Chapter 1: The Revelation
The moon, silent and tranquil glowed in a mystical light against the dark, warm summer sky. Shadows danced on the calm, watery surface of the lake, reflecting a play of lights on the walls of the ancient castle. The tree tops gently swayed in a cool fleeting breeze, leaving a silent rattle of branches in its wake. Even the Forbidden Forest in its unmanageable wilderness was relatively quiet tonight.
As Dumbledore looked down upon the calmness, from his office window, he inwardly shivered. Nature was calm in it's tangibility, but not peaceful in it's ambiance. There was a tensed serenity invoked by great magical upheaval, like the forced tranquility of the eye of a storm.
No one had witnessed the immense disturbance in the magical equilibrium or it's unequal distribution, concentrating on two specific units. But they were bound to feel the atmospherical turmoil...it had begun
The beginning of a legend.
The beginning of the sacrifice.
The beginning of the end...
In some morbid fascination, the Fates would be very amused tonight...
*
The door opened and four people entered Dumbledore's office, and pulled him out of his thoughts. He looked up, and his eyes locked on a pair of green eyes. These were illuminated with an ethereal light as usual, but now there was something more...and something less. The naivety and childlike wonder was not there anymore. Dumbledore searched his eyes for it. But it was gone. Instead there was a hard maturity that can only be gained with lost innocence.
He shifted his gaze to Draco. What he saw did not surprise him...much. He knew that Draco never had any naïve innocence; his childhood had been robbed from him by his parents, and now by the people of the magical world. His childhood had been ripped away from him even earlier than it had been from Harry...but he did not expect the cold maturity to be reflected in these gray eyes, which at the moment held a hard, irritated look.
Harry and Draco had both seen too much and had had to stand too much already. Everyone had limits...a line not meant to be crossed. Dumbledore just prayed that the line was not crossed tonight. If they were unable to stand it, it would be his undoing...and that of the world.
Sighing he began...
"How are you both? I know you must be very curious about why you have been brought here, and I will come to that presently. First tell me how you are feeling...do you feel...uh...different somehow?
Harry started. What did Dumbledore mean? What was he trying to imply? Did he know what Harry was going through the whole of the last four hours....though it seemed like ages? Did he know that Harry's scar was nearly bursting just four hours ago? But how? Was Dumbledore expecting this? A million questions flashed through his mind. He had to tell Dumbledore. But...
"No, not at all," lied Harry. He had to. No way was he going to admit his weakness in front of Draco Malfoy. He ran a hand through his hair, and shrugged "well, it was nothing...the scar just throbbed slightly and I felt a jolt...it was so small...I hardly felt it...but I do feel different now."
Draco jerked out his haughty scrutiny of Dumbledore's office, his boredom vanishing and curiosity perked in an instant. Had Potter gone through the same thing as he had? Did the rambling old fool know about it? Did...A thousand questions reeled through his mind as he recalled the pain, the magic...and the power. Writhing in agony Draco had felt the call of the magic of the air he inhaled with every painful breath, the water in the goblet on his bedside table, the fire that flickered in his stone fireplace...he had felt the call from the elements...the universe...raw magic...he did not how it was possible but he had also felt the blood in his veins respond- reply to the call and accept what it had to offer.
But he couldn't tell the senile git all this...so he just covered his discomfort with the skill that he specialized in- disdain.
"Yeah yeah," sniggered Draco, "Little baby Potter's scar was hurting...oh!" He clutched his forehead in mockery and laughed. He rolled his eyes "Yeah Potter, you don't have to try and get the headmaster's pity by complaining about your stupid scar hurting...but yeah...I also felt a jolt...and now I feel different...but why do you care (he scowled)...like I have nothing better to talk about."
Dumbledore smiled, but it was slightly tight-lipped. He knew this would be hard...at least he expected it to be and would be surprised if it was not, and now it seemed that Draco was trying to do everything in his power to make it harder. "Yes, I know that you are both curious, but before I begin I must impress upon you the importance and sensitive nature of what I am about to tell you,"
Draco inclined his head to his left and Harry nodded. Interlacing his fingers on his desk, Dumbledore began to speak, "Sixteen years ago, I was out searching for a divination teacher. I found one living in some rooms above the Hog's Head. On interviewing her, it was quite clear to me, that she was not really a seer...."
Harry frowned and interrupted him, "But I know all this remember? You already told me about her...and why does he have to know?" He jerked his head towards Draco.
"Patience is a virtue, Harry," Dumbledore replied. Draco smirked. "Same goes to you Mr. Malfoy," and the smile on Draco's face was immediately replaced by a scowl.
"So, as I was saying...The minute I spoke to her, I knew that she was not a real seer and so I turned to leave, when suddenly, I heard her speak up, in a harsh voice, totally different from her actual one. I realized then, that she was making a prophecy." Here he stopped and tapped the silver bowl, which rested on this table, and a white figure rose out of it. Harry recognized it to be the pensive, which he had used in the previous term while taking Occlumency lessons from Professor Snape. The white figure repeated the words which were engraved on his mind.
She said "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 a power that the dark lord knows not...and either must to die at the hands 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..."
Draco looked up at Dumbledore, his gray eyes betraying only mild curiosity...he had begun to understand that this was all about Harry...he said "This is about Potter isn't it? You mean that all this...about the Dark Lord...you mean this is all...Fate?" he smirked, "So Potter, you were always meant to die."
Harry's face flushed slightly. But he replied in a calm and steady voice, "Of course I'm meant to die," Harry smirked. "You see, I'm not immortal; though with your over enlarged ego you certainly seem to think so of yourself."
Draco's eyes sharpened, but his face remained impassive. He sneered and drawled, "Better start praying, Potter," With that he stood up and whipped out his wand. In an instant Harry was on his feet, his wand pointing directly at Draco's heart.
Just as Harry and Draco opened their mouths to start a full-fledged duel, Dumbledore stood up and flicked his wand. The two boys were thrown off their feet. They landed with a thud on their chairs. Dumbledore inwardly sighed with relief. He hated to think what would happen if they had dueled with their untrained and uncontrolled powers. He looked up to see two pairs of eyes glaring at each other. He smiled. It was time to be the Headmaster.
"Underage sorcery is prohibited by the law. And may I also impress upon you that dueling on Hogwarts grounds, especially in front of the Headmaster, is most definitely against school rules. Being in this school for the past five years, I expect both of you know this?" Still glaring at each other, Harry and Draco scowled. "Well, no harm done, so I'll just continue with my story..."
* * * * * * * * * * * *
In 358 A.D. Helga Hufflepuff, Godric Gryffindor, Salazar Slytherin and Rowena Ravenclaw- the four greatest sorcerers in wizarding history were brought together by a common goal, a shared dream of training young witches and wizards. On this vision, Hogwarts was founded and the Fate of the world was sealed.
Helga was a seer, and one fateful night she had a vision. In this vision, she saw a time far in the future. A time when an heir of Slytherin would rise, bringing chaos and anarchy into the magical world. Then two heroes will come forward to fight him- the heir of Gryffindor and the second heir of Slytheirn.
Helga made a prophecy after her vision. She said "In the solstice will come a new power...born from the bone of the father, unknowingly provided, flesh of the servant, willingly given, and blood from the foe forcibly taken...the son, the master and the enemy will rise...Suppressed evil and dormant power shall awaken...covering the land in a shadow of darkness...when the will of people shall break, when all hope shall fail, two heroes will emerge...bound by blood and allied by fate they alone will stand against the enemy...they alone will be a match against him....one from the darkness and one from light, they will be the ultimate warriors.....and none will come after..."
After the others learned of Helga's vision and prophecy, they all made a plan to help the two heroes. Rowena called upon the magic of the earth, the stars and the moon; she summoned the raw power of the universe and invoked ancient blood magic to cast a spell of her invention- the Dracenus Parcentium charm on Godric and Salazar. The effect of the charm takes place on the descendants of the person on whom the spell is cast. This charm allows the person to use raw magic. The charm would lie dormant until and unless the right heirs were born, in which case, it would then take effect. Thus the two descendants of Godric and Salazar would experience the effects.
During this time, Salazar already had a daughter, whose bloodline later led to the birth of a boy with a muggle father, and a witch mother, Tom Marvolo Riddle. Brilliant in everything he did, and Head Boy in school, Tom studied dark arts after graduating, and later emerged as the Dark Lord, Lord Voldemort.
After the charm was performed, Slytherin had another child. This child's bloodline led, after many inter-marriages between pureblood families, to a pale skinned, flaxen haired boy. This boy was another brilliant student, like Tom, and with a special flair for potions.
Gryffindor's line led to the birth of yet another boy. This boy, though with a noble and ancient magical heritage, was a half-blood through his muggle-born mother. Like the Slytherin heirs he had exceptional magical prowess and unyielding character; and like the second heir of Slytherin, due to many intermarriages between purebloods, also had Slytherin blood in his along with Gryffindor's
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Dumbledore stopped and looked at the tired and confused faces in front of him. Even with the obviousness of the situation, Harry and Draco did not seem to have understood the implications of his story. Dumbledore could pretend to be disappointed. He could lie and make himself believe that he wanted them to recognize the hints so that he did not have to be the one to hit them with the truth. But he wouldn't do that...couldn't do it...because he knew the truth. He knew that he wanted to postpone the realization as long as he could. He would even cancel it, were it in his power to do so. But alas, it was not.
The power lay with the Fates and the Fates had decided.
The blissful time of postponement had ended. The powers had been unleashed, and the revelation had to be made now...but maybe he could delay it a bit longer...one more night. They were tired now and if he carried on with this, they would not understand anything anyways.
Dumbledore knew he was making excuses, but he didn't care. He would do it tomorrow. He flicked his wand and food appeared on his table. "Harry, Draco, you can finish your dinner here and go to sleep in the Gryffindor dormitory. I shall continue the story tomorrow."
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
After Harry and Draco had left, Dumbledore turned to Snape and Remus. He said, "Remus, I think it would be better if you went back to the house. Wait for her to come, and then look after her till the time comes for her to come to school. She will arrive tomorrow at around 6:00 in the morning. I will await your owl." Remus nodded and left the room.
"Severus," Dumbledore continued, "I think it is best if we start the training early tomorrow. Please send owls to Minerva, Flitwick, Poppy, Alastor, and Amelia. Remus will join us presently, and you are already here. Tomorrow morning I will tell them the rest of the story, and see how much they are able to grasp, and from their reactions we shall be able to tell how much help they will require. That is all for now Severus, I thank you for your help thus far and beyond." Snape turned to leave. "Oh and just one more thing...You will please do whatever you can to help Draco...at least to help him overcome the shock...because in his shocked state, it will be really hard for us to help him, and that could come to a disastrous end," Dumbledore added.
"I will do my best Headmaster...you know I will...I have already expressed my feelings on this matter." Severus left the room.
Dumbledore looked out of the window into the darkness outside...he thought of what had happened before, and what lay ahead. He felt a slight pang of guilt...almost as if it was his fault that he did not stop Tom before...he had suspected, but he had not acted on his suspicions. It was not his style to do so, and now he felt a slight regret for it...he made up his mind now...he would undo all of this...he would help these two innocent boys achieve victory over this darkness...he would do whatever he could to bring back the lost humanity...
But it was in vain, and he knew that...these people expected others to die for them, and to protect them from the evil that was spreading even as he thought about it. They did not care if it was their lives pitted against those of two young children. They only cared about themselves and themselves alone. They were selfish and greedy. They wanted peace and happiness. At what price they did not care, as long as they did not have to pay it. They rejoiced at the losses of others, they basked in the glory of selfless sacrifices made by their heroes, as that generally meant something had been gained for them. And they romanticized when their heroes were broken and beaten-somehow tragic heroes appealed to them and gave pleasure to their twisted ignorant minds. It was not because they suffered with their heroes who suffer because of them, it was not because they understood or cared. It was simply because it added colour to their life; gave them something to gossip about, and someone to swoon over.
They were pathetic and not worth the lives that had to be sacrificed to save them. But Dumbledore knew that no matter what he wanted, in the end the sacrifice would be made. No power on earth could challenge the supremacy of the Fates. No logic could outwit their mindless, senseless decisions, designed for ironic humour.
The lives of thousands of fools and cowards against the lives of two innocent boys.
Fate had chosen the masses.
The people had chosen themselves.
And the boys would choose the people.
Destiny had been engraved in stone, and even the great Albus Dumbledore could do nothing to change it.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Draco sneered as he saw the red-gold Gryffindor dormitory.
Red and Gold- the colours of nobility and splendor. His sneer became more prominent. Tired and irritated from the pointless time he had spent in Dumbledore's office, Draco was in no mood to be in a room of bright happy colours, housed by fools.
No wonder his father had hated Dumbledore. The fool had pulled him out of mourning to tell him some stupid prophecy about Potter and an even stupider fairy-tale about the founders. He had given him a history lesson for no good reason...in fact, for no reason at all.
How could such a powerful, ancient family like the Dumbledores lead to such a muggle-loving idiot??!! He had half the mind to tell the Dark Lord about the prophecy. After all, he was dying to know it's contents. But he hesitated. Dumbledore's outright senile stupidity was just another proof that his father was wrong. Blood didn't always bear greatness.
He stalked over to one of the beds and plopped down on it. He looked up and as he saw Potter pull of his shoes, something struck him and he decided to charge Potter with it...
"I know you felt the power too," he said simply, but with force. "The old coot isn't telling us something."
Harry's head snapped up, and his eye's hardened, but as Harry knew, not in Dumbledore's defense but in resentment towards Malfoy. "Yeah well it's probably because of you.... I mean how can you except anyone to trust a git like you?"
"Watch yourself Potter...remember, you are meant to die...so I think I'm probably the one who is going to kill you....and your muggle-loving fool of a Headmaster won't be able to stop me when I do....take good care of yourself little baby!" Draco smirked, and vanished behind the curtains of Neville's bed. As Draco pulled up the bed sheet and closed his eyes, he thought he heard Harry mutter, "Kill me and do me a favour Malfoy."
* * * * * * * * * * * *
The tall oak doors creaked open and Harry walked into the Great Hall. His eyes swept over the head table, taking in the new faces seated there- Hagrid, McGonagall, Madam Pomfrey, and Flitwick. He walked up to them and sat down on the only vacant seat- beside Malfoy. Draco scowled but said nothing. The others just smiled sadly and continued with their breakfast.
Only Dumbledore spoke, "Good morning Harry...I was just telling Mr. Malfoy that since you were both tired yesterday, I did not finish my story, but today after breakfast, I would like you to rejoin me in my office, where I will continue. For the time being...tuck in!"
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Harry was looking at him with a guarded expression- a strained blank façade. He was cautious, taking care to not show what he was thinking. Dumbledore was sure he suspected, and was mildly surprised that he had not said anything.
Draco on the other hand looked uncomfortable, although he seemed to be making a conscious effort to hide it. He was distracted, that much was evident. "That can be fixed. Just wait until I finish telling you my little story..." thought Dumbledore with a sort of detached morbidity.
"Long ago, even before mortal men and women learned about magic, there was a special breed of people called Omega. The Omega were the first to know of and use magic. They did not indulge in the normal sorcery that we normal wizards practice. Their magic was stronger and more powerful...but they were untrained. They did not know what their powers were- their nature, theoretical analysis, or significance. Bu they did know how to use them and what their consequences were.
"Everything in the universe has raw magic in the-the stars, the moon, the earth and the elements. A small amount of this magic resides in witches and wizards. However, the amount in them is so minute that they need a conduit to channel the magic. This is of course their wands. The Omega, on the other hand, possess a greater proportion of raw magic. They can channel magic directly from the universe, especially from the elements...
"Sometime during the course of time Omega blood had mixed with the Gryffindor and Slytherin line through marriage. Do you know what this means?" Draco slightly inclined his head and Harry just stared, his expression still blank. Dumbledore felt a pang. Harry had understood. Mentally shaking himself, he continued, "This means that the heir of Gryffindor and the second heir of Slytherin shall have both the power of the Dracenas Parcentium charm and the ancient magic of the Omega...In my opinion, no mortal man should have wield such power. But the Fates have chosen it's two new victims, and have conveyed the identity of the second through yet another prophecy..."
He went to the cupboard in the corner, and took out the pensive. He placed it on his table, and then stirred it with his wand. The same white figure rose out of the swirling white liquid-like substance. Dumbledore told them to be quiet and to listen to what she had to say.
She opened her mouth and spoke once more, but this time, she said something different. She said "
"The one with the power to vanquish the dark lord will be born as the seventh month dies...by his side will stand HIS BLOOD BROTHER AND CLOSEST ALLY... he will be born during the first full moon of the fourth month...BORN TO SERVITUDE TO DARKNESS, HE SHALL STAND BY THE SAVIOUR OF THE LIGHT...RAISED TO PURSUE HIS FATHER'S PATH, HE SHALL DEFY HIS CUSTOM...AND FIND HIS TRUE HERITAGE... he will fulfill the secret power which will destroy the evil..."
WHEN IT SEEMED AS IF DUMBLEDORE WOULD SAY NO MORE, DRACO SPOKE UP, "THAT WAS A FASCINATING STORY HEADMASTER, BUT WITH ALL DUE RESPECT, WHY ARE YOU TELLING US THIS?" WHY ARE YOU TELLING ME THIS? THOUGHT DRACO. AREN'T BED TIME STORIES FOR POTTER?
Dumbledore visibly sighed. The time had come for the revelation of Fate. "Harry, Draco, you two are the heirs..."
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Harry, Draco, you two are the heirs..."
Draco's temper suddenly flared. The crazy old man had just wasted two days of his precious life for some ridiculous and absolutely lame joke. What was wrong with the git? Didn't he have something better to do? Like plan a resistance against the Dark Lord, or dote on Potter?
Draco suddenly realized that he was clenching his teeth and was griping the chair in a death grip. He immediately relaxed his muscles and tried to calm his anger. "That was not a very funny joke, Headmaster," he said coldly.
"It was no joke at all,"
Draco looked up and saw Dumbledore's grave face studying him sadly. In his silent hysteria, he turned his head, expecting some kind of support from Potter. But to his surprise he had not reacted at all. He was not angry (not that this was a waste of time for him. Potter, after all didn't have anything better to do anyways), but he did not seem as if he took as a joke either.
Were these people actually serious? Was Potter actually idiotic enough to believe that, or was he in on this lame joke as well? Suddenly Draco's anger deflated and was replaced by humour. God, these people were so lame!! He felt laughter bubbling within him. He tried to suppress it, but it was in vain. In a split second Draco was on the floor laughing his heart out.
Potter and Dumbledore weren't that bad. They were actually quite funny when they weren't busy flaunting their self-righteous sermons in his face. Clutching his side and gasping for breath, Draco managed to splutter, "F-f- funny – joke – S-s-sir –"
Dumbledore knelt by his side and looked him somberly. "As I have said before, Draco, this is no joke."
Draco somehow calmed himself down, sat up and looked from one grave face to the other. They really did not seem as if they were joking – the haunted look in Potter's eyes was impossible to fake. He suddenly felt a rush of panic. What if what the git had said as true? What is he truly was the heir of Slytherin?
He looked sideways at Potter. The subtle lines of stress and determination set hard around his eyes provided him with the conformation that he hoped he would not get. Sighing, Draco dropped down on his chair.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Harry, Draco, you two are the heirs..."
Harry stared at the table in front of him. He had expected something like this the moment Remus had come to pick him up. After all, from what he knew of Dumbledore, he never did anything without a valid reason; and he definitely would not have removed him from his family's protection to tell him some silly story.
Harry's Fate was sealed.
But somehow Harry could not bring himself to care. He had already known his destiny; he just hadn't known what had led to it.
Malfoy was laughing like a crazed lunatic somewhere on his left.
Malfoy.
His Fate was inter-related with Malfoy's. Did it matter?
No.
Sirius was dead...he could not change that. But he would avenge him. He would avenge his death, he would avenge his twelve years in hell and he would avenge his childhood at Grimauld Place.
Harry would be the weapon he was born to be.
Voldemort would pay.
How or with whom he would do it, he did not care. If his partner was to be Malfoy, then be it...
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
By Psycho Fascist
Illusions
Last Bench
Silhouette of Death
The moon, silent and tranquil glowed in a mystical light against the dark, warm summer sky. Shadows danced on the calm, watery surface of the lake, reflecting a play of lights on the walls of the ancient castle. The tree tops gently swayed in a cool fleeting breeze, leaving a silent rattle of branches in its wake. Even the Forbidden Forest in its unmanageable wilderness was relatively quiet tonight.
As Dumbledore looked down upon the calmness, from his office window, he inwardly shivered. Nature was calm in it's tangibility, but not peaceful in it's ambiance. There was a tensed serenity invoked by great magical upheaval, like the forced tranquility of the eye of a storm.
No one had witnessed the immense disturbance in the magical equilibrium or it's unequal distribution, concentrating on two specific units. But they were bound to feel the atmospherical turmoil...it had begun
The beginning of a legend.
The beginning of the sacrifice.
The beginning of the end...
In some morbid fascination, the Fates would be very amused tonight...
*
The door opened and four people entered Dumbledore's office, and pulled him out of his thoughts. He looked up, and his eyes locked on a pair of green eyes. These were illuminated with an ethereal light as usual, but now there was something more...and something less. The naivety and childlike wonder was not there anymore. Dumbledore searched his eyes for it. But it was gone. Instead there was a hard maturity that can only be gained with lost innocence.
He shifted his gaze to Draco. What he saw did not surprise him...much. He knew that Draco never had any naïve innocence; his childhood had been robbed from him by his parents, and now by the people of the magical world. His childhood had been ripped away from him even earlier than it had been from Harry...but he did not expect the cold maturity to be reflected in these gray eyes, which at the moment held a hard, irritated look.
Harry and Draco had both seen too much and had had to stand too much already. Everyone had limits...a line not meant to be crossed. Dumbledore just prayed that the line was not crossed tonight. If they were unable to stand it, it would be his undoing...and that of the world.
Sighing he began...
"How are you both? I know you must be very curious about why you have been brought here, and I will come to that presently. First tell me how you are feeling...do you feel...uh...different somehow?
Harry started. What did Dumbledore mean? What was he trying to imply? Did he know what Harry was going through the whole of the last four hours....though it seemed like ages? Did he know that Harry's scar was nearly bursting just four hours ago? But how? Was Dumbledore expecting this? A million questions flashed through his mind. He had to tell Dumbledore. But...
"No, not at all," lied Harry. He had to. No way was he going to admit his weakness in front of Draco Malfoy. He ran a hand through his hair, and shrugged "well, it was nothing...the scar just throbbed slightly and I felt a jolt...it was so small...I hardly felt it...but I do feel different now."
Draco jerked out his haughty scrutiny of Dumbledore's office, his boredom vanishing and curiosity perked in an instant. Had Potter gone through the same thing as he had? Did the rambling old fool know about it? Did...A thousand questions reeled through his mind as he recalled the pain, the magic...and the power. Writhing in agony Draco had felt the call of the magic of the air he inhaled with every painful breath, the water in the goblet on his bedside table, the fire that flickered in his stone fireplace...he had felt the call from the elements...the universe...raw magic...he did not how it was possible but he had also felt the blood in his veins respond- reply to the call and accept what it had to offer.
But he couldn't tell the senile git all this...so he just covered his discomfort with the skill that he specialized in- disdain.
"Yeah yeah," sniggered Draco, "Little baby Potter's scar was hurting...oh!" He clutched his forehead in mockery and laughed. He rolled his eyes "Yeah Potter, you don't have to try and get the headmaster's pity by complaining about your stupid scar hurting...but yeah...I also felt a jolt...and now I feel different...but why do you care (he scowled)...like I have nothing better to talk about."
Dumbledore smiled, but it was slightly tight-lipped. He knew this would be hard...at least he expected it to be and would be surprised if it was not, and now it seemed that Draco was trying to do everything in his power to make it harder. "Yes, I know that you are both curious, but before I begin I must impress upon you the importance and sensitive nature of what I am about to tell you,"
Draco inclined his head to his left and Harry nodded. Interlacing his fingers on his desk, Dumbledore began to speak, "Sixteen years ago, I was out searching for a divination teacher. I found one living in some rooms above the Hog's Head. On interviewing her, it was quite clear to me, that she was not really a seer...."
Harry frowned and interrupted him, "But I know all this remember? You already told me about her...and why does he have to know?" He jerked his head towards Draco.
"Patience is a virtue, Harry," Dumbledore replied. Draco smirked. "Same goes to you Mr. Malfoy," and the smile on Draco's face was immediately replaced by a scowl.
"So, as I was saying...The minute I spoke to her, I knew that she was not a real seer and so I turned to leave, when suddenly, I heard her speak up, in a harsh voice, totally different from her actual one. I realized then, that she was making a prophecy." Here he stopped and tapped the silver bowl, which rested on this table, and a white figure rose out of it. Harry recognized it to be the pensive, which he had used in the previous term while taking Occlumency lessons from Professor Snape. The white figure repeated the words which were engraved on his mind.
She said "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 a power that the dark lord knows not...and either must to die at the hands 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..."
Draco looked up at Dumbledore, his gray eyes betraying only mild curiosity...he had begun to understand that this was all about Harry...he said "This is about Potter isn't it? You mean that all this...about the Dark Lord...you mean this is all...Fate?" he smirked, "So Potter, you were always meant to die."
Harry's face flushed slightly. But he replied in a calm and steady voice, "Of course I'm meant to die," Harry smirked. "You see, I'm not immortal; though with your over enlarged ego you certainly seem to think so of yourself."
Draco's eyes sharpened, but his face remained impassive. He sneered and drawled, "Better start praying, Potter," With that he stood up and whipped out his wand. In an instant Harry was on his feet, his wand pointing directly at Draco's heart.
Just as Harry and Draco opened their mouths to start a full-fledged duel, Dumbledore stood up and flicked his wand. The two boys were thrown off their feet. They landed with a thud on their chairs. Dumbledore inwardly sighed with relief. He hated to think what would happen if they had dueled with their untrained and uncontrolled powers. He looked up to see two pairs of eyes glaring at each other. He smiled. It was time to be the Headmaster.
"Underage sorcery is prohibited by the law. And may I also impress upon you that dueling on Hogwarts grounds, especially in front of the Headmaster, is most definitely against school rules. Being in this school for the past five years, I expect both of you know this?" Still glaring at each other, Harry and Draco scowled. "Well, no harm done, so I'll just continue with my story..."
* * * * * * * * * * * *
In 358 A.D. Helga Hufflepuff, Godric Gryffindor, Salazar Slytherin and Rowena Ravenclaw- the four greatest sorcerers in wizarding history were brought together by a common goal, a shared dream of training young witches and wizards. On this vision, Hogwarts was founded and the Fate of the world was sealed.
Helga was a seer, and one fateful night she had a vision. In this vision, she saw a time far in the future. A time when an heir of Slytherin would rise, bringing chaos and anarchy into the magical world. Then two heroes will come forward to fight him- the heir of Gryffindor and the second heir of Slytheirn.
Helga made a prophecy after her vision. She said "In the solstice will come a new power...born from the bone of the father, unknowingly provided, flesh of the servant, willingly given, and blood from the foe forcibly taken...the son, the master and the enemy will rise...Suppressed evil and dormant power shall awaken...covering the land in a shadow of darkness...when the will of people shall break, when all hope shall fail, two heroes will emerge...bound by blood and allied by fate they alone will stand against the enemy...they alone will be a match against him....one from the darkness and one from light, they will be the ultimate warriors.....and none will come after..."
After the others learned of Helga's vision and prophecy, they all made a plan to help the two heroes. Rowena called upon the magic of the earth, the stars and the moon; she summoned the raw power of the universe and invoked ancient blood magic to cast a spell of her invention- the Dracenus Parcentium charm on Godric and Salazar. The effect of the charm takes place on the descendants of the person on whom the spell is cast. This charm allows the person to use raw magic. The charm would lie dormant until and unless the right heirs were born, in which case, it would then take effect. Thus the two descendants of Godric and Salazar would experience the effects.
During this time, Salazar already had a daughter, whose bloodline later led to the birth of a boy with a muggle father, and a witch mother, Tom Marvolo Riddle. Brilliant in everything he did, and Head Boy in school, Tom studied dark arts after graduating, and later emerged as the Dark Lord, Lord Voldemort.
After the charm was performed, Slytherin had another child. This child's bloodline led, after many inter-marriages between pureblood families, to a pale skinned, flaxen haired boy. This boy was another brilliant student, like Tom, and with a special flair for potions.
Gryffindor's line led to the birth of yet another boy. This boy, though with a noble and ancient magical heritage, was a half-blood through his muggle-born mother. Like the Slytherin heirs he had exceptional magical prowess and unyielding character; and like the second heir of Slytherin, due to many intermarriages between purebloods, also had Slytherin blood in his along with Gryffindor's
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Dumbledore stopped and looked at the tired and confused faces in front of him. Even with the obviousness of the situation, Harry and Draco did not seem to have understood the implications of his story. Dumbledore could pretend to be disappointed. He could lie and make himself believe that he wanted them to recognize the hints so that he did not have to be the one to hit them with the truth. But he wouldn't do that...couldn't do it...because he knew the truth. He knew that he wanted to postpone the realization as long as he could. He would even cancel it, were it in his power to do so. But alas, it was not.
The power lay with the Fates and the Fates had decided.
The blissful time of postponement had ended. The powers had been unleashed, and the revelation had to be made now...but maybe he could delay it a bit longer...one more night. They were tired now and if he carried on with this, they would not understand anything anyways.
Dumbledore knew he was making excuses, but he didn't care. He would do it tomorrow. He flicked his wand and food appeared on his table. "Harry, Draco, you can finish your dinner here and go to sleep in the Gryffindor dormitory. I shall continue the story tomorrow."
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After Harry and Draco had left, Dumbledore turned to Snape and Remus. He said, "Remus, I think it would be better if you went back to the house. Wait for her to come, and then look after her till the time comes for her to come to school. She will arrive tomorrow at around 6:00 in the morning. I will await your owl." Remus nodded and left the room.
"Severus," Dumbledore continued, "I think it is best if we start the training early tomorrow. Please send owls to Minerva, Flitwick, Poppy, Alastor, and Amelia. Remus will join us presently, and you are already here. Tomorrow morning I will tell them the rest of the story, and see how much they are able to grasp, and from their reactions we shall be able to tell how much help they will require. That is all for now Severus, I thank you for your help thus far and beyond." Snape turned to leave. "Oh and just one more thing...You will please do whatever you can to help Draco...at least to help him overcome the shock...because in his shocked state, it will be really hard for us to help him, and that could come to a disastrous end," Dumbledore added.
"I will do my best Headmaster...you know I will...I have already expressed my feelings on this matter." Severus left the room.
Dumbledore looked out of the window into the darkness outside...he thought of what had happened before, and what lay ahead. He felt a slight pang of guilt...almost as if it was his fault that he did not stop Tom before...he had suspected, but he had not acted on his suspicions. It was not his style to do so, and now he felt a slight regret for it...he made up his mind now...he would undo all of this...he would help these two innocent boys achieve victory over this darkness...he would do whatever he could to bring back the lost humanity...
But it was in vain, and he knew that...these people expected others to die for them, and to protect them from the evil that was spreading even as he thought about it. They did not care if it was their lives pitted against those of two young children. They only cared about themselves and themselves alone. They were selfish and greedy. They wanted peace and happiness. At what price they did not care, as long as they did not have to pay it. They rejoiced at the losses of others, they basked in the glory of selfless sacrifices made by their heroes, as that generally meant something had been gained for them. And they romanticized when their heroes were broken and beaten-somehow tragic heroes appealed to them and gave pleasure to their twisted ignorant minds. It was not because they suffered with their heroes who suffer because of them, it was not because they understood or cared. It was simply because it added colour to their life; gave them something to gossip about, and someone to swoon over.
They were pathetic and not worth the lives that had to be sacrificed to save them. But Dumbledore knew that no matter what he wanted, in the end the sacrifice would be made. No power on earth could challenge the supremacy of the Fates. No logic could outwit their mindless, senseless decisions, designed for ironic humour.
The lives of thousands of fools and cowards against the lives of two innocent boys.
Fate had chosen the masses.
The people had chosen themselves.
And the boys would choose the people.
Destiny had been engraved in stone, and even the great Albus Dumbledore could do nothing to change it.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Draco sneered as he saw the red-gold Gryffindor dormitory.
Red and Gold- the colours of nobility and splendor. His sneer became more prominent. Tired and irritated from the pointless time he had spent in Dumbledore's office, Draco was in no mood to be in a room of bright happy colours, housed by fools.
No wonder his father had hated Dumbledore. The fool had pulled him out of mourning to tell him some stupid prophecy about Potter and an even stupider fairy-tale about the founders. He had given him a history lesson for no good reason...in fact, for no reason at all.
How could such a powerful, ancient family like the Dumbledores lead to such a muggle-loving idiot??!! He had half the mind to tell the Dark Lord about the prophecy. After all, he was dying to know it's contents. But he hesitated. Dumbledore's outright senile stupidity was just another proof that his father was wrong. Blood didn't always bear greatness.
He stalked over to one of the beds and plopped down on it. He looked up and as he saw Potter pull of his shoes, something struck him and he decided to charge Potter with it...
"I know you felt the power too," he said simply, but with force. "The old coot isn't telling us something."
Harry's head snapped up, and his eye's hardened, but as Harry knew, not in Dumbledore's defense but in resentment towards Malfoy. "Yeah well it's probably because of you.... I mean how can you except anyone to trust a git like you?"
"Watch yourself Potter...remember, you are meant to die...so I think I'm probably the one who is going to kill you....and your muggle-loving fool of a Headmaster won't be able to stop me when I do....take good care of yourself little baby!" Draco smirked, and vanished behind the curtains of Neville's bed. As Draco pulled up the bed sheet and closed his eyes, he thought he heard Harry mutter, "Kill me and do me a favour Malfoy."
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The tall oak doors creaked open and Harry walked into the Great Hall. His eyes swept over the head table, taking in the new faces seated there- Hagrid, McGonagall, Madam Pomfrey, and Flitwick. He walked up to them and sat down on the only vacant seat- beside Malfoy. Draco scowled but said nothing. The others just smiled sadly and continued with their breakfast.
Only Dumbledore spoke, "Good morning Harry...I was just telling Mr. Malfoy that since you were both tired yesterday, I did not finish my story, but today after breakfast, I would like you to rejoin me in my office, where I will continue. For the time being...tuck in!"
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Harry was looking at him with a guarded expression- a strained blank façade. He was cautious, taking care to not show what he was thinking. Dumbledore was sure he suspected, and was mildly surprised that he had not said anything.
Draco on the other hand looked uncomfortable, although he seemed to be making a conscious effort to hide it. He was distracted, that much was evident. "That can be fixed. Just wait until I finish telling you my little story..." thought Dumbledore with a sort of detached morbidity.
"Long ago, even before mortal men and women learned about magic, there was a special breed of people called Omega. The Omega were the first to know of and use magic. They did not indulge in the normal sorcery that we normal wizards practice. Their magic was stronger and more powerful...but they were untrained. They did not know what their powers were- their nature, theoretical analysis, or significance. Bu they did know how to use them and what their consequences were.
"Everything in the universe has raw magic in the-the stars, the moon, the earth and the elements. A small amount of this magic resides in witches and wizards. However, the amount in them is so minute that they need a conduit to channel the magic. This is of course their wands. The Omega, on the other hand, possess a greater proportion of raw magic. They can channel magic directly from the universe, especially from the elements...
"Sometime during the course of time Omega blood had mixed with the Gryffindor and Slytherin line through marriage. Do you know what this means?" Draco slightly inclined his head and Harry just stared, his expression still blank. Dumbledore felt a pang. Harry had understood. Mentally shaking himself, he continued, "This means that the heir of Gryffindor and the second heir of Slytherin shall have both the power of the Dracenas Parcentium charm and the ancient magic of the Omega...In my opinion, no mortal man should have wield such power. But the Fates have chosen it's two new victims, and have conveyed the identity of the second through yet another prophecy..."
He went to the cupboard in the corner, and took out the pensive. He placed it on his table, and then stirred it with his wand. The same white figure rose out of the swirling white liquid-like substance. Dumbledore told them to be quiet and to listen to what she had to say.
She opened her mouth and spoke once more, but this time, she said something different. She said "
"The one with the power to vanquish the dark lord will be born as the seventh month dies...by his side will stand HIS BLOOD BROTHER AND CLOSEST ALLY... he will be born during the first full moon of the fourth month...BORN TO SERVITUDE TO DARKNESS, HE SHALL STAND BY THE SAVIOUR OF THE LIGHT...RAISED TO PURSUE HIS FATHER'S PATH, HE SHALL DEFY HIS CUSTOM...AND FIND HIS TRUE HERITAGE... he will fulfill the secret power which will destroy the evil..."
WHEN IT SEEMED AS IF DUMBLEDORE WOULD SAY NO MORE, DRACO SPOKE UP, "THAT WAS A FASCINATING STORY HEADMASTER, BUT WITH ALL DUE RESPECT, WHY ARE YOU TELLING US THIS?" WHY ARE YOU TELLING ME THIS? THOUGHT DRACO. AREN'T BED TIME STORIES FOR POTTER?
Dumbledore visibly sighed. The time had come for the revelation of Fate. "Harry, Draco, you two are the heirs..."
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Harry, Draco, you two are the heirs..."
Draco's temper suddenly flared. The crazy old man had just wasted two days of his precious life for some ridiculous and absolutely lame joke. What was wrong with the git? Didn't he have something better to do? Like plan a resistance against the Dark Lord, or dote on Potter?
Draco suddenly realized that he was clenching his teeth and was griping the chair in a death grip. He immediately relaxed his muscles and tried to calm his anger. "That was not a very funny joke, Headmaster," he said coldly.
"It was no joke at all,"
Draco looked up and saw Dumbledore's grave face studying him sadly. In his silent hysteria, he turned his head, expecting some kind of support from Potter. But to his surprise he had not reacted at all. He was not angry (not that this was a waste of time for him. Potter, after all didn't have anything better to do anyways), but he did not seem as if he took as a joke either.
Were these people actually serious? Was Potter actually idiotic enough to believe that, or was he in on this lame joke as well? Suddenly Draco's anger deflated and was replaced by humour. God, these people were so lame!! He felt laughter bubbling within him. He tried to suppress it, but it was in vain. In a split second Draco was on the floor laughing his heart out.
Potter and Dumbledore weren't that bad. They were actually quite funny when they weren't busy flaunting their self-righteous sermons in his face. Clutching his side and gasping for breath, Draco managed to splutter, "F-f- funny – joke – S-s-sir –"
Dumbledore knelt by his side and looked him somberly. "As I have said before, Draco, this is no joke."
Draco somehow calmed himself down, sat up and looked from one grave face to the other. They really did not seem as if they were joking – the haunted look in Potter's eyes was impossible to fake. He suddenly felt a rush of panic. What if what the git had said as true? What is he truly was the heir of Slytherin?
He looked sideways at Potter. The subtle lines of stress and determination set hard around his eyes provided him with the conformation that he hoped he would not get. Sighing, Draco dropped down on his chair.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Harry, Draco, you two are the heirs..."
Harry stared at the table in front of him. He had expected something like this the moment Remus had come to pick him up. After all, from what he knew of Dumbledore, he never did anything without a valid reason; and he definitely would not have removed him from his family's protection to tell him some silly story.
Harry's Fate was sealed.
But somehow Harry could not bring himself to care. He had already known his destiny; he just hadn't known what had led to it.
Malfoy was laughing like a crazed lunatic somewhere on his left.
Malfoy.
His Fate was inter-related with Malfoy's. Did it matter?
No.
Sirius was dead...he could not change that. But he would avenge him. He would avenge his death, he would avenge his twelve years in hell and he would avenge his childhood at Grimauld Place.
Harry would be the weapon he was born to be.
Voldemort would pay.
How or with whom he would do it, he did not care. If his partner was to be Malfoy, then be it...
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By Psycho Fascist
Illusions
Last Bench
Silhouette of Death