Chapter 18: The Hall of Prophecies

It was a warmer, sunnier day in Scotland than most, only a few white puffy clouds drifting lazily in the sky above Hogwarts castle. It was a fine day to send off the students from the two visiting schools now that the Tri-wizard Tournament had ended and the school year was coming to a close. The grand, powder blue carriage that the Beaxbatons Academy staff and students had arrived in was back in front of the Hogwarts school entrance, the twelve Abraxan flying horses which were to pull the magical conveyance standing in a line out in front of the conveyance. Out in the Black Lake, the Durmstrang ship stood tall and proud, prepared for its students to re-board her and return home.

The contingent from the French school once again stood in two lines, dressed impeccably in their periwinkle blue suits and skirts and smartly shaped flower hats curved upwards to a point. They were the image of haute coutere in wizarding school uniforms that would have fit in well at a fashion show. At their head stood Olympe Maxime, towering over two feet above all around, yet still somehow managing to appear dainty and refined, holding her hand out to the Hogwarts Headmaster as he led her up the steps to the Hogwarts entrance for the farewell address.

"Once again, I would like to thank Madame Maxime for all of her support and the participation of Beauxbatons Academy of Magic," Dumbledore said from just beside the Headmaster of the French school, "and once again congratulate Fleur Delacour on winning the 125th Triwizard Tournament!"

At this, everyone assembled, which was all the students and faculty of Hogwarts along with the staff of Durmstrang and their students and those Beauxbatons who had attended this year, applauded the winner vigorously. For her part, the blond held the Tri-Wizard trophy up for everyone to get a good view for a moment.

"I can't believe she won the tournament. I thought for sure Cedric was going to take it, or maybe Krum," Ron whispered to Hermione.

There were a number of whispers from among the rest of the Hogwarts student body, too. There were a few grumbles of "we would have won it if Potter had stayed in the tournament," here and there, though not among the Slytherins.

Ever since the Third Task, there had been some quiet complaints that Harry had let the school down by not competing, but the few times anyone said anything like that aloud near Harry, the Boy-Who-Lived had very publicly called them out on their hypocrisy, reminding them how they had acted during the selection at the Goblet of Fire, before scoffing at them and walking away. With Harry being in the news for overpowering Death Eaters, nobody dared take it any further.

"Well, Ron, Cedric and your Hungarian hero did decide to duel each other at the start of the Maze, otherwise one of them might have had a chance at winning. But, of course, a witch would be smarter than that." Ron didn't have a comeback for that and could only grumble a the outcome.

"Today, as we say goodbye, we acknowledge the important truth: though we may come from different places, wear different clothing, and speak in different tongues that our hearts beat as one. The bonds of friendship we made this year will be more important than ever. Dark times are coming, as assuredly and inevitably as this farewell. But if we hold on to what binds us together we will be stronger than any challenge we will face.

"Look to our champions for their examples: To Fleur Delacour, not only for her immense skill and talent as a witch, but also for her perseverance. She entered the final task in last place, yet was undaunted by the disadvantage she faced, used her wits and courage to brave the final challenge to be the first to lift the Triwizard Cup. We can all look to her shining example when it appears that the troubles we will face are too many and too trying.

"Look to Viktor Krum, for his strength and daring, who demonstrated excellence and a true spirit of self-determination in every task. Look to Cedric Diggory, who despite finishing third, demonstrated sportsmanship and a shared camaraderie which served him and his school throughout the competition. They remind us to look first to ourselves and to use all the strength and talent within ourselves, and yet then to look outward and join our strengths and talents to others to overcome obstacles that would otherwise daunt us.

"And last, but not least," Dumbledore finished, "look to Harry Potter, who was entered into the tournament against his will and was forced to compete in a deadly task. He reminds us that we may not ask for the troubles that will come or for the danger we will face, but when challenges give us no choice, for us to fight to the best of our abilities. And yet, I would be remiss not to mention that while Harry, in the spirit of good sportsmanship withdrew his name from the tournament after meeting the requirements of the magical contract, at other times Mr. Potter has willingly risked himself to stand up for what is right.

"There may be times when you are faced with trials you did not ask for. When that time comes, look to Harry's example of how to handle such a crisis. And there may be times when you have the option to avoid danger. There, too, I would recommend the example of The-Boy-Who-Lived. Harry wisely stepped away from the Tri-wizard Tournament tasks, a danger he had no need to face at his young age, despite being better qualified for such tasks than many grown wizards. He did not let pride drag him down. However, when darkness rose again, when an evil dark wizard rose once more to threaten us all, Harry did not hesitate to join together with those opposing Voldemort. So, dear students and dear friends, do you the same: be wise, yet be brave when the time calls for it."

Harry clearly blushed at the Headmaster's praise.

"Now, I'm afraid that the time has come for us to say goodbye to one another," Dumbledore said. "Madame Maxime, if you will, please lead your students to your carriage."

The students from the French school began to parade forward towards their carriage as Dumbledore and nearby students wished them all well.

"I can't believe Harry gets sit up there with the teachers and the other champions," Ron griped beside Hermione, straining to see over the crowd of students who were all rushing up to wish the departing students goodbye.

"Well, Ronald, after you get your name thrown in the Goblet of Fire and then fight a dragon, you can be up there, too," Hermione retorted.

As the students passed by the assembled teachers on the steps, Fleur and the others shook hands with the Durmstrang and Hogwarts staff as well as the other champions. When Fleur got to Harry, however, instead of taking his outstretched hand, she grabbed his head and planted a long kiss on his lips. Then she marched on towards the carriage, only stopping at the end to throw a wink back towards the stunned wizard before disappearing into the carriage.

"I can't believe Harry got to kiss Fleur Delacour!" Ron exclaimed loud enough for everyone around him to hear.

Hermione could only gape, before agreeing with Ron. With a series of whinnies, the fine flying horses lifted the carriage into the sky to the sounds of cheers from the Hogwarts students.

And then it was Durmstrang's turn to depart. At the head of the procession was the deputy head of Durmstrang Institute, followed by Viktor Krum. Igor Karkaroff, the head teacher, had vanished shortly after Voldemort's return.

As Krum approached Harry, Harry held out his hand. "If you try what Fleur did, I'll hex you," Harry said in jest.

With a smile, Viktor took Harry's hand. "Then I vill be careful, Harry Potter. I vould like to meet you on a broomstick on de Quidditch Pitch someday."

"Likewise," Harry said with a smile. The two had spoken a few times since the first task and had a healthy respect for one another.

With that, the line of students moved on, some of the Durmstrang students making polite, respectful comments to Harry, though most simply shook his hand and moved on. Soon, the entire contingent was marching onto the lake and boarding the ship.

And then they were gone.

Weasley Seer

Ron Weasley stood nervously in front of the stone gargoyle leading up to the Headmaster's office. Over the years he only had cause to step foot in that office a few times, usually after an incredible and near life-ending adventure-which didn't diminish the trepidation he felt at the impending meeting. Nor was it comforting to receive a tersely worded "invitation" to meet with the Headmaster instead of preparing to leave on the Hogwarts Express like the rest of the students.

After a few minutes of anxious pacing, the sound of footsteps approaching took Ron's attention off of the statue in front of him. To Ron's relief, the person arriving was not Headmaster Dumbledore, but was actually Harry instead. To Ron's surprise, his friend was not dressed in standard Hogwarts student robes. Instead, he was dressed in a set of formal robes that looked like something he had seen from the Ministry of Magic.

"Harry!" Ron called out to his friend. "So, you're coming to the meeting, too? Well, that's a relief, I thought I might have been in trouble for something. And what are you wearing?"

Harry smiled. "Official Ministry robes," he confirmed. "Part of the ICW stuff I do with the Headmaster."

Ron frowned a second, not quite liking that Harry had such a thing while still just a student. Trying not to let his jealousy get the better of him, Ron redirected his attention to looking about the castle. The hallway in front of the entrance to the Headmaster's office was empty save for a few lit torches.

Shaking off his negativity, Ron regarded his friend and turned his attention to a lighter subject than why Harry had a ministry uniform. "So…you and Fleur, huh?"

Harry went red in the face. "No, it's not like that. She…I…"

Ron's eyebrows shot up. "It sure looked like it was 'like that' to me," he said with a grin. "Harry, you dog, you've got to tell me all about it."

Harry sucked in his breath, but then let it out, "Alright, Ron, but after the meeting, okay?" That at least would buy him some time to figure out how to tell his best friend about it.

"Sure, sure. So, what's this about, Harry? Do you know?"

At this, Harry nodded. "Yeah. It's sort of about that secret matter I was telling you about. I talked to Dumbledore and we agreed we should let you know more."

Ron nodded, but then a frown found its way on his face once again. "Er, thanks, Harry. But…are you sure we shouldn't let Hermione know?"

"Let me know what?" Hermione's voice asked from behind the two. Ron jumped at her sudden appearance.

"Blimey, Hermione! You gotta start making noise when you come up behind people like that!" Ron panicked for a second, trying to think of something to say.

"It's alright, Ron. Actually, Hermione is coming with us to the meeting. I convinced Dumbledore that it's really best if she's informed about this, too," Harry replied. "So, are you ready to go up?"

Ron shot Harry a surprised look. "Go up? How?"

Hermione rolled her eyes before saying, "Liquorice Wands," and marching up the stairs as the stone statue jumped out of the way to reveal a spiralling staircase leading upwards.

"Oh! So that's what that part of the note meant! I thought I was supposed to bring some for the Headmaster!" Ron said as he hit himself on the head.

Weasley Seer

The Headmaster greeted the trio warmly before leading them directly over to his fireplace. "I'm afraid there is little time for pleasantries. Our window of opportunity for this excursion is necessarily short."

"Wait, where are we going?" Ron asked, a worried look on his face.

"To the Ministry of Magic, the Department of Mysteries, to be exact," the Headmaster said, then with a reassuring nod towards Ron added, "Do not worry, Mr. Weasley. Your parents have been apprised of this end of term field trip, as have yours, Miss Granger. They will be expecting you to return home a little later in the afternoon."

With that, the Headmaster threw a pinch of Floo-powder into the fireplace and spoke a word the children were unable to distinguish. "Now, follow after me, quickly. This Floo connection will take us directly to the main floor of the Ministry." Dumbledore called out the destination, stepped into the flames, and disappeared. Harry didn't hesitate, quickly stepping behind the Headmaster and repeating the destination.

Ron gave Hermione a brief, uncertain look, so the witch took the initiative and stepped into the fireplace next. The youngest Weasley boy followed behind, no other choice except to stay behind and seem like a fool.

When Ron stepped out, it was to find Dumbledore already turning to lead the pair who had emerged before him down the highly polished dark wood floor. This wasn't Ron's first time in the Ministry Atrium, having visited at times with his parents due to his father's work, so he was not awed by the grandiose sights. Hermione, on the other hand, was looking all about her, taking in the high peacock-blue domed ceiling, trying to make out the golden symbols that seemed to float across its surface. However, when she came to the marble statues of the Fountain of Magical Brethren, a frown found its way onto her face, especially when she noticed the depiction of the house elf. The display was as fine of a display of wizarding arrogance as it was of artistry.

She didn't have time to get fully worked up, as Dumbledore quickly led the trio up to the security desk that sat before the elevators. Dumbledore produced a ministry ID, a kindly smile on his face. "Here on official business today, Eric," he said before indicating the trio behind him. "These three will be with me."

"Alright then, Chief Warlock, sir," the guard replied deferentially, "I'll just need their wands for identification."

Harry, was the first up to the counter, but rather than pulling out his wand, he instead pulled out his own ministry ID and his Obliviator's license. "Hello there, sir. I was told I should present these instead of my wand when going through security."

The security guard's eyes went wide as he examined the documents. "Well, if that don't beat all! I didn't realize Harry Potter was doing an internship with the Obliviator's department!" The man handed Harry's identification back to him, bobbing his head with a grin on his face. "A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Potter, sir! I'm Eric, Eric Munch."

Harry took the man's hand and shook it. "A pleasure to meet you as well, sir."

Ron and Hermione presented their wands, which the guard took and examined before handing them back and giving them a visitor's pass. "As you'll be with the Chief Warlock, your passes will be valid for all levels and departments, so long as you are with Professor Dumbledore," Munch said in a serious tone. "So, don't wander off, or your pass will be invalidated."

That taken care of, Dumbledore took the children to the nearest lift which took them down one level. When they stepped out, they found themselves in a long dark hallway with only dull-burning torches for illumination.

Hermione, seeing the torches and the long hallway with no doors along the corridors and black tiles on the walls and floor, whispered to Harry. "Doesn't this remind you of that scene from the Wizard of Oz?"

"No idea," Harry whispered back. "Uncle Vernon would never let me watch that in a million years. What was it like?"

Hermione huffed a bit at Harry's ill-treatment, but responded quickly, "Well, pretty inaccurate. Witches got killed if you threw water on them. But this part…looks a lot like the scene where they meet the wizard for the first time."

Ron shook his head. "Bet my dad would love to see that movie. Think it would probably be a good addition to Muggle Studies?"

It was at that moment that Dumbledore whispered, "Lions, and tigers, and bears. Oh my."

"Professor Dumbledore!" Hermione exclaimed. "You've seen the Wizard of Oz?"

Dumbledore smiled, "Oh yes, and read the books. L. Frank Baum. I was curious to know if he was a wizard who had defied the International Statute of Secrecy. However, that turned out not to be true. But I agree, there is quite the resemblance here." The discussion ended as the group came to the end of the hallway where a single black door stood. Beside it, a man in a grey robe stood, unnoticed until then.

"Now, then," Dumbledore said. "I'm sure you are wondering why I brought you to the Ministry of Magic, and specifically to the Department of Mysteries."

Ron nodded while Hermione simply stood, waiting.

"Unfortunately, I cannot tell you what this is about, other than that it is to reveal a Mystery, until you swear an oath that you will not speak of it." Before either of the two could agree, Dumbledore held out his hand to forestall them. "Think carefully before you answer. What you are about to do is to give an Unspeakable Oath. It is one of the most powerful vows known to the Ministry. Once you take the oath you will sacrifice your will to speak about what you witness in the Department of Mysteries. Even if you wanted to, even if speaking of it was the only way to save your life or someone else's, you would be unable to do so."

It took only a few seconds for the two to decide.

The grey robed man held out a parchment and a blue feathered quill. "Repeat the following: 'I, state your name, promise not to speak of, write about, or any way communicate with anyone whatsoever is learned or experienced inside the rooms of the Department of Mysteries, by my will, so mote it be,' then sign your name with the quill."

Ron and then Hermione both took the oath, immediately feeling as if something tightened around their throat, before the sensation vanished. The man was prepared to administer the Unspeakable Oath to Harry, but Dumbledore raised his hand. "Harry is exempted from the Oath by virtue of being a provisional ICW member."

The cloaked figure seemed surprised, but then shrugged his shoulders. "You're the Supreme Mugwump." Harry noted the man's voice. Obviously an ICW member.

And then Dumbledore led them into the next door, which was a round chamber with doors spaced all around. The Headmaster took a quick look, as if getting his bearings, before saying, "Ah, this one," and then walked over to open one of the doors.

Ron, Hermione, and Harry followed Albus Dumbledore into the chamber beyond. What they saw when they arrived was not what they were expecting.

Immediately upon walking in, the trio felt immediately chilled, Hermione wrapping her arms around herself. There were rows upon rows of shelves that rose up two and a half storeys high and stretching out along the walls. It was a strange sort of storage facility.

"Welcome to the Hall of Prophecy," Dumbledore stated calmly.

"These…" Harry said, looking at all the glass balls on the shelves, "these are all prophesies?"

"Collected over thousands of years from across the world, yes," Dumbledore replied.

"But…how? And….why?" Harry asked, his mind trying to make sense of the chamber.

"The how is simple: Once a person has been identified as a seer, or is born within three generations in the lineage of a seer, a Taboo is set upon them that records anything they say of a predictive of prophetic nature. The nature of the prediction, the subjects, and eventually the results of the predictions are recorded here. The why is a more complicated issue, best left to discuss another day," Dumbledore answered pointedly.

Hermione looked in wonder at the various glass balls on display. "So, I could just look at any of these prophecies and see whether they came true or not?" she asked skeptically.

Dumbledore nodded, "Yes, if a prophecy were properly removed from their place, you would be able to hear the prediction. However," Dumbledore said sternly catching Ron's attention before he reached out to grab one, "you cannot just take a prophecy. They are protected by powerful curses which would make successfully retrieving one nearly impossible, unless you were the seer who gave a prophecy, the subject of the prophecy, or the Chief Warlock with the consent of the Wizengamot. Anyone else attempting to retrieve a prophecy would find themselves in St. Mungo's—if they were lucky."

Ron quickly pulled his hand back from the orb which he was about to grasp. "You might want to have said something about that before we stepped in here," here muttered to himself.

"If we can't take any of these prophecies down," Hermione asked, "then why are we down here?"

At that, Dumbledore gestured towards them to follow, a twinkle in his eye. "Oh, but there are a few prophecies down here that some among you three could retrieve." And with that the wizened wizard led them towards the end of a row of shelves after which were many empty spaces. "Take a look," he said with a gesture.

There, sitting on the last row, were a dozen or so prophecies all bunched together on pedestals of varying colors. The trio inspected the group and found that they all had something in common. Ronald Weasley was listed as the seer.

Hermione was incredulous. "You can't be serious!"

"Oh, but he's not," Harry said without missing a beat, "that's my godfather."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean. And how many times will you repeat that stupid pun?"

Harry grinned, "I guess as many times as people use the word."

Ron picked up one of the glass orbs, only to hear his own voice speak: "Snape and Harry will get along when pigs fly." He set the orb back down on the crystal pedestal.

"She's right, mate," Ron said, a bit shocked at seeing the numerous glass balls in front of him. He had no idea that he had so many predictions, nor that they were recorded anywhere. "There's been some kind of mistake. I…I can't really be…a seer."

It was at this point that Dumbledore shook his head. "No, I'm afraid there is no mistake. Three verified true prophecies," he said, pointing to three prophecy balls on crystal pedestals lined in silver, "and nearly a dozen fulfilled predictions. That, my boy, makes you officially a seer both in Britain and internationally."

Hermione was looking at Ron, her face pale. Until this moment she hadn't given any real consideration that Ron might actually be a real seer. "I…I didn't think…"

Ron was equally mystified. "No, but…it's not like…I…I made it all up!" Ron blurted in the end, his face red.

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, I know you did."

Hermione and Ron looked at their Headmaster as if he'd morphed into the Sorting Hat.

"And that, my dears, is why you are learning this here in the Department of Mysteries instead of back in Hogwarts. The nature of prophecy is something that very few people, even many seers themselves, fully realize, and something that must remain secret, for obvious reasons." Dumbledore said. "When a seer makes a prediction, they exert a magical force that makes the conditions of the world conform to their prediction. It is a rare magic, and a subtle one, that a person either has the magical gift for, or does not.

"But Professor Trelawney…" Ron protested.

"Professor Trelawney teaches the Fatalistic Theory of Divinations, which is premised upon Fate being preordained and influencing the seer to either consciously or unconsciously speak of what must be—at least in certain realities. While this theory cannot be entirely discounted, I find the Deterministic Theory of Divinations, which is the Mystery which we are discussing here, to be more compatible with the experiences of many seers and diviners. Wouldn't you agree, Ron?"

Hermione blinked, then slowly repeated her understanding of what Dumbledore was saying. "So…Ron just says what he wants to happen, and it will happen?" It seemed too incredible, too impossible.

Dumbledore laughed kindly, "Essentially, but with a great many constraints and limitations. For one, the power of a true seer is not unlimited in either scope or number, quite the opposite, really. The power of a seer's prediction is affected by factors including how possible something is, the falsifiability paradox, conflict with free will, and several other complex factors."

Ron picked up another glass orb. This one had Harry's name on it. "The boy who destroyed the Dark Lord will fall. When the shadow of the dragon clouds the hallowed grounds then the flame will burn the last of the line of Potters and the Boy-Who-Lived be seen in the jaws of the beast."

Ron's eyes went wide, realizing the implication of that particular prediction being recorded. "You mean…that…it was really…"

Harry nodded. "You didn't know, Ron. You didn't really believe what you were saying. But, yeah, that was a real prophecy."

"Harry, if I knew," Ron pleaded, "I would never have…"

Harry walked over to his red-headed friend and put a hand on his shoulders. "I know, Ron. That's exactly why I forgave you."

Ron rubbed his jaw. "And why you slugged me."

"That, too," Harry said. "Dumbledore explained the danger to me."

"Merlin, Harry, you're a great friend, and I'm an even bigger prat than I had thought."

Dumbledore carefully watched Harry's young friends process the information. It was a delicate thing, giving out part of the truth like this. In the worst case he would have to obliviate them, but he hoped that Harry was right and that they could handle it. It was Hermione Granger the Headmaster was most concerned with.

The witch was looking around, a frown on her face. "Why me?" she asked, suddenly.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"I understand why you are telling Ron, and why you had to tell Harry after Ron's prophecy, but why are you telling me about this? Why not let me go on thinking it was all rubbish?"

"Because, Miss Granger, your friend Harry has a lot of faith in you, as do I. Not only that, but in the coming war with Voldemort, Harry and I will need both Ron and your support, which was how Harry convinced me to include you in learning this Mystery," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling. "I'm sure a bright witch like you will be able to help Ron in utilizing his gift."

Hermione blushed.

Harry grinned. His friends would have a lot to think about, but they'd be their with him.

And Ron was definitely going to forget to ask him about the details about Fleur.