorporate it into a lesson."
"No," McGonagall agreed, "but Binns does." She paused, looking at the other three. "Are we agreed then?"
"Just one more thing," Snape said, looking at McGonagall. "How can we be sure that this will help? It's widely known that none of the students pay attention in Binns' class. I would hardly think Potter and his fan club are any exception."
McGonagall leveled a gaze at him as she answered. "If it's assigned as homework, I'm sure Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley or Ms. Granger will make the connection." Snape said nothing in return, but it was obvious that he was, at the very least, highly doubtful. Pressing on, she asked again, "are we settled, then?"
"Yes," Flitwick and Sprout answered at the same time.
"Yes," Snape said grudgingly.
McGonagall nodded once. "Very well. I shall tell Albus and talk
to Binns then."