Chapter 19: Slytherin v. Gryffindor Pt. 1
Myles hadn't been ready just how loud and energized the Quidditch stadium would be. The air shook and the structure trembled with the amassed shouting and stamping feet. Every student at Hogwarts was here, packing the student section, and there was a separate section for adults that held nearly as many wizards and witches as there were students. The screams and shouts and the press of bodies brought Myles back to the congested corridors of the Ministry during it's panicked emergency. He froze at the entrance to the stands, momentarily unable to move.
"Come on," Cecilia had to shout over the noise of the stadium, grabbing his arm dragging him out of the entrance to the stands and up the stairs. They found room for the two of them in the back row, nestled in between a group of upper year Hufflepuffs and a trio of third year Slytherins.
"And here comes Gryffindor!" A magically empowered voice called out from the center of the field, accompanied by a roar of cheers from the Gryffindors in the stands. "Led by the indomitable Ms. Croft! Will the Gryffindor captain Chase down the House's first victory in three years?"
The Gryffindor cheers faltered at the mention of their three year loss streak. Myles recognized the commentator's voice; it was Arran Kent, the least Ravenclaw Ravenclaw in the House. He wasn't studious but he was well known and well liked. If he recalled correctly, Arran spent most of his time fooling around with one of the many Weasleys, Fred.
"She's followed by Seeker James Potter in his debut! Will he take after his father on the broomstick?"
"And there's Fred Weasley, hopefully he's gotten better at Keeping because he's not good for much else!" Fred, flying out into the pitch with a wide grin, did a happy barrel roll as if Kent's commentary had been a warm compliment.
"Here are two new more new faces, the Gryffindor beaters! Aila Preece and Nolan Timms! Hopefully they can turn Gryffindor's horrible luck with Bludgers - knowing Slytherin, that won't be an easy task!"
"And the delightful Dominique Weasley! I'm free next Hogsmeade, is that a date?" Dominique, Myles recognized her as Elias's sister, sent an obscene hand gesture toward the commentator table and the sound of Arran being cuffed on the head echoed throughout the stadium.
A feminine voice Myles didn't recognize took over. "And last but not least, Chaser and first-year phenomenon Lyla Laughlin!" Myles joined the cheers for his friend, who wore a huge smile on her face as she lapped around the stadium with the Gryffindor team.
"A first year?" Arran's voice cut back in incredulously. "Are they that desperate?" The girl audibly cuffed Arran on the head again, receiving a round of Gryffindor cheers for her efforts.
"And here comes Slytherin!" She continued as the Slytherin team flew out of their locker room. "Led by Captain Lament, rumors are he already has five League offers to play Beater after graduation!"
"Behind him is Evan Vace, last time we saw him on the pitch he Kept the first perfect game in twenty years! Can he do it again?"
"Lament might have his five League offers, but the second half of the Slytherin Beater duo is no less formidable himself, Henry Sid!" Even from the stands, Myles could tell that these three Slytherins were humongous. The Keeper, Vace was built tall and long, but Lament and Sid could give Hagrid a run for his money. He looked down the line of silver and black cloaks and saw that the last figure was dwarfed by those who flew around him.
"Seeker Grayson Hodges has moved from the bench to the spotlight this year! Two debuting Seekers, will Hodges or Potter find the edge in this matchup?"
"And here are the Chasers!"
"Eamon Vain played a supporting role last year on a team that graduated two Chasers to the pros, how will fare in leading Slytherin's Chasers now?"
"Here's Ewen Driscoll! We saw him sub for a game last year after an injury and now he's taken a starting position!"
"And last but not least, a late adjustment to the starting roster, Albus Potter!" The dwarfed figure was none other than the classmate Myles had healed after his Quidditch tryouts. Most of the players had waved to the crowd or shown off when they were called, but Al ignored the announcers as he lapped the field with his team.
"Another first year?!" Kent's voice cut back in. "Are they both desperate?!"
"Shut up, Kent!" The girl's voice came back, along with another cuffing noise.
"Ouch, Alex! Calm down!" Kent complained. Alex, Myles now had a name for the co-announcer, continued as if Kent had never interrupted.
"A first-year Lion and a first-year Snake, is this the start of a Chaser rivalry? And let's not forget James Potter is Seeking for Gryffindor, it's a battle for family bragging rights!" James Potter was passing by Myles's area of the stands in his lap around the field and he saw a petulant expression come onto the third year Gryffindor's face at the announcement.
"We'll see…" Kent seemed to be about to say something disparaging about the two first-years but apparently thought better of it.
"How great they are!" He finished lamely. Myles could imagine the fifth-year Ravenclaw rubbing his head as he said it.
"It'll be an exciting match!" Alex continued after a pause from the announcers. The Quidditch teams had each claimed a side of the pitch and had started warming up. "Slytherin still has a veteran line of defence in their star Beaters and Keeper, but their Chasers and Seeker are young. They'll need to perform if Slytherin wants to win the Quidditch Cup for the fourth year in a row."
"Gryffindor has had a nasty streak of luck the past three years," Kent responded, showing that the two announcers actually could work together. "They haven't been able to win a single game since they won the Cup four years ago, and while the fresh faces on the team are a good sign going forward, it's hard to imagine them beating the veteran Slytherin backline. The Seeker matchup is the one to watch, two debuting Seekers might give Gryffindor a chance to take the game."
"I have to agree. Given Vace's performance last year, including the perfect game, it's hard to imagine the Gryffindor frontline winning out but we'll have to see what the Lions have up their sleeve; they wouldn't have started a first-year Chaser without reason!" Alex said, trying to bring some excitement to a part of the game both announcers clearly thought would be one-sided.
"Mufiliato," Cecilia cast, blurring and dimming the sound coming in and around the two of them. The energy of the stands and the conversation between the two announcers had distracted Myles, but as the sound blurred around them he refocused on the events of last night and the conversation they'd had at breakfast. Myles hadn't thought the packed full Quidditch stands would be a good place for secretive conversation, but realized it was perfect. There was so much noise that even those sitting right next to them wouldn't realize that Cecilia had cast the Mufiliato Charm. And with all of the attention focused on the Quidditch match about to start ahead of them, no one would care for a conversation between a pair of first-years.
"I don't know what it means," Cecilia spoke over muffled sounds of the Quidditch stadium, diving back into their conversation as if they'd never paused. "Few prophecies are ever understood without hindsight. Their purpose isn't to be understood, Fate's purpose is to affect change, to guide the future. Some even believe the prophecies aren't true, that we force the narrative to fit the words of prophecy."
"What I'm trying to say is," Cecilia turned away from the Quidditch warm-ups to look Myles in the eyes. "We can guess at what it means, but we shouldn't rely on it."
"And you're sure we're involved in the prophecy?" Myles asked, wondering why a prophecy would include him.
"I doubt that I'm involved in the prophecy," Cecilia said, eying him with amusement. "You're involved in the prophecy. Prophecies are meant to be heard by their subjects, or to directly affect their subjects somehow. Last night, not only were you the only one around, Fate waited until you were the only one around. The walls of the world were thinnest as the candles faded, yet the prophecy didn't channel until we were alone."
"But…," Myles struggled for words. "Why? Wouldn't there be a better way for it to affect change?"
"It's a prophecy, we can't know why for sure, but why shouldn't it be you?"
Because, Myles thought, the subjects of prophecies were heroes, wizards and witches both capable and confident. Lyla might have been perfect, she thrived under pressure or in danger. Or, sometimes, the subjects of prophecies were wise and mysterious. Cecilia was as mysterious as a witch could be, and certainly more clever and knowledgeable than Myles. And that was just looking at first-years, why not Teddy Lupin or Headmistress McGonagall?
"I'm not prophecy material," Myles eventually said.
Cecilia didn't look surprised at his response. "Would it surprise you if the prophecy had chosen another first-year, maybe Lyla or one of the Malfoys?"
Myles shook his head, he'd already thought of Lyla as a perfect fit and the Malfoy twins were both striking in their own way.
"All three of them are talented, but the Malfoys have grown up with private tutors and Lyla has been playing dueling-like games in her neighborhood for years. Isn't it more impressive that you're competing with them despite their advantages? Class grades might not show it yet, but you're the best in our year at Charms and you aren't far behind anyone in the rest of the classes. And that's in a year of anomalies, the brightest second-year, Ester Broden, is as talented as Rose but without her memory or book-obsession."
"What I'm trying to say is: try looking at yourself as other people see you. The mysterious Ravenclaw, the boy without a surname who sat under the Sorting Hat for eight whole minutes. Who used an obscure and difficult dueling technique in his first Defence Class."
"But those things aren't as interesting as they sound!" Myles protested. "Having a surname has nothing to do with anything I've done, the Sorting Hat just took a long time to Sort me, and the Spellcatching was just an accident!"
"Even when I first saw you, I knew you were somehow important," Cecilia went on, ignoring Myles completely. "I'd never had a prophecy channeled through me until last night, but I've always caught glimpses of Fate, flashes of strange images in my head, tainted by emotion. I noticed something about you when I first saw you, it's why I dragged you along through Diagon Alley. And then you were picked by a wand that predates the Interdict of Merlin. Do you really believe that you're ordinary?"
It was hard to refute Cecilia, but Myles didn't feel special. Most of what she listed were events that happened to him, not anything that he had done. He had no control over what wand picked him, or the unknown circumstances of his orphanage - if he was truly an orphan -, or how long the Sorting Hat took to Sort.
Professor Hawes, the flying instructor and broom sports coach, released the Snitch, Quaffle, and two Bludgers in the center of the field, officially starting the match. A flurry of action commenced as the two teams fought for the control of the Quaffle. Chasers collided, Bludgers flew, and somehow Lyla emerged from the chaos carrying the Quaffle and shooting off for the Slytherin hoops.
"Not ordinary," Myles finally said, he knew he was different from the rest of the students. Lyla's breakaway from the mess on the center of the field ended in a shot at the Slytherin posts that the Keeper, Vace, easily blocked. "But not extraordinary."
"We'll see," Cecilia responded, clearly unconvinced. Vace passed the Quaffle to one of the Chasers, and the Slytherin team advanced back towards. An avoided Bludger and attempted steal later, the Quaffle was in Al's hand as he neared the Gryffindor hoops. Whereas Lyla had tried to score, Al baited the Keeper towards the right and then fired a pass to his teammate, Vain, who scored on the leftmost hoop. Myles could almost make out the announcement of 'Slytherin Scores!' through the Mufiliato Charm.
"You said not to rely on it any interpretation of the prophecy, but do you have any ideas?" Myles asked. "I can't make heads or tails of it."
"I have a few ideas, but some of it is indecipherable," Cecilia said. "The first three lines were:"
'Twins born on darkest night
Split Red and Blue
At crossroads of Clock and Fate'
Cecilia's voice was unchanged as she recited the lines, but Myles could swear there was an echo of the haunting and chilling timbre that the prophecy had originally been given with.
"This is what I've been thinking," Cecilia said, and the rest of her words were marked by a questioning tone that showed she was unsure of everything she was saying. "Twins were born on the darkest night. The twins could be real twins or two unrelated people bound together by Fate, but the prophecy says they're the same age by saying they're twins and that they were born on the same night. The 'darkest' night probably has a literal and a metaphorical meaning, maybe a moonless night when something terrible was happening? In the next two lines, the twins were separated, this supports real twins because they can't be separated if they weren't together. Being separated by time, the Clock, and Fate, I don't know what to make of that line."
"But," Cecilia's train of thought paused and she looked Myles straight in the eyes. "The twins were separated into blue and red. We know that you're in the prophecy, and you wear a blue emblem everywhere you go. I'd bet you're the Blue Twin.
It seemed like a stretch to Myles. "I don't even have a twin, and Ravenclaw making me blue seems forced. I was Sorted into the House, not Split Blue at crossroads of Clock and Fate."
"When you described the Orphanage, you said…" Cecilia looked hesitant for a moment. "You said you had had someone there."
Myles shook his head, deliberately ignoring the feelings that rose up at Cecilia's words. "Livian was a friend. She could be my sister, we look a bit alike, but she's a year older than me."
"I don't know then," Cecilia sighed. "I've read prophecies before, and this one makes even less sense than those. And it's clearly only half a prophecy, I could feel something torn and incomplete when it channeled and the first three lines have nothing to do with the last three lines: the Red and Blue twins have nothing to do with the Crystal and Gatekeeper in the half we have."
This was, Myles thought, even worse than the riddle he'd failed to solve the night before. "The other half of the prophecy, who did that go to? The Red or Blue twin, if I'm not the Blue twin, or the Gatekeeper?"
"The primary subjects of a prophecy are almost always described in the first lines, and Fate almost always issues a prophecy that directly affects it's primary subjects. The more I think about it, the more I'm convinced you have to be the Blue or Red twin and that whoever heard the other half of the prophecy is the other twin. We don't know anything about your birth, it's entirely possible that you were born a twin and separated from them. It's the only interpretation I can guess at."
Slytherin was up 30-0 now, their dominant backline of Beaters and Keeper allowed their four man offense to play extremely aggressive, confident any breakaways would be stopped. The Slytherin Chaser, Vace, received a pass and took a shot on the Gryffindor goal. The Gryffindor Keeper moved for the save but Lyla, a blur of speed in the air, intercepted the Quaffle. She caught it against her ribs in a collision that would doubtlessly bruise and surprised both the Gryffindor Keeper and the Slytherin Chaser. The muffled shout of the announcers was audible though the Mufiliato Charm as Lyla continued her momentum towards the Slytherin posts. She shot past the rest of the Chasers, effortlessly rolling around a Bludger.
The rest of the Chasers and Beaters pivoted on their brooms and began flying back to the Slytherin side of the pitch. If Myles knew more about Quidditch he was sure he could've made better sense of what happened next. Lyla attacked the Slytherin posts at an angle, and Myles was sure she was going to take a shot. Her arm, however, continued too far in it's throw and instead the Quaffle went straight down. It flew straight into the waiting arm of the Gryffindor captain, Croft, who beamed it hard towards the other side of the posts. For a moment, it looked like there wouldn't be anyone to catch it, but Croft had timed her pass perfectly for Dominique Weasley, who caught and fired the Quaffle almost in one motion. The Slytherin Keeper made an impressive effort on the save, but he was too late to recover from the feint and pair of passes.
The scoreboard moved to 30-10 amidst the muffled announcements and cheers.
If Cecilia was right, Myles thought, there was a stranger somewhere in the world, one who might even be his twin by birth, linked to him by Fate. None of the children at the Orphanage remembered their parents, but some of them had fantasized about having loving parents somewhere in the world outside and had hoped that they would take them from the Orphanage one day. It never happened. Livian had taught Myles to abandon that fantasy years ago, and he'd seldom thought of his parents since. But now it seemed he might truly have family somewhere. Was his twin with their parents or were they just as alone as Myles?
He noticed Cecilia eying him, concern on her face, and realized that that wasn't true; Myles wasn't alone. He was different than the rest of the Hogwarts students, but he wasn't an outcast like he'd been in the Orphanage. Myles was accepted here, he had friends: Lyla, who was best described by extremely Gryffindor, Rose and Kory, who might not be speaking to him right now but shared his passion for books, and Cecilia, a girl far more mysterious and knowledgeable than any first-year had a right to be.
A thought occurred to him, one that would've the been obvious to other first-years that were used to having reliable authority figures. "Why don't we bring this to a Professor? They should know what to do."
Cecilia shook her head. "The professors are used to dealing with bullies or students that are struggling to learn, but prophecies? Not so much. If half the stories about him are true, then Professor Salem might be able to help. But there's a saying at Hogwarts: 'Never trust the Defence Professor.' We're best off keeping it to ourselves. For now, at least."
Myles wondered if that was the real reason, or if Cecilia simply wanted to keep her secrets, but he didn't argue. Before he'd met Ms. Lenore the only adult he'd known in his life was the Caretaker; he didn't, couldn't, care for authority figures the same way someone like Rose did.
He thought about the prophecy, about what Cecilia had said about him, while the Quidditch match unfolded below. They settled into the comfortable silence held only by close friends, eventually canceling the muffling charm and letting the cheers of the crowd and the voices of the announcers wash over them. Their conversation wasn't over, but the rest of Myles's questions had no clear questions and he needed time to mule over the mess Cecilia had dumped in front of him.
After a few minutes, however, the revelations that Cecilia was a seer and that he might very well be involved in a prophecy slipped from his head in favor of watching the Quidditch match below. It was as if these matters of grave importance were too big for his head to hold onto, escaping his mind's grasp like a Quaffle might slip out of a toddler's hands.
Myles caught a whizzing flicker of gold out of the corner of his eyes and the rest of his attention was caught; the Slytherin and Gryffindor Seekers had spotted it too.