Chapter 4: Cause and Effect
Something changed without warning.
Globally, universally, dimensionally: something changed.
Well, it sounds dramatic when it's put that way but the change wasn't really that big of a deal. Functionally, anyway. It was as if the world's equation had suddenly gained a new variable: all the pieces still operate the same way, there's just something new thrown into the mix. Except of course a changed equation will result in a changed solution.
So deep within the Ministry of Magic, deeper still within the Department of Mysteries, something changed.
Suddenly, inexplicably, seemingly randomly: something changed.
Before the event, an Unspeakable was cataloging prophecies: an altogether boring and pointless job. All she was doing was filling out a parchment with notes that such-and-such prophecy in such-and-such row was, in fact, still looking exactly like it had the last time she checked. It's not like she could read them, obviously: only the Keeper and those mentioned in the darn things could actually pick them up. That meant that most, if not all of the prophecies would never even be known before being fulfilled and falling dark. Not to mention that it was rare enough for any lit prophecy to even go dark. And rarer still for something actually interesting to happen.
"Let's see… row 32, third shelf, fifth prophecy." She pushed her pair of rectangular glasses farther up her nose, staring into the misty white depths of the prophecy with disinterest before scribbling down a few words that, in all likelihood, would never be read. "Present and accounted for."
It was then that the change occurred.
Silently and without fanfare, the dim white light of the prophecies—every lit prophecy—simply vanished.
For a long minute the Unspeakable just stared at the now-plain glass ball in front of her, blinking slowly and with great confusion. She took off her spectacles, cleaned them on her uniform, put them back on, and peered around herself. She looked down the length of the row, every shelf. She walked to the end of the row and looked down the length of the section she was in. But it seemed to be the same everywhere.
Every prophecy was just… gone.
The fulfilled prophecies still swirled with darkened mists, but every single one that had been lit just seconds before was now nothing more than an excessively large, plain paperweight.
"This…" As she slowly made her way toward the exit, too lost in thought to bother going faster, she continued checking each long row. There were no tell-tale lights on any shelf. To be honest, the Hall of Prophecy was spookily dark without the soft glow from the divinations. "This can not be a good sign."
But then, that's the thing about the future: it hardly ever seems to go as expected.
=X=X=X=
On the other side of the country, Albus Dumbledore was sitting at his desk.
His office was a spacious circular room filled with all manner of strange magics. The enchanted portraits of previous headmasters and headmistresses, currently dozing, covered the walls wherever the walls weren't already covered by bookshelves. Whirling silver baubles of all shapes and sizes filled the air with soft humming noises and the occasional puff of colored smoke. A fat, round one with a slight green tint was slowly rolling in a tight circle on his desk. It knocked into his favorite quill, so he distractedly poked the little thing away and set the quill on a tall stack of paperwork.
Things had become quite a bit more complicated recently.
Complicated and fraying from his tight control.
"Sirius Black," he murmured, voice soft and tired. Watching the green ball putter around in its circle for a moment, he added, "And of course Harry Potter."
It had been a mistake. He had known it was a mistake, almost immediately after he had let it happen those twelve years ago. Letting them take an innocent man with only the barest of protests, leaving him to rot simply because it was easier than the alternative… He had hoped he had moved past that. Moved past the all-consuming concept of the 'Greater Good'—that shining, hideous lie from his youth.
Dumbledore had planned to keep them separate, wanting to keep Harry close and dependent but safe: to be able to prepare him for what was to come and what he'd need to be able to do. Of course the boy's frustratingly, admirably Gryffindorish qualities would lead him straight to his godfather. Now the boy would know that Black was innocent and Dumbledore couldn't just let himself repeat the mistakes of his past. He couldn't just hand the man over to the authorities: that would break Harry's heart and, in no small way, break his own as well. Again.
It was a mess.
But it was also an opportunity. Perhaps this was a chance to make up for his mistakes.
In the shadows of his mind, a part of him pushed to leave Black to his fate, a voice argued that Black could and would ruin everything… a voice that sounded so much like someone he had once called 'friend'. He pushed it aside, out, away. And if another part of his crafty mind was already scheming—already twisting this mess to fit into his plans and finding new exploits—that part he left alone. The end result would be the same, regardless of any additional benefits.
Black would be free, saved by Dumbledore's interference if not by his own hands. Providing Harry with a plan to save not only his godfather but the Hippogriff as well: that was well within his skills. It would work nicely.
It was just a matter of waiting for Black to get himself caught, which should happen soon enough. Then he could send his plan into motion. Dumbledore allowed himself a small, sad smile, blue eyes twinkling with a more calculating gleam than he usually let show.
The ball abruptly stopped rolling, the green color draining away until it was the same silver color as the other trinkets.
Dumbledore blinked at it. Much like a certain Unspeakable who had been cataloging prophecies, he took off his half-moon spectacles, cleaned them, perched them back on his nose, and blinked at it again. This little ball had been enchanted to roll around only so that nobody would look at it too closely; the charm that actually mattered was a monitoring spell.
It monitored Harry Potter's prophecy. The Prophecy.
It was supposed to glow green when everything was normal, red if somebody removed the prophecy, and yellow for anything else.
It was certainly not supposed to just… stop.
He picked up the little ball and drew his wand to give it a slight tap, confirming what he had already guessed: the spell had been cut off. Which shouldn't have been possible, since even destroying the prophecy's orb should have only caused it to change to yellow. Still trying to figure out what could have happened, he placed it back onto his desk and left his office.
The halls of Hogwarts were quiet, soft snoring from the many portraits and the occasional gentle creak from the castle itself accompanying the sound of his soft footfalls. A breeze from outside slid through cracks in the window frames, whistling quietly. Above him a ghost in a shimmering dress silently flew in through the wall.
It was peaceful.
And then it was white.
A thrum of magic slammed through Hogwarts, pure white light flooding through any window it could. The portraits jerked awake with sounds of confusion and even Dumbledore staggered in surprise. It was over quickly, whatever it was.
"M-magic…?" the ghost whispered, her form unsteady and even paler than it should be. She was staring out the window with something akin to awe in her gray eyes.
Magical Britain's most renowned and powerful wizard stared with her.
Something… Something had changed this night.
Authors Note:
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Undertale.
Happy Halloween!
I hope you liked this bonus update! (Note that it's a 'bonus'!) It wasn't really long enough to just post by itself as the month's chapter, so I figured it would make a good treat for Halloween.
Thank you to everyone who has reviewed! You're all awesome!
CHAPTER EDITED ON NOVEMBER 19, 2016.
I wasn't really pleased with how I portrayed Dumbledore in this section originally, and a comment from a reader motivated me to take a second shot at it. I'm much more pleased with this version, so thanks to Mezmo for inadvertently giving me the push I needed to actually improve it!
See ya on the flipside, everyone!