Disclaimer: You know the drill; it's not mine, so don't sue me.
A/N: Hey guys! Thanks again for all of the great feedback. It gives me a spark every time I read one! Anyways, sorry it took me a while to write this chapter. I honestly had no idea what I wanted to happen in my fic so I obviously had to seriously think about it before adding anymore. I hope you like what I've come up with. Anyway, if continue to ramble on too much, I might just burst over excitement to write this chapter, so, on with it!
Chapter 3: The Prophecy
Harry and Hermione lived happily and mainly uneventfully for the next week. Harry was getting to feel adjusted and at home while in the loving house that was Hermione Granger's. She had, like she said, taken care of him and watched over his every move like a mother with a newborn child. Doing this had caused both of them to feel a little bit anxious while around each other. Her newfound babysitting job was taking a bit of a toll on her but she stayed strong, if for no other reason than out of the pure love she had for him. He, however, wasn't quite sure what to think about the whole thing. It was hard for him to be her boyfriend one minute and her child the next. He didn't dare console her about it though, because the last thing he wanted at the moment was to upset her. She seemed to have taken him on as a new homework assignment that she stepped into in full stride. She would check up on him every few minutes to make sure he was all right. If he began to neglect himself as he had done earlier that summer, she would comfort him and remind him that there were still reasons to live. In fact, she had even gone so far as to make a chart for him that was posted in almost every room of the house, reminding him of the simple necessities of bodily nourishment that he had neglected before arriving at her house.
Hermione's work, however, was not in vain. Harry was steadily making more progress and was becoming less depressed as the days wore on. Her persistence was giving him more confidence in himself and he was steadily becoming healthier. He was not as thin as before and was already starting to get back into proper eating habits. He had thrown up, of course, but the intervals of such a matter were becoming wider apart.
On the thirty-first of July, Harry awoke to a noisy knocking at his bedroom door. He turned his head to look at the clock on his bedside table and let out a loud groan after discovering it was only 6:30. 'I'll just go back to sleep,' he thought, but just as he shut his eyes, he heard the rhythmic beating once again.
"Harry...get up. Come on, we're going to be late. We mustn't miss the opening."
Harry sighed again, but followed his orders, knowing very well that a pissed off Hermione wasn't a pleasantry. He got up and put on his round glasses and grabbed a shirt, not really caring what it looked like and an old pair of pants that were far too big for him. Then he hastily grabbed a belt, slipped it through the loops and ran a comb through his hopelessly messy, black hair. "Harry, hurry up, we are going to... oh." Harry had just opened the door looking quite flustered and tired, all the same.
"What's all this racket about being late?" Harry asked, quite unaware of any plans. Instead of an answer, Hermione hurriedly grabbed his hand and pulled him down the stairs. "Hermione, will you please tell me what's going on." At this she threw a pinch of floo powder into the fire and yelled, "Hogsmead!" Before Harry could ask any more questions, she promptly pushed him into the flames, where he felt the familiar uncomfortable feeling of going through a long series of sooty slides. When he finally came out the other end, he found himself in the backroom of what appeared to be The Three Broomsticks. Hermione popped out just after him and the two of them began to hastily rub the soot off of themselves, with little effectiveness.
"Hermione, I thought muggle houses didn't have a connection to the floo network." He spoke with confusion written all over his face.
"Of course they don't. I owled Mr. Weasley and he was able to get me a connection for just a few minutes," she said.
"Oh," he said, thinking of the time in his fourth year when the Weasleys had come to retrieve him from the Dursleys through the floo network. They had gotten stuck behind the electrical fireplace, leaving a very angry and disturbed looking set of relatives.
"Alright, well, now that we're here would you like to grab a butterbeer?" asked Hermione.
"That sounds just fine and dandy," he spoke with a sarcastic grin, causing them both to break out in a fit of giggles.
"Oh and Harry, before I forget, happy birthday!" With this, she took his hand and led him inside and pointed out a table where he could sit down while she got the drinks.
Harry sat down and looked around at the area surrounding him. What was usually a bustling, busy place full of people to the brim had only a few scattered people. Harry noticed this and realized it was probably because most people had sense better than to be out this early in the morning. Never the less, Harry smiled at the thought that Hermione had remembered his birthday and had gone through with plans to ensure that he had a good one. Starting to pay more attention to the early risers and, in some case, really late nighters, around him, he noticed a very sketchy-looking man with tattered clothes and a gruff beard sitting with a younger woman who had soft, blond curls and purple robes with what looked like a top-of-the- line dragon hide handbag. Harry furled up his eyebrows in confusion at the pair of what appeared to be two very opposite people. Then realizing that he was staring, he moved his attention away to glance at a table of people with their backs turned the other way. Thinking they looked familiar, he wished he could see their faces. Moving his attention to the left again, he saw Hermione approaching his table bearing two large butterbeers. He smiled at her as she handed him his drink and took her seat next to him. For a few moments, they sat silently enjoying each other's presence and sipping their drinks. Hermione opened her mouth to speak but just as she was about to start talking, the door to The Three Broomsticks flew open and in the doorway stood none other than an extremely troubled looking Professor Trelawney. She stormed in, hurriedly asked for a fire whiskey and then threw herself into a chair at the table in the corner. Madam Rosmerta quickly prepared her drink and then rushed over to comfort the hysterical woman. Harry and Hermione glanced at each other with raised eyebrows. They hadn't seen her looking like this since Professor Umbridge had fired her the year before. In fact they hadn't even seen her since that particular instance. After a little while, Madam Rosmerta got up to retrieve drinks for a large group of adults that had just entered. Harry and Hermione exchanged a glance before getting up to console her. When they got nearer, they could make out pieces of muffled mumbling between sobs.
"Err... Professor Trelawney?" Harry asked with caution.
She looked up and realized that the students that had come to her comfort were none other than her favorite person to come up with tragic, young deaths about and the one that had stormed out of her room, announcing that she was finished with the rubbish class halfway through third year.
"What do you want?" she spat, with no sign of her usual misty voice.
"You know, you shouldn't be mean to us, we're just trying to help," came an irritated Hermione.
"I don't think I need any help from a pair of raging, unbalanced teenagers."
"With all due respect Professor, I'm not the one balling in tears. If you want us to go away, we will. We just wondered if you'd like to talk about it," said Harry, sounding a little taken aback.
"Well, if you really must know, I haven't much longer to live. Of course, you're probably happy about that. You can continue to be taught by that- that-replacement!" She bellowed the last word and then burst into a rivulet of tears once again. Harry took this opportunity to steal a glance at Hermione, who seemed to be just as confused by the matter.
"Err, if you don't mind me asking, how are you dying? I mean are you ill or something?" Harry asked this question with caution for fear of her reaction. But, whatever it was that he was expecting, it certainly wasn't for her to stop crying and stare him straight in the eyes.
"I was sitting up in my tower, peacefully minding my own business, prepared to take a reading of my tealeaves, when I saw myself joining the rest of the staff for dinner. Of course, I couldn't mess with the fates so I rose and went down to join them." Hermione rolled her eyes at this, but Professor Trelawney didn't seem to notice her or Harry's slight grin, so she continued. "Upon my arrival, I took my seat and hastily counted the people around me. When I realized I was the thirteenth, my heart sank and I felt it was only polite to inform everyone else of such an unlucky omen. 'There are thirteen of us dining, meaning whomever is the unlucky sole to rise first, shall find themselves in grave peril at a soon date.' That's when that horrid, preposterous woman decided to raise an argument."
At this, Hermione interrupted, for she was quite curious as to know who such a woman could be. "What woman?"
Sybil Trelawney's eyes became dangerously thin and her nose wrinkled up in a look of pure disgust. She spoke the name as if it was a terrible curse word, uttered only in the darkest of instances. "Minerva McGonagall."
At the announcement of this name, Hermione burst into laughter. Professor McGonagall was without a doubt her favorite teacher and transfiguration, her favorite class, while she had no respect whatsoever for Professor Trelawney or the subject that she taught. Sybill gave Hermione the nastiest of glares, yet Hermione couldn't help but chuckle and didn't stop all together for another minute. When she was, at long last, done laughing, Sybill continued with her story.
"As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted," she shot Hermione a death glare, "Minerva seemed to think that my subject was complete rubbish and I couldn't help but notice the grins from many of the other teachers when she said it so I simply said, 'The fates have informed me that I am not welcome in such a group and I shall be leaving you to eat in peace, for I received an omen.' At that I stood up and began to make my way out of the hall when Severus called after me and said, 'Sybill, it seems that you have just forgotten the whole reason for getting upset in the first place. I believe you were just the first person to rise from a dining group of thirteen.' I turned to look at him and realized with a pang of horror that he was quite right. He seemed to think it was quite hilarious that I should be so distraught at the idea but I had no choice but to run back up to my tower and study my fate more carefully to see how it was that I would be destined to die. I gazed into my crystal ball and found a terrible result: suicide." She spoke the last word so dramatically and in such pain that it was as though she had already killed herself.
Hermione could hold it in no longer. She began to laugh so hard that tears were forming in her bright, brown eyes. "You've got to be kidding me! All this fuss is over a stupid omen. Honestly, you saw yourself committing suicide and are all worked up over something that you can easily have a choice over?" Hermione laughed even harder, if that was at all possible.
"Stupid, ignorant girl! I knew I couldn't confide in you, you obviously don't care. Even you could show some sympathy."
"Sympathy? SYMPATHY! It was a stupid vision about something that you can easily alter!"
"It does not due to mess with the fate that is given to you!"
Harry noticed that the entire room was silent and staring at the X-teacher and student who were arguing at the top of their lungs. Deciding that this was probably a good place to butt in, he grabbed Hermione's hand and Professor Trelawney's shoulder.
"Err, Professor Trelawney, Hermione and I would love to escort you back up to Hogwarts." Without waiting for a reply, he pulled the two of them out of the bar and started walking brisk fully towards his school.
The trio walked silently up to Hogwarts castle and when they arrived there about fifteen minutes later, Harry couldn't help but feel a little happy to be back, even if it was just for a few minutes, while they handed her off to Professor Dumbledore. They made their way inside and Harry, being the most eager to do this, urged them on towards the magnificent office of the current and past headmasters. When they finally made it to the statue, Harry realized that he didn't know the password and glanced at Professor Trelawney, who didn't seem too keen on telling him, but reluctantly said, "Ton-Tongue Toffee," and the spinning spiral staircase started to screw upwards. They stepped onto the staircase and when it reached the top, they knocked on the door. Voices could be heard from inside and, ironically, it was none other than the stern, transfiguration teacher who opened the door. She scowled when she saw Sybill, but her scowl quickly turned to confusion as she noticed two of her students accompanying her. In the room along with Professor Dumbledore, were Professor Snape and Remus Lupin as well as, obviously, Minerva McGonagall.
"Troublemaking early this year, Potter?" came the low sneer of Harry's least favorite teacher, Severus Snape. "Even your father managed to stay out of trouble for the most part over the holidays, but I daresay you..."
"That will do, Severus," came the saving voice of Professor Albus Dumbledore. "Harry, Hermione, it is so good of you to join us, but, if you don't mind me asking, what brings you here on such a lovely morning?" At this, both Hermione and Sybil threw Harry murderous glances as to say, 'Good question.' Taking this as his cue, Harry stepped forward.
"Sorry for the interruption, Professor. Hermione thought it would be a good idea to take me to Hogsmead for my birthday and while we were there, we ran into Professor Trelawney, who seemed to think that the err... fates had informed her that she was going to commit suicide. While I'm sure Hermione would have been more than happy to leave our err... favorite teacher in such a state, I thought it would be nice to escort her back up to the castle for some kind of err... psychological help."
Both Hermione and Professor Trelawney scoffed at different points during this, making it quite clear that they thought each other as well as Harry were off their rocker.
"Thank you Harry and Hermione for being so kind as to escort Sybill back up to the castle. I daresay she may have made a terrible mistake if the case had gone unattended. Minerva, I believe you and Severus have some apologies to make to Sybill?" They regretfully nodded at this and stepped forward in turn, like young children who had been involved in a playground argument.
"Err... Sybil, I'm err... sorry about how I treated you earlier and I don't err... think that your class is a total waste of time." Then mumbling more to herself than to anyone else, Professor McGonagall said very quietly, what Harry thought sounded an awful lot like, "Just 99% of it."
Then, it was Snape's turn and he said, very forcefully and with a hint of sarcasm, "I apologize if I made humor of your ever so important omen and ability to count. I shall bow down to your superiority and I admit that I was only jealous of you, having never had the ability to count to the number thirteen myself."
"Thank you Minerva and Severus," Dumbledore said, nodding to each of them in turn. "Now I'm sure Harry and Hermione would like to return to..." but, before he could finish, he was interrupted by a high-pitched, shrill voice, coming from the seer.
"The one finds his other half.
Tonight, words past spoken shall be repeated
And on the moment of his devotion shown,
His Blood shall rise and then be seated."
Then Professor Trelawney fainted and everyone in the room seemed to be frozen to their spots. About a minute later, Sybill awoke, quite unaware that she had just made a prophecy, looking around at all of the staring faces around her. Then, speaking quite dumbly, she said simply, "What?"
Slowly and hesitantly, with an uncharacteristic look of confusion on her face, Hermione raised her hand.
"Yes Ms. Granger?" asked Dumbledore in a kind voice.
"Did she just make a... a real prophecy?"
"Indeed. That makes three that I am aware of."
"But, Professor, what does it mean?" said a shaky voice of Harry Potter.
"I'm afraid, even I don't know the answer to that question, but it appears that we'll find out soon enough because it said it was going to happen tonight." Dumbledore spoke; in what Harry thought was the utmost calmness for such an instance. "All I can say is that it appears to be about you, Harry. You must be 'the one' that the prophecy speaks of, as I can think of no one else who could possibly take on such a title.
At this newfound information, Harry sighed. "Great, that's all I need, another damn prophecy."
"Language, Potter," snapped McGonagall.
Harry sighed again, but this time he didn't say anything, and Dumbledore spoke. "Harry, since we are unaware of what the prophecy means, you and Ms. Granger are more than welcome to spend the rest of the day here, as well as the night, as I highly doubt that you would want to leave right after the prophecy is fulfilled anyway. Am I correct in this assumption?" Harry met Hermione's eyes and she nodded, so he replied.
"Yes. Thank you sir."
"We were just heading down to breakfast before you came to join us, would you like some?" asked Dumbledore.
"Err... yes please," said Harry.
Then Dumbledore turned to Remus who had been quiet this whole time and said, "Remus, if you would please be so kind as to take Harry and Hermione down to the Great Hall." Then turning back towards where McGonagall and Snape were standing, "Minerva, Severus, would you please escort Sybill back up to her tower, unless of course, she wishes to join us?"
Professor Trelawney shook her head 'no' and said, "I'll walk up there myself, Albus, and I don't need them helping me."
"All right then, let's head down now, shall we?" said Snape, who was glad to be rid of any chore that involved him being with the infamous Sybill Trelawney.
So they all made their way down to the Great Hall wondering what the prophecy was about and whether it could mean something terribly bad for the already struggled sixteen-year-old boy who was quickly becoming a man against his will.
A/N: Hey everybody! Sorry again about the long wait, this chapter definitely gave me some trouble writing it. I hope you enjoy it and don't forget to send lots and lots of wonderful reviews!
A/N: Hey guys! Thanks again for all of the great feedback. It gives me a spark every time I read one! Anyways, sorry it took me a while to write this chapter. I honestly had no idea what I wanted to happen in my fic so I obviously had to seriously think about it before adding anymore. I hope you like what I've come up with. Anyway, if continue to ramble on too much, I might just burst over excitement to write this chapter, so, on with it!
Chapter 3: The Prophecy
Harry and Hermione lived happily and mainly uneventfully for the next week. Harry was getting to feel adjusted and at home while in the loving house that was Hermione Granger's. She had, like she said, taken care of him and watched over his every move like a mother with a newborn child. Doing this had caused both of them to feel a little bit anxious while around each other. Her newfound babysitting job was taking a bit of a toll on her but she stayed strong, if for no other reason than out of the pure love she had for him. He, however, wasn't quite sure what to think about the whole thing. It was hard for him to be her boyfriend one minute and her child the next. He didn't dare console her about it though, because the last thing he wanted at the moment was to upset her. She seemed to have taken him on as a new homework assignment that she stepped into in full stride. She would check up on him every few minutes to make sure he was all right. If he began to neglect himself as he had done earlier that summer, she would comfort him and remind him that there were still reasons to live. In fact, she had even gone so far as to make a chart for him that was posted in almost every room of the house, reminding him of the simple necessities of bodily nourishment that he had neglected before arriving at her house.
Hermione's work, however, was not in vain. Harry was steadily making more progress and was becoming less depressed as the days wore on. Her persistence was giving him more confidence in himself and he was steadily becoming healthier. He was not as thin as before and was already starting to get back into proper eating habits. He had thrown up, of course, but the intervals of such a matter were becoming wider apart.
On the thirty-first of July, Harry awoke to a noisy knocking at his bedroom door. He turned his head to look at the clock on his bedside table and let out a loud groan after discovering it was only 6:30. 'I'll just go back to sleep,' he thought, but just as he shut his eyes, he heard the rhythmic beating once again.
"Harry...get up. Come on, we're going to be late. We mustn't miss the opening."
Harry sighed again, but followed his orders, knowing very well that a pissed off Hermione wasn't a pleasantry. He got up and put on his round glasses and grabbed a shirt, not really caring what it looked like and an old pair of pants that were far too big for him. Then he hastily grabbed a belt, slipped it through the loops and ran a comb through his hopelessly messy, black hair. "Harry, hurry up, we are going to... oh." Harry had just opened the door looking quite flustered and tired, all the same.
"What's all this racket about being late?" Harry asked, quite unaware of any plans. Instead of an answer, Hermione hurriedly grabbed his hand and pulled him down the stairs. "Hermione, will you please tell me what's going on." At this she threw a pinch of floo powder into the fire and yelled, "Hogsmead!" Before Harry could ask any more questions, she promptly pushed him into the flames, where he felt the familiar uncomfortable feeling of going through a long series of sooty slides. When he finally came out the other end, he found himself in the backroom of what appeared to be The Three Broomsticks. Hermione popped out just after him and the two of them began to hastily rub the soot off of themselves, with little effectiveness.
"Hermione, I thought muggle houses didn't have a connection to the floo network." He spoke with confusion written all over his face.
"Of course they don't. I owled Mr. Weasley and he was able to get me a connection for just a few minutes," she said.
"Oh," he said, thinking of the time in his fourth year when the Weasleys had come to retrieve him from the Dursleys through the floo network. They had gotten stuck behind the electrical fireplace, leaving a very angry and disturbed looking set of relatives.
"Alright, well, now that we're here would you like to grab a butterbeer?" asked Hermione.
"That sounds just fine and dandy," he spoke with a sarcastic grin, causing them both to break out in a fit of giggles.
"Oh and Harry, before I forget, happy birthday!" With this, she took his hand and led him inside and pointed out a table where he could sit down while she got the drinks.
Harry sat down and looked around at the area surrounding him. What was usually a bustling, busy place full of people to the brim had only a few scattered people. Harry noticed this and realized it was probably because most people had sense better than to be out this early in the morning. Never the less, Harry smiled at the thought that Hermione had remembered his birthday and had gone through with plans to ensure that he had a good one. Starting to pay more attention to the early risers and, in some case, really late nighters, around him, he noticed a very sketchy-looking man with tattered clothes and a gruff beard sitting with a younger woman who had soft, blond curls and purple robes with what looked like a top-of-the- line dragon hide handbag. Harry furled up his eyebrows in confusion at the pair of what appeared to be two very opposite people. Then realizing that he was staring, he moved his attention away to glance at a table of people with their backs turned the other way. Thinking they looked familiar, he wished he could see their faces. Moving his attention to the left again, he saw Hermione approaching his table bearing two large butterbeers. He smiled at her as she handed him his drink and took her seat next to him. For a few moments, they sat silently enjoying each other's presence and sipping their drinks. Hermione opened her mouth to speak but just as she was about to start talking, the door to The Three Broomsticks flew open and in the doorway stood none other than an extremely troubled looking Professor Trelawney. She stormed in, hurriedly asked for a fire whiskey and then threw herself into a chair at the table in the corner. Madam Rosmerta quickly prepared her drink and then rushed over to comfort the hysterical woman. Harry and Hermione glanced at each other with raised eyebrows. They hadn't seen her looking like this since Professor Umbridge had fired her the year before. In fact they hadn't even seen her since that particular instance. After a little while, Madam Rosmerta got up to retrieve drinks for a large group of adults that had just entered. Harry and Hermione exchanged a glance before getting up to console her. When they got nearer, they could make out pieces of muffled mumbling between sobs.
"Err... Professor Trelawney?" Harry asked with caution.
She looked up and realized that the students that had come to her comfort were none other than her favorite person to come up with tragic, young deaths about and the one that had stormed out of her room, announcing that she was finished with the rubbish class halfway through third year.
"What do you want?" she spat, with no sign of her usual misty voice.
"You know, you shouldn't be mean to us, we're just trying to help," came an irritated Hermione.
"I don't think I need any help from a pair of raging, unbalanced teenagers."
"With all due respect Professor, I'm not the one balling in tears. If you want us to go away, we will. We just wondered if you'd like to talk about it," said Harry, sounding a little taken aback.
"Well, if you really must know, I haven't much longer to live. Of course, you're probably happy about that. You can continue to be taught by that- that-replacement!" She bellowed the last word and then burst into a rivulet of tears once again. Harry took this opportunity to steal a glance at Hermione, who seemed to be just as confused by the matter.
"Err, if you don't mind me asking, how are you dying? I mean are you ill or something?" Harry asked this question with caution for fear of her reaction. But, whatever it was that he was expecting, it certainly wasn't for her to stop crying and stare him straight in the eyes.
"I was sitting up in my tower, peacefully minding my own business, prepared to take a reading of my tealeaves, when I saw myself joining the rest of the staff for dinner. Of course, I couldn't mess with the fates so I rose and went down to join them." Hermione rolled her eyes at this, but Professor Trelawney didn't seem to notice her or Harry's slight grin, so she continued. "Upon my arrival, I took my seat and hastily counted the people around me. When I realized I was the thirteenth, my heart sank and I felt it was only polite to inform everyone else of such an unlucky omen. 'There are thirteen of us dining, meaning whomever is the unlucky sole to rise first, shall find themselves in grave peril at a soon date.' That's when that horrid, preposterous woman decided to raise an argument."
At this, Hermione interrupted, for she was quite curious as to know who such a woman could be. "What woman?"
Sybil Trelawney's eyes became dangerously thin and her nose wrinkled up in a look of pure disgust. She spoke the name as if it was a terrible curse word, uttered only in the darkest of instances. "Minerva McGonagall."
At the announcement of this name, Hermione burst into laughter. Professor McGonagall was without a doubt her favorite teacher and transfiguration, her favorite class, while she had no respect whatsoever for Professor Trelawney or the subject that she taught. Sybill gave Hermione the nastiest of glares, yet Hermione couldn't help but chuckle and didn't stop all together for another minute. When she was, at long last, done laughing, Sybill continued with her story.
"As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted," she shot Hermione a death glare, "Minerva seemed to think that my subject was complete rubbish and I couldn't help but notice the grins from many of the other teachers when she said it so I simply said, 'The fates have informed me that I am not welcome in such a group and I shall be leaving you to eat in peace, for I received an omen.' At that I stood up and began to make my way out of the hall when Severus called after me and said, 'Sybill, it seems that you have just forgotten the whole reason for getting upset in the first place. I believe you were just the first person to rise from a dining group of thirteen.' I turned to look at him and realized with a pang of horror that he was quite right. He seemed to think it was quite hilarious that I should be so distraught at the idea but I had no choice but to run back up to my tower and study my fate more carefully to see how it was that I would be destined to die. I gazed into my crystal ball and found a terrible result: suicide." She spoke the last word so dramatically and in such pain that it was as though she had already killed herself.
Hermione could hold it in no longer. She began to laugh so hard that tears were forming in her bright, brown eyes. "You've got to be kidding me! All this fuss is over a stupid omen. Honestly, you saw yourself committing suicide and are all worked up over something that you can easily have a choice over?" Hermione laughed even harder, if that was at all possible.
"Stupid, ignorant girl! I knew I couldn't confide in you, you obviously don't care. Even you could show some sympathy."
"Sympathy? SYMPATHY! It was a stupid vision about something that you can easily alter!"
"It does not due to mess with the fate that is given to you!"
Harry noticed that the entire room was silent and staring at the X-teacher and student who were arguing at the top of their lungs. Deciding that this was probably a good place to butt in, he grabbed Hermione's hand and Professor Trelawney's shoulder.
"Err, Professor Trelawney, Hermione and I would love to escort you back up to Hogwarts." Without waiting for a reply, he pulled the two of them out of the bar and started walking brisk fully towards his school.
The trio walked silently up to Hogwarts castle and when they arrived there about fifteen minutes later, Harry couldn't help but feel a little happy to be back, even if it was just for a few minutes, while they handed her off to Professor Dumbledore. They made their way inside and Harry, being the most eager to do this, urged them on towards the magnificent office of the current and past headmasters. When they finally made it to the statue, Harry realized that he didn't know the password and glanced at Professor Trelawney, who didn't seem too keen on telling him, but reluctantly said, "Ton-Tongue Toffee," and the spinning spiral staircase started to screw upwards. They stepped onto the staircase and when it reached the top, they knocked on the door. Voices could be heard from inside and, ironically, it was none other than the stern, transfiguration teacher who opened the door. She scowled when she saw Sybill, but her scowl quickly turned to confusion as she noticed two of her students accompanying her. In the room along with Professor Dumbledore, were Professor Snape and Remus Lupin as well as, obviously, Minerva McGonagall.
"Troublemaking early this year, Potter?" came the low sneer of Harry's least favorite teacher, Severus Snape. "Even your father managed to stay out of trouble for the most part over the holidays, but I daresay you..."
"That will do, Severus," came the saving voice of Professor Albus Dumbledore. "Harry, Hermione, it is so good of you to join us, but, if you don't mind me asking, what brings you here on such a lovely morning?" At this, both Hermione and Sybil threw Harry murderous glances as to say, 'Good question.' Taking this as his cue, Harry stepped forward.
"Sorry for the interruption, Professor. Hermione thought it would be a good idea to take me to Hogsmead for my birthday and while we were there, we ran into Professor Trelawney, who seemed to think that the err... fates had informed her that she was going to commit suicide. While I'm sure Hermione would have been more than happy to leave our err... favorite teacher in such a state, I thought it would be nice to escort her back up to the castle for some kind of err... psychological help."
Both Hermione and Professor Trelawney scoffed at different points during this, making it quite clear that they thought each other as well as Harry were off their rocker.
"Thank you Harry and Hermione for being so kind as to escort Sybill back up to the castle. I daresay she may have made a terrible mistake if the case had gone unattended. Minerva, I believe you and Severus have some apologies to make to Sybill?" They regretfully nodded at this and stepped forward in turn, like young children who had been involved in a playground argument.
"Err... Sybil, I'm err... sorry about how I treated you earlier and I don't err... think that your class is a total waste of time." Then mumbling more to herself than to anyone else, Professor McGonagall said very quietly, what Harry thought sounded an awful lot like, "Just 99% of it."
Then, it was Snape's turn and he said, very forcefully and with a hint of sarcasm, "I apologize if I made humor of your ever so important omen and ability to count. I shall bow down to your superiority and I admit that I was only jealous of you, having never had the ability to count to the number thirteen myself."
"Thank you Minerva and Severus," Dumbledore said, nodding to each of them in turn. "Now I'm sure Harry and Hermione would like to return to..." but, before he could finish, he was interrupted by a high-pitched, shrill voice, coming from the seer.
"The one finds his other half.
Tonight, words past spoken shall be repeated
And on the moment of his devotion shown,
His Blood shall rise and then be seated."
Then Professor Trelawney fainted and everyone in the room seemed to be frozen to their spots. About a minute later, Sybill awoke, quite unaware that she had just made a prophecy, looking around at all of the staring faces around her. Then, speaking quite dumbly, she said simply, "What?"
Slowly and hesitantly, with an uncharacteristic look of confusion on her face, Hermione raised her hand.
"Yes Ms. Granger?" asked Dumbledore in a kind voice.
"Did she just make a... a real prophecy?"
"Indeed. That makes three that I am aware of."
"But, Professor, what does it mean?" said a shaky voice of Harry Potter.
"I'm afraid, even I don't know the answer to that question, but it appears that we'll find out soon enough because it said it was going to happen tonight." Dumbledore spoke; in what Harry thought was the utmost calmness for such an instance. "All I can say is that it appears to be about you, Harry. You must be 'the one' that the prophecy speaks of, as I can think of no one else who could possibly take on such a title.
At this newfound information, Harry sighed. "Great, that's all I need, another damn prophecy."
"Language, Potter," snapped McGonagall.
Harry sighed again, but this time he didn't say anything, and Dumbledore spoke. "Harry, since we are unaware of what the prophecy means, you and Ms. Granger are more than welcome to spend the rest of the day here, as well as the night, as I highly doubt that you would want to leave right after the prophecy is fulfilled anyway. Am I correct in this assumption?" Harry met Hermione's eyes and she nodded, so he replied.
"Yes. Thank you sir."
"We were just heading down to breakfast before you came to join us, would you like some?" asked Dumbledore.
"Err... yes please," said Harry.
Then Dumbledore turned to Remus who had been quiet this whole time and said, "Remus, if you would please be so kind as to take Harry and Hermione down to the Great Hall." Then turning back towards where McGonagall and Snape were standing, "Minerva, Severus, would you please escort Sybill back up to her tower, unless of course, she wishes to join us?"
Professor Trelawney shook her head 'no' and said, "I'll walk up there myself, Albus, and I don't need them helping me."
"All right then, let's head down now, shall we?" said Snape, who was glad to be rid of any chore that involved him being with the infamous Sybill Trelawney.
So they all made their way down to the Great Hall wondering what the prophecy was about and whether it could mean something terribly bad for the already struggled sixteen-year-old boy who was quickly becoming a man against his will.
A/N: Hey everybody! Sorry again about the long wait, this chapter definitely gave me some trouble writing it. I hope you enjoy it and don't forget to send lots and lots of wonderful reviews!