Disclaimers: Regular stuffs: I don't own anything you recognize and everything you don't.

Chapter 3: Old man and Prophecies

He was cold. He felt tired but sleep run away from him. With a start he woke up. He got up and looked around. He was in a circular room painted in soft grey. Upon closer inspection he noticed it was stones. He felt like a white veil was in front of his eyes. He tried to rub them but it didn't change anything. He turned around noticing two doors at one side and one opposite to them. There was a small table with bits of parchments, inks and quills. He also saw a fire place in activity. He walked close to it but there was no heat coming out of the flames. He noticed an armchair and a small table with tea and scones. He headed toward it. Just as he sat down he glanced in front of him. There was another armchair with an old man sat into it, staring at him with an amused smile.

The old man had shoulder length white hair and a goatee. He kept studying the old man who left him do so without interrupting. He wore a white dress with a leather belt. On the left hanged a long sword, on the right there was a pouch. Next to the old man there was a big walking stick with drawings. He narrowed his eyes trying to defer what it was. Even thought he didn't, he knew one thing: it was familiar.

The old man served them both tea, gave him one cup and asked:

"Do you like my staff?"

"It's a staff? I thought it was a walking stick" he replied.

"Well yes, it's also a walking stick, as much as a wand can be use as a slide rule, I guess. It's not its purpose but can be used for it" chuckled the old man.

"A wand?" he asked.

"Yes, a focus for you magic." Answered the old man; in front of his puzzled look he continued "Don't worry, you'll remember very soon. You've lost your memories. Your spirit is healing quite fast but it still takes time. Everything comes in time to those who know to wait. I should know about that."

'What do you mean?" he replied, drinking a bit a tea. It was hot, it was good. He felt it had been years since his last cup.

"I've waited for you a long time my boy." The old man merely answered.

"I knew someone who called me my boy…" he started but trailed off as he couldn't remember who it was "You've been waiting here? For me?"

"Yes, my boy."

"But why?" he asked bewildered, there was nothing in this room, how come the man could have waited more than a couple of days?

"Because of whom you are my boy. You are special."

"You must make a mistake, I'm just me, I'm not special." He answered.

"If you say so my boy. If you so say so."

"How long did you wait?" he asked.

"Oh, I don't know, I stopped counting after seven hundred seventy-seven years." Replied the old man with a smile playing on his lips.

"What? But you should be dead!"

"Oh, but I am my boy."

"Then I'm alone talking with a ghost." He translated.

"Oh no my boy. I am here so are you and I'm not a ghost, I'm still in between. I didn't move on but I didn't refuse either. You'll understand soon."

"What am I supposed to understand old man?"

"That we are both equals."

"You mean like I'm dead to? Trap between a ghost life or moving on?"

"Yes and no"

"Ok, that's it" he said, dropping his cup and getting up "Who are you? Where are we? What am I doing here?"

"Slowly my boy, slowly. One at a time, one at a time. You want to know who I am?"

He nodded.

"You want to know my name or what I am for you?" he asked stroking his beard.

"Both?"

"Bad answer my boy, how do you expect me to give you my name when you don't even remember your own?"

"I remember my name!"

"Do you now? And what it is your name my boy?"

"…"

"As I said, you don't even remember your own name. But fear not, you will" the old man gently explained.

"Okay. I don't know who I am. So who are you..." He asked. In front of the old man's gaze he quickly added "…to me?"

"I'm the seed of your tree."

"Come again?" he asked.

"Do you know if you made researches about your family tree during your life my boy?"

"I know I didn't."

"Well, I'm the reason for your family's existence."

"You mean to tell me we are related?" he replied.

"Oh no, my boy. We are not" the old man answered. "I'm merely the one who took the first step that lead to the existence of your family and then to your short but eventful life."

"Ok, I'm lost. I don't understand anything old man."

The old man paused several seconds. He was thinking furiously. He finally spoke.

"Let take a different approach. You know what is a prophecy, right?"

"Yes, I think maybe one was made about me, or was it a friend? I don't know any more… but I know what is a prophecy" he replied, still lost but a least able to participate in the discussion.

"One about you or a friend? Oh no my boy. That's the point. You are the recipient of at least half a dozen of past prophecies that you don't know and I don't even speak about the ones that were made since your conception, and don't even get me started on those to be made in the future. No my boy, you are the Child of Prophecies" continued the old man.

"Which means?" he asked.

"Which means that prophecies were made and remained made. The events never happened. Now, that's the point of a prophecy: it says what is going to happen, sometimes with different possible outcomes and often without being very clear, but it states what will come. What do you think happens when a prophecy isn't fulfilled?" demanded the old man.

"That it didn't happen?" he supplied.

"No! That's just it. What ever comes it will happen. And that is where you entered in the equation." the ancient stopped to let the worlds sink in. "As I said, I'm the seed to your tree, your family tree. I was the first one to make a prophecy which is still waiting for it fulfillment centuries after."

The old man stopped and looked at his interlocutor. The young man seemed to have a headache. He started to worry. Dead people weren't supposed to be hurt.

"Are you alright my boy?"

He looked up when he heard the voice full of concern. "Yes. I… I think I remember. I was a student… at Hogwarts."

"Yes you were my boy" came the gentle reply.

"Someone just died. A teacher I think. No! It was the headmaster! And then I… I died too, kill and betrayed by my best friend. How could that have happened? Nobody did a thing to stop it!"

"True, but be careful, not all the things you know are the truth. You'll have to remember more to understand fully. Let's carry on, shall we?"

He just nodded. This old man had a soothing effect on him.

"So, if a prophecy isn't fulfilled, basically nothing happens; it just waits to be. If two prophecies wait for fulfillment, it starts to be a bother. But went you have seven then there is too much magic around. It might create an explosion and destroy everything."

He stared stupidly at the old man. How come a little ball of glass could destroy anything but itself? That was the five-galleons-question.

"There is also another thing you should know my boy. It is impossible to make a prophecy which will happen after your death."

"But didn't you say that…" he trailed off, everything started to be very confusing to him.

"Wait for the answers my boy; I'm giving them to you. When you have the bad luck to do it, you have to wait: once you're dead you can't move on, you have to wait for the fulfillment of your prophecy. Then, and only then can you move on. That's why I've been waiting for you a long time my boy. Do you understand now?"

"Understand what?"

"What I am to you?" the old man supplied.

"Euh… No… Sorry."

"It's all right. I'll tell you. Five prophecies and five dead seers were waiting for their predictions to occur. It was the middle of the fourteenth century if I remember well. Anyway, when a sixth seer joined us, we understood we had to do something. We used the magic generated by these 'little balls' as you think of them and we created something. Do you have any idea what?"

"I'm afraid to understand" he replied dread filling his heart "You created my family?"

"In short, yes." Said the old man.

He just stared at the ancient. The guy was simply telling him he had just created him, like a sculpture.

"What the fuck? I'm your sciences' project? Your… your pet!" He managed to scream.

"No, no my boy, you are…"

"DON'T YOU DARE CALLING ME MY BOY AGAIN OLD FOOL! SAY WHAT YOU HAVE TO SAY AND LEAVE!"

"But that's the point. I'm not leaving, you are."

"What?" He was lost. He was dead, harsh but ok; his family had been created, difficult to deal with but it was done. Now he had to go somewhere?

The old man calmly said "You are the Child of Prophecies. You are made of magic. You are one of the most magical persons to ever walk on this land. Your task is to fulfill these predictions. We waited for seven centuries until all the requirements were met. It's a hard task and it's not really fair, but you'll gain from it."

"You'd better have something good up your sleeve because if you don't, dead or not I'll kill you… again." He said murderously.

"Yes, yes, you always had a problem with temper, especially when people insulted your family."

"Don't go there old man. Don't go there" he warned

"I'm sorry, you're right I shouldn't. Let's talk about the good point of being who you are should we?" the ancient asked and waited for his charge to agree. In front of a little nod he let loose a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"Each one of the seers tampered with wild magic when we made our unfulfilled prediction. As a punishment we have to wait for its realization and give a peace offering to the one who will have to do it, that is to say to you."

"What do you mean a peace offering?" he asked clearly intrigued.

"Well first we ensured you'll have money when you'll be back…"

"Back? Back where?"

"Oh, did I forgot to mention it? Your mind and body are healing while you are in this… ahem… let's say 'reality', then you're going back to the land of the livings exactly two seconds after you died."

"And be killed again? No, thank you. Once is enough." He replied sarcasm filling his words.

"No, you'll go anywhere you want. We'll create a new body for you. An identical copy of the one you had, except it will be healed and in perfect physical form."

"Okay, so in short I gain one apparition and a few muscles? Not that a great deal you know." He continued with a frown.

"Could you please listen?" said the old man clearly irritated, things weren't going as planned. "We ensured you'll have good finances and health, but that's the requirements for our 'champion'."

"I don't know if I want to be anyone's champion…" he said in a low voice. He clearly had a sense of déjà-vu.

"Well that's why each of us is going to give you some knowledge it would have taken you a lifetime to learn. You'll choose what you want to know, and we have had a lot of time to learn in seven centuries. It's a peace offering to give you one knowledge but it's a compensation for your 'temporary death' and the few hardships you'll face that we offer six others." The old man finished with a big smile which quickly faded when the young man answered:

"Can I just say no?"

"Well… Hum…"

"I feel I didn't use this right a lot of times in my life…" he just stated in a low voice.

"I'm sorry" answered sincerely the old man. "You're here because one of the prophecies said you'll have explanations and will gain knowledge from them. You can't walk away from it. But the good point is it only specifies your journey to one goal; and if you're lucky it won't take more than six months. What are six months compared to seven lives of knowledge?"

"Easy to say for a man who's a thousand years old" he sulked.

The old man just sat back in his chair. He had won, he knew it. He knew the Child of Prophecies would fulfill his destiny. He just had to wait for said child to accept it and to select the knowledge he wanted. He took his staff and made a motion with it. A fourth door appeared from nowhere and opened. Six persons came in, four women and two men. None of them said anything; they just lined themselves behind the old man's armchair and waited.

And waited. They started to show discomfort; maybe their spokesman had not been very convincing or maybe the Child refused his destiny. That wouldn't dwell very well for them. After all, he could commit suicide once back and they wouldn't have any resort…

He just sat silently, staring at them. He suddenly spoke.

"Did you know a friend and I managed to fight a Troll at eleven? The teachers were more scared of the unconscious thing that we were to battle it." He trailed off "I supposed I should have known at the time. The Golden Trio: the famous Harry Potter, the strategist Ron Weasley and the smart Hermione Granger. We were destined to great things. It finally appears we were just destined to die if I'm any example."

"Do you remember who you are?" asked softly one of the women.

"No. I supposed I'm not Hermione because I'm a guy so it leaves me with being either Ron or Harry. I don't know what I look like, just that Harry needed glasses and that I don't wear any; but still my body is supposed to be healing so I shouldn't need any, if I ever did. I also know I had a problem with my hair, but for the life – or should I say death – of me I can't remember if it was because of its color or hold. I know I played Quidditch at school but Ron was a seeker and Harry was a keeper. Or is it the other way around? Anyway, I still managed to narrow it to two persons." He calmly stated.

"Quite right my boy, quite r-"

"I ALREADY WARNED YOU OLD MAN!" he screamed interrupting the ancient. "Be careful, there won't be a third warning."

He looked to every person in the room. "I would like to know the content of these prophecies if you would be so kind". It wasn't a question and the seers knew it. They had known for ages this time would come and still dreaded it. Sighing the old man spoke first.

..ooOoo..

He just sat there. Stupidly staring at these seven 'spirits' if he had to call them anything. "And you just said six months old man? What the hell…? It's going to take me at least ten years, if not twenty, just to be in par with what you're asking of me!"

"You forget the knowledge" replied one of the two other men.

"Oh… Well… I guess I'll just have to see what you can offer me. I don't suppose I can take it all?" he asked hopefully. In front of the seven faces that met his eyes he knew he wouldn't.

"But how can I know what I'll require when I don't have my past experiences to help me choose?"

"Fear not young one," softly answered of the women "you'll know when you'll need to."

He found himself silenced. He knew he'd do it, even if it was only to see her again and be able to go out with her, but still…

"Should we carry on with the choice young man?" asked the third man. He was dressed in a heavy armor with weapons encircling his waist.

He merely nodded. The seven produced a piece of parchment. He couldn't help but laugh. The seven of them had bowed toward him producing their piece at the same time.

"I'm sure you practiced centuries just to get it right for now." He teased. "Congratulation, great coordination."

He bit back a laugh, plunged himself in his armchair and looked at the 'knowledge' offered to him like if he was picking from a menu. "You know. I would have loved to have that when I started Hogwarts, I would have had better grades."

"Knowledge is usually the reward of hard work" mysteriously replied the old man.

"What ever…" and he started his shopping as for him it was exactly than.

..ooOoo..

"What's the difference between 'magic focus' and 'wand making'?" he asked.

"Magic focus deals with staves, weapons, jewelry and such. Wand making has to do with obtaining the best match for the owner."

"But if you can sense the power pulling you to a component, can't you make a good match without wand making knowledge?" he asked again.

"Not everybody can feel such pulls"

..ooOoo..

"What the difference between 'Battle Occlumency' and 'Occlumency'?" he asked.

"Battle Occlumency hides your thoughts from the legilimens and helps you mislead them in thinking you're going to use another curse or hex. Occlumency shields your mind and, at the mastery level you'd acquire, helps you create perfect fake memories; it would even enable you to fool Veritaserum but you need concentration for that, you don't have it in a duel. In battle you can only protect and hide not create fake thoughts."

..ooOoo..

"What is the point of spell crafting? We already have so much at our disposition." He asked.

"Knowing the integrates parts of a spell enables you to cast it silently and without wand movement."

..ooOoo..

"Hum… Can I ask why Sex Magic is in this list?" he asked, pink tainting his cheeks.

"Well, I figured as you didn't have any experience in the field, you might want to have… Never mind"

..ooOoo..

"Battle knowledge? What does it entails?" He wondered. As usual, a voice answered the question as if it had been spoken aloud.

"You'll gain experience from hundreds of duels and battles, with explanations of what went right and wrong, why and how to correct if that's your desire."

..ooOoo..

"Potions and Herbiology, a single subject? Neville would have a heart attack…"

"It is required to know what plants you use in potion making."

"I WASN'T TALKING TO YOU! GET OUT OF MY HEAD!"

..ooOoo..

Finally, after what seamed like hours, or maybe days, to him, his choice was set.

"Old man?"

"Yes young insolent?"

"How do we proceed? I have made my choices…"He inquired.

"We'll give you an advanced version of a pensive. Once you'll touch the memories we'll have poured in it you'll gain the knowledge." The ancient explained. With a flick of his staff he produced a big stone basin, with intricate runes on it, he asked "What did you choose?"

"For starter, Legimency and Occlumency. Not the battle one, just the regular."

One of the women advanced and emptied a small vial with a silver substance in the basin. She stepped out of the group with a smile direct to the 'old man'.

"Mphh. What else?"

"Potions and Herbiology. I think I sucked at it. By the way does it include Dark ones?"

"Why? You want to make some?" replied the second man with a knowing smile.

"Just curious…" he replied

The man advanced with two vials. "One contains every plant and potion including Dark ones, the other only the 'nice' ones. Which one you'll have will depend of your other choices." He posed them in front of the pensive and moved to the side.

He nodded. That probably made sense but he didn't understand it.

"Right. Then I selected 'Sword' but I'm not sure I know what it includes…"

The man with the armor advanced holding his vial.

"It deals with crafting your own sword, but you'll need practice, even knowing how to do it right doesn't mean you'll manage it at your first try. It also includes taking care of your weapon, mending it, all the techniques of sword fencing and most importantly my own creation based on centuries of observations and studies: the dance of the wand." The man explained, finishing with a very proud and happy face that you hardly see anywhere but on the face of a three-years-old.

"The dance of the wand?"

"Yes, I have studied the movements and spells used in hundreds of fights and battles. I managed to create a dance were you have 68 less chances to be hit and 126 more to hit your opponent. In short, if you know it well and practiced it so much it became instinctive, you can kill, maim or just capture your enemies in the blink of an eye. Sweet no? So do you want it or not?"

He stared stupidly. "If I want it? Are you crazy? Of course I want it!"

With a smug expression the man emptied his vial in the pensive and joined the two others.

"Right… After this interlude" the old man paused and gave the armored one a pointed look "What's your next choice?"

"I didn't really know but I figured that Battle knowledge could be nice, especially with everything you gave me to do…" he stopped with a reproachful expression that would have scared more than one. Unfortunately for him, when you are several centuries old, it just doesn't work.

A woman stepped. She was holding a decanter. She emptied it in the basin and stepped to the side with the three other seers.

"Woa… That's a lot. I guess it was either a good choice or the most boring I could ever have made. Next I choose runes magic."

Another woman stepped holding a couple of vials, she emptied them and followed the others. There was still a woman and the old man.

"I took Magic focus."

The old man smiled and poured three vials in the basin. He said "You're lucky. You'll be able to do some mixes."

In front of his puzzled expression he just said "Hey kiddo, I'm a druid, I'm not supposed to be understood by everyone. Just know I don't lie. You'll understand. By the way you got this vial." The 'druid' emptied one of the two potion vials "You'll understand later why but we know we can safely transmit you the knowledge of the darkest and foulest potions of the world." The old man finished with a smile.

The last woman was looking at him. He grinned and said "I chose Animagi."

In front of her uncomfortable face he asked "What?"

"Well you don't have any animagus form dear. What about I give you Wards and shields?"

"But I want to know how to become an animagus. Even if I can't be one, I might be able to explain it to others…"

"The thing is it's not knowledge as in Potions, it's an ability; and you don't have it…" she explained. "I'm sorry but you can't have it. What about Ancient Laws? It's very interesting you know…"

"Are you having fun with me? Ancient Laws? What do you want me to do with that? I don't plan in becoming the next Minister of Magic. They are all corrupted people." He fumed. "What are the other choices?"

"You can have Literature, Music…" she started

"We don't have all day Lady. Why don't you skip directly to things I might choose?" he interrupted her.

"No need to be aggressive! Youth nowadays!" she complained. "What about Healing?"

"I have Potions and Herbiology."

"Hum… Apparition?"

"I all ready know how to do it, thank you very much"

"Sliding?"

"What is it?" he asked, his curiosity picked.

"It enables you to Apparate without sound even when there are wards to prevent it. The down side is that it doesn't work for long distances, but it is still useful in a duel" she explained.

He thought about it. Maybe it would be a good thing, still with the Dance of the wand it would hardly be necessary…

Seeing his hesitation the woman spoke. She knew she had to make him accept something from her or she'll be stuck in this reality while the others moved on.

"What about I give you 'Sliding' and 'Wards', they're linked anyway."

He looked at her, a bit amused but careful to hide it. Maybe she'll give him something else if he didn't agree directly.

"And 'Sex Magic' as a bonus for the deception about Animagi" she quickly added in front of his silent refusal.

"Deal."

She let loose her breath. He had agreed! She was going to die for good this time… She advanced to the pensive and emptied four vials.

"Come young man" invited him the pain in the ass, namely the old man or seer or druid or whatever he was.

He slowly made his way to the table. "By the way can I choose to be send a day after my death, just to be sure?"

The last woman quickly agreed. He bit a smile, she was desperate to get rid of him.

"And a cloak would be nice too…" he pushed.

"Get your hand in the pensive!" said the old man taking his arm and directing it to the table.

"You're a pain in the ass" he murmured before touching the silvery substance.

The last thing he heard was "Likewise my boy, likewise my boy.

..ooOoo..

He was falling.

Pain beyond belief cursed through his head. His brain was going to fry, he just knew it.

He opened his eyes. Everything was white, there was no form, nothing to refer to. He couldn't even see his own body.

He started to speak, faster and faster until he couldn't even understand the words. His mouth hardly managed to keep up with his mind.

His hands weren't responding either, they were moving like against an invisible enemy. He couldn't feel his legs.

He was starting to panic when everything stopped.

A light aching in his head was the only memory of the pain he just endured. He was standing in the middle of a street; a wizard street by the look of things. There were few shoppers; they hurried to the shops and left, none of them spared him a glance. It was probably lunch time as the only open restaurant was full.

Noticing he was wearing a cloak (thanks old lady) he closed it around him and started walking. He knew were he was going. They had said he had good finances, he wanted to check it. He remembered who he was and knew he should keep his hood up. After all it wouldn't be good for a dead man to meet someone he knew in the middle of Diagon Alley.

He entered the great white building that represented Wizarding finances: Gringotts. He waited at a counter and spoke a few words to the cashier. He was led through corridors to a big door (in a goblin's point of view). He stepped in the room and sat in a chair without waiting for the authorization. He looked at the goblin in front of him. When the door was closed he lowered his hood saying "How are things going my friend?"

Griphook smiled. "They are going very well for me thank you. You look quite fit for a dead wizard; care to explain your trick Mr. Potter?"

Thanks to those who reviewed. Please keep doing it.

Ideas welcome.

Don't worry and be reassured, Harry won't be Super but will become powerful enough through WORK.