Chapter Eighty-Six: The Prophecy Revealed
It was odd, but fun, to be back at Grimmauld Place. Everyone was there — Fred and George had come over after a mysterious business meeting in Diagon Alley — and Sirius had attempted to get the place ready for Christmas after hearing of the attack on Dad, knowing that people would be staying there for the holidays.
"So you don't live here day-to-day?" Harry asked just before dinner.
Sirius shook his head. "Merlin's beard, no. I've got a small apartment on the other side of the city. It's not much, but everything's better than this."
"Well, now that it's been fixed up a bit it isn't so bad, is it?" Hermione asked.
"Hermione, the Dursleys have a nice home too. Doesn't mean I'd want to live there even if they were gone," Harry said.
Sirius nodded. "Exactly. There's just too many bad memories here. I'm only staying here because you are. Dumbledore thought I'd like to spend some time with you, so I don't have any assignments for the Order until you're back at school. Speaking of 'the Order'…" He lowered his voice. "How's your Order doing?"
Harry enthusiastically began to tell Sirius about their lessons, and Daphne smiled at Hermione, who smiled back. It was hard to believe that Harry had ever been reluctant about starting the Order at all.
"You should probably try some one-against-several duels, too, at some point. Not with the point to win the fight, necessarily, but to avoid getting hit," Sirius said.
Harry nodded. "It's something we plan on doing. We actually want to start Patronuses as well next term."
"Probably a smart move," Sirius said grimly. "Dumbledore is pretty worried about the Dementors ever since that attack on you and Daphne. He figures that if they haven't defected yet, they will soon. The more people who can protect themselves from them, the better."
"Anything else you think we should practice?" Daphne asked.
"It would likely pay to learn common jinxes and their counterjinxes. Plenty of people can cast a Jelly-Legs one someone, for instance, but they hardly ever bother to learn the proper counter and just cast Finite repeatedly to dispel it. In a fight, you don't want to lose any time, so if you know what you've been hit with you'll want to be able to dispel it efficiently, if you're able," Sirius said. "Of course, not getting hit in the first place is always best, but you're just not going to avoid it if you get into fights often enough."
At that moment, Mrs. Weasley called them in for dinner, and the conversation turned to regular, non-problem-related things, like Quidditch, and Daphne quickly zoned out.
Just after they'd finished eating, Dumbledore entered the dining room, followed by a witch with black, graying hair Daphne hadn't seen before.
"Good evening, everyone. If I might borrow Harry and Daphne for a few moments?" Dumbledore asked.
Harry and Daphne quickly got up and followed Dumbledore and the witch to the drawing room.
"Could you wait in the hallway for a moment, please, Elizabeth? It won't be long…"
The witch nodded. "Of course, Albus."
She left the drawing room and closed the door behind her.
"Professor Snape has told me that your Occlumency has reached the point where he feels that Voldemort won't be able to feed you false visions through your shared connection," Dumbledore said. "With your permission, I would like to verify that, after which I shall share the prophecy with you in its entirety. While Voldemort remains interested in the prophecy, I ask that you keep it to yourselves. Should he abandon his efforts or come out into the open for any reason, I will leave it up to your discretion what to do with the information. The same goes for all other information I will share with you, either tonight or at a later date."
Harry blinked. "Really?" he asked.
Dumbledore nodded gravely. "Being given trust and respect also means accepting the burden of the responsibility that comes with it, such as what information to share, and what to withhold. As you are now the leader of your own secret organization, it is more important than ever for you to be very conscious of what you share, and with whom."
Harry and Daphne exchanged a shocked look. "Did Sirius tell you, Professor?" Daphne asked.
"He did, as did Professor Snape," Dumbledore said.
"The Occlumency lessons," Harry realized, his eyes widening.
"Indeed. Rest assured that within Hogwarts, only Professor Snape and I are aware of your efforts. You are doing an admirable job of staying hidden. Should the climate at school become less hostile, I would like to learn more about how you are achieving this level of secrecy, but for the time being it's better for me to know as little as possible," Dumbledore said.
"You're not against it, then, sir?" Harry asked tentatively.
"Most certainly not, Harry. From what little I know of your group, students of all four Houses are working together toward a common goal. You are displaying exactly the sort of unity the wizarding world needs now more than ever.
"We are all facing difficult times, and being prepared can go a long way to keeping not only your fellow students, but also their unaffiliated friends and family safe. Sirius has a way for you to keep him informed of your activities or any problems, which Professor Umbridge will not be able to track. He shall share it with you before you return to Hogwarts. He will be able to advise you, should you require it.
"For my part, I'm merely proud that so many students are willing to take a stand for what is right. While I would prefer things like these to be above board, Cornelius sadly forces us into hiding, and we must all deal with that fact however we can.
"But before we get ahead of ourselves, Harry, do I have your permission to test your Occlumency?"
Harry quickly nodded, looking somewhat abashed at Dumbledore's support for the Order of the Lightning Bolt. It seemed that Dumbledore was indeed treating them not as children, but as fellow witches and wizards working against Voldemort, and Daphne, like Harry, felt strangely humbled by it.
Dumbledore locked eyes with Harry, and a few silent moments later, he smiled. "Very good. I see Professor Snape was indeed accurate in his assessment."
"So…you can tell me the prophecy, Professor?" Harry asked eagerly.
"Indeed. Once more, however, I would like to keep that information between the people in this room while Voldemort still seeks the prophecy and keeps himself hidden. It is solely that fixation that is keeping him form larger-scale action and is therefore our best weapon against him in the current political climate," Dumbledore said.
"I understand, sir," Harry said, and Dumbledore nodded.
"Good. Listen closely, then. This is the prophecy that Professor Trelawney made all those years ago: 'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…born to those who thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not…and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives…the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…'"
Dumbledore fell silent and looked at Harry, who had gone quite pale.
"I…have some kind of power Voldemort doesn't have?" he asked.
"You do," Dumbledore said. "But before you mistake this, Harry, you must understand that that particular line of the prophecy is literal."
"You know what the power is, then, sir?" Harry asked.
"Yes. It is something you possess in abundance, but which Voldemort does not and cannot feel. It is the power that broke his body the first time he attempted to kill you: love," Dumbledore said.
Harry blinked and exchanged a glance with Daphne, who shrugged. "Just…love?" Harry asked.
Dumbledore smiled a bit sadly. "For you, it might not seem like much. But love is the greatest, most terrible power in this world. Your mother's love for you enabled her sacrifice, and in turn protected you from Voldemort's curse. It was that same, lingering love that killed Professor Quirrell. It was love that made you, Daphne, and Ron descend into the Chamber of Secrets when Ginny had been taken there."
"It was also love that allowed Wormtail to rejoin Voldemort," Harry said. "Not for him, but for my parents, and for Sirius and Remus."
"Indeed, Harry, hence why it is also a terrible power. I maintain that your decision to let Wormtail live was the right one, though I know you do not see it this way. I also believe Voldemort, who cannot comprehend love even at its most basic, was foolish to use your blood, bearing Lily's sacrifice, for his resurrection."
"And the prophecy…is definitely about Harry?" Daphne asked.
"Initially, it was not," Dumbledore said. "But when Voldemort chose to go after Harry and cast his fateful spell, it became about him. The scar, and the resultant connection to Voldemort, is, I believe, the mark the prophecy speaks of."
"But there was someone else? Someone else who could have been…?" Harry asked.
"Could have been, before Voldemort made his choice," Dumbledore said again.
"Who was it?"
"Neville Longbottom," Dumbledore said.
Harry and Daphne exchanged a shocked look.
"Then…what made Voldemort decide…?"
"I presume that he saw himself in you, Harry. He himself is, of course, a half-blood, as are you. Despite his pureblood rhetoric — about which I don't believe he truly cares — he feared you more than the pureblooded Neville, and so chose to go after you."
"And now…now one of us must kill the other," Harry said glumly.
"Indeed, but answer me this, Harry: would you have felt any other way if you hadn't known about the prophecy?"
Harry slowly shook his head. "No," he said. "He killed my parents. I would want to be the one to take him down."
"Precisely. Many people feel as you do. He took loved ones from them, and they desire revenge, again showing just how dangerous love can be. You should also understand, then, that knowing the full prophecy would not enable Voldemort to defeat you. On the contrary, it should make him even more frightened of you, as he cannot conceive of a power he does not possess."
"But sir, if you know it refers to love…then why wouldn't Voldemort?" Daphne asked.
"Because he does not feel it. To him, it's a quaint, foolish feeling that has no power at all. He is simply not capable of grasping its subtleties. Your father can tell you how wrong he is, however.
"There is a room in the Department of Mysteries, which is always kept locked. It contains but a fraction of the true power of love, yet even that fraction was never adequately researched. Every now and then, attempts are made, but they are always abandoned quickly.
"By choosing to act on the prophecy, Voldemort has ensured that among his many enemies, there is one person uniquely equipped to fight him."
"But…I don't have uncommon skill or power at all," Harry said.
Dumbledore smiled. "And yet, Harry, you have faced Voldemort three times and lived, including one occasion where you were involved in a one-on-one duel against him."
"But I didn't win that duel on my own," Harry said.
"Didn't you? There was no one there in that graveyard to help you, Harry. Everything you did, including you overpowering Voldemort to trigger the Priori Incantatem, was done by you…and it was your bravery in the face of death, and the love of those whom Voldemort had killed, which allowed you to escape, going by the story you yourself told me," Dumbledore said.
"But if Voldemort had never heard the prophecy…would it still have happened?" Daphne wondered.
"I cannot answer that question, but perhaps my guest can. I'll go and let her in. I fear our conversation took a bit longer than planned…" Dumbledore said.
He walked over to the door and let in the witch who had been waiting in the hallway.
"My apologies for the wait, Elizabeth," Dumbledore said. "Harry, Daphne, this is Elizabeth Richards, a Seer and expert at mind magic. She has agreed to help you learn more about your gift, Daphne."
Daphne recognized the name at once. "You've written Seeing Beyond: Employing Mind Magic to Steer Divination, haven't you?" she asked excitedly.
Elizabeth smiled. "I have! You have read the book, then? If so, this conversation might be easier than I anticipated," she said.
"I've read bits of it. Or, well, talked to bits of it, I suppose," Daphne said. "I'm really impressed with the enchantment on it, by the way," she added.
Elizabeth smiled. "Thanks. It took me a long time to get it right…In any case, though, Professor Dumbledore told me you have some questions about to the veracity of your visions."
Daphne nodded. "I was wondering if they always come true, or if they can be avoided," she said.
"Well, the first thing to realize is that there are many kinds of Divination, each suited to different things," Elizabeth said. "Reading tea leaves, which many people start with, is mainly suited for relatively minor, everyday things, and isn't particularly precise in exactly when its events will occur, nor is it great at seeing the magnitude of those events.
"Palmistry is more precise, but is nearly useless to wizards and witches because it mostly foretells any physical ailments or natural longevity, which are generally easily amended by magic.
"Stargazing will only work for very large events, or people about whom at least one prophecy exists, like Mr. Potter, here."
Harry looked surprised, and Elizabeth smiled. "I'm unaware of its contents, but I do know the prophecy exists, as do the other people in the Order of the Phoenix, into which I've only recently been inducted."
She turned back to Daphne. "Your visions, however, come from a crystal ball. It is a more refined way of telling the future than many of the others, evolved from practices like fire-gazing and seeking patterns in hallucinogenic smoke. The enchantments on crystal balls make them uncommonly clear when it comes to Divination, and visions seen in them often come true."
Daphne didn't like the sound of that one bit, though of course, she'd already seen several of her visions coming true before. "But does it always happen? I heard that prophecies aren't always fulfilled…" she said.
"Prophecies are different still," Elizabeth said. "It's not clear why prophecies exist and why prophets receive them. They are always vague and open to interpretation, and even prophecies we believe to have been false or unfollowed may actually have come true, or may yet come to pass.
"It seems to be most common that they are made regarding events in the relatively near future, or at least events that can be influenced from the temporal — if not always spatial — location of the one receiving the prophecy, but either this isn't always true, or certain prophecies have been wholly misinterpreted.
"What a Seer observes in a crystal ball, however, is not prophecy, though the greatest weakness of such visions is that they still require interpretation to make sense. You might see an image of a candle burning, but the significance of that vision might not be apparent until the event it alludes to has already taken place."
"But if that's the case, then what is the point of the visions at all? How does it help to know the future if you can't affect it? What is the point of making choices if the future is already set in stone?" Daphne asked.
"It isn't set in stone. The visions you see in crystal balls can be averted," Elizabeth said, and Daphne felt a surge of hope. "It is, however, exceedingly difficult and often very emotionally demanding to do so.
"A famous — in Seer-circles — experiment has been done where multiple Seers were asked to gaze into a crystal ball to see the future of a person unknown to them. The Seers did not reveal their visions to one another, only to the experimenters, and they used a Pensieve to view the memories as clearly as possible.
"Unbeknownst to the Seers, the person whose future they were viewing had a terminal illness, and would be euthanized exactly one week after the session, and the week itself would be spent traveling to different locations all across the world.
"While all Seers, of course, saw the subject's death, they did not all see it in the same way. Each Seer saw different details of the moments beforehand. Some saw mainly images from the journey, some saw mainly the interactions with people, and one noticed mainly the flora of the exotic locations the subject was to travel to — and that turned out to be key.
"One of the experimenters was a qualified Healer, and by sheer luck spotted a herb, thought to be extinct, in that Seer's vision. The herb in question could be used to create a potion that would strongly and permanently diminish the symptoms of the subject's illness, to such a degree that other treatment would allow them to live out a full life.
"None of the Seers had seen the subject surviving, because it was exceedingly unlikely that they would… However, the subject did, in fact, survive, and is still alive now, as far as I am aware, despite this experiment taking place well over thirty years ago.
"It was a morally dubious experiment, not at all intended to help the subject, mainly to document the differences in Seer visions given a person whose future is known, but it turned out to be very important in the end.
"Subsequent experiments, however, showed just how difficult it is for a single Seer to change things they'd seen. They would have to repeatedly view the future of their subject, attempting to notice different things each time — utilizing a principle beyond even the focus in emptiness — and then painstakingly observe and analyze each detail of what they saw, and how it could be relevant in changing visions beyond that point.
"Going back to the first experiment, all Seers performed more viewings for that subject later, and all saw very different things, and none of them viewed far enough to see their death. To date, many of the visions have been verified, and the others might yet be. It certainly doesn't look like that person's future will be changed again.
"It would seem, then, that while visions in a crystal ball can be changed, the visions received are of the most likely future. Was all of that…understandable?"
Daphne nodded slowly.
"It almost sounds like Muggle science," Harry said. "I even pictured the experimenters wearing white lab coats…"
Elizabeth laughed. "That's not a coincidence. The person who came up with the experiment was Muggleborn and very keen on being able to reproduce results under the same setting. I believe his original hypothesis was that multiple readings of the same subject by the same Seer only a few hours at most apart would produce exactly the same or very similar visions."
"So…can I change the future I've seen?" Daphne asked.
"Only if you're willing to spend hours upon hours gazing into a crystal ball taking note of the faintest details that might conceivably give you access to relevant information. Simply saying, 'I just won't go to location X' is not going to cut it. The future you see in a crystal ball is the most likely future to occur. It's never the only option, but it is the most likely one."
"Then what's the point of it, if it's so hard to change?" Daphne asked in frustration.
"What's the point of any magic, or anything in general? It's just there, and some people are sensitive to seeing it. Most Seers I know just use crystal balls for self-reflection. They get together in a group, designate one of them as the subject — based on the experiment I told you about — view that person's future and then discuss what they've seen with the sole intention of finding out why they saw the exact images they saw, entirely ignoring the actual events in the visions. They do try to avoid seeing each other's deaths, as it's considered to be in bad taste."
"Besides, there is a point," Harry said. "Your visions helped me through the Triwizard Tournament, and helped confirm, before it ever happened, that Voldemort would return."
Elizabeth shivered at the name. "And knowing what will happen allows you to make preparations as well, if the image is clear enough. Divination is as useful or useless as you decide to make it. Only prophecies are meant to be heard by someone, the rest…well, most Seers never go beyond their first knack and use that as a cheap parlor trick for friends, like reading tea leaves or palmistry. There's a reason those things are usually taught first to beginning Seers," she said.
"What about making sarcastic remarks that come true?" Daphne asked.
"Also quite common, actually, yet not often taught. Divination has a poor reputation already, and many Seers don't want to damage that further by literally teaching people sarcasm," Elizabeth said with a smile.
In spite of herself, Daphne grinned.
"You have a copy of my book, right?" Elizabeth asked, and Daphne nodded. "If you bring it to me, I will add the knowledge I've gained since writing it to it, so you'll be able to ask it any questions you might not have thought to ask — or did not want to ask with anyone else present," Elizabeth said.
"That would be great! I'll go and get the book…" Daphne quickly retrieved the book from her room and returned to the drawing room.
"Ah, it's been concealed," Elizabeth said, and Daphne realized it still looked like a Potions book.
Elizabeth, however, simply cast a Revelio on it without a second thought. "Half the books in my office carry enchantments like this, and some have multiple," she said by way of explanation. "Not that most people are interested in these particular branches of magic, but still."
She tapped the book with her wand and muttered, "Incrementum Compendio!"
Daphne saw the book getting a bit thicker as several chapters were added to it.
"There, that should do it."
"Did you write the entire book like that?" Daphne asked.
Elizabeth shook her head. "No. Just now I merely added the notes and research I've done since to the book as appendices. The enchantment on the book contains enough 'intelligence' to interpret and explain it to you — or any future owners of the book."
"My…friend is worried that the book might be capable of possessing me. She's here too, so could you perhaps explain to her how the enchantment on it works? I don't want her to be worried every time I read the book," Daphne said. She'd almost slipped up and called Ginny her girlfriend, and it had only been less than a week.
"Sure. It is a pretty uncommon enchantment, so I don't blame her for finding it odd. It uses Legilimency which is applied through the very same mechanism that allows Divination to work, combined with a particularly complex modified Paraphrasing Charm, which you'd also find on things like Quick-Quotes Quills. As far as I know, I'm the one who invented the technique to combine all of those things. I'm rather proud of it, even though it's only useful to a handful of people," Elizabeth said.
"You were always good at Charms, Elizabeth. I daresay you might almost rival Filius," Dumbledore said.
"My area of expertise is a bit narrower, but it was my favorite subject, yes," Elizabeth said with a hint of pride. "If that was all, however, I should be going. I will talk to your friend first, of course, and explain my enchantment to her as well. If you have any other classes and find that Pythia — I presume — can't answer them, you may always owl me."
"How did you know that that's the name I use for the book?" Daphne asked.
"Because that name is mentioned in the book, you're a girl, and the enchantment is incapable of original thought. If you were a boy it would have suggested Apollo, as Pythia was a priestess at his temple.
"Fun fact: your name, Daphne, is also connected to Apollo. She was a nymph with whom Apollo was infatuated, but she wasn't interested, and to escape from him her father transformed her into a laurel tree. Apollo then began to revere laurel, and laurel wreaths as a symbol of victory were first used in his honor at the Pythian Games. Maybe being a Seer was your destiny…"
"I'm…not sure if I like the idea of destiny at all," Daphne said uncomfortably.
Elizabeth shrugged. "Well, if it comforts you, we've never been able to discover if destiny exists. It was thought visions in crystal balls were certain, but, as I explained, they're not."
Daphne smiled at the reassurance. "Thank you for the help, in any case," she said.
"My pleasure," Elizabeth said with a smile.
"And Professor, thank you for bringing Elizabeth here to talk to me," Daphne said, now turning to Dumbledore.
"Not at all, I found the conversation most enlightening, and am thrilled to once again discover that a person never stops learning," Dumbledore said with a smile. "Now, I'm sure that your friends will be wondering what we've been talking about. Let's not keep them in the dark any longer. Since you will be spending the holidays here, I wish you both a Merry Christmas, and may the next year bring us good fortune."
He and Elizabeth left the drawing room, leaving Harry and Daphne by themselves.
"So…what do you want to do about your visions?" Harry asked. "Do you want to get a crystal ball from somewhere and analyze what you see, or…?"
Daphne thought for a moment, but then she shook her head. "No. All that matters to me is that we can change the future. I…I don't want to see that vision anymore. Once I can shift my focus in emptiness…I don't know what I'll actually do.
"I'm sure I'll find a way of using my Divination to help, but…I'm not going to look into a crystal ball and hope for the best. I…I don't want to see anyone else dying. We're facing a war. In some ways, we're already in one. You told me what happened to some of the previous members of the Order of the Phoenix. Everyone knows what happened to your parents, and they weren't the only ones. It's almost inevitable that people who are with us now will die, and I don't want to know who that will be. I…I know it's selfish, but–"
Harry silenced her by pulling her into a tight hug. "It's not selfish," he said. "I wouldn't want to know, either. I'd spend all my time trying to stop them from dying, and I'd either drive myself mad, get myself killed as well, or allow other people to get hurt because I'm trying to save someone whose death I've foreseen. I understand that you don't want to see those things, and I would never blame you for it. None of us would."
For a moment, they just stood there in silence. Then, Daphne took a deep breath and said, "Well…let's go talk to the others. Like Dumbledore said, I'm sure they'll be curious…"
A long chapter again. It's always easy to tell when I'm writing a chapter I'm having fun with when I write very long conversations with tangents of questionable usefulness. Although Daphne being destined to be a Seer might have some truth to it on a meta level; I began her sarcastic predictions as a joke and had her enroll in Divination as a joke too, but her name just happens to be connected to Apollo, whose temple was the seat of the Oracle of Delphi. I had no idea about any of that when I began to write this fic, and now it's suddenly become an important part of her character arc. Being a pantser is strangely serendipitous sometimes.