Hello there, again!
Legends and myths speak of a forgotten power, the Great Sight. More often than not referred to as a curse rather than a Talent. Perhaps this is the way Seers came to exist, hence how their prophecies were born. But I do not think so, as it is never talked about great suffering. In the Ancient Age, the wielders of this power were hunted and executed, for they were believed to be Omens. As if that could make a change. Few survived this prosecution. Even less refrained from putting an end to their lives. I came to observe that Seers fare well. The users of the Great Sight did not. Therefore, a vast amount of knowledge has been lost. It might be selfish on my behalf, but I truly lament the lost of such information, although there was a reason why so many committed suicide.
Lawrence the Third, in 'Compendium of Talents', Chapter 5.
Chapter 8 - Eye of the Future
Ron could not believe an entire month had gone by since he last met with his parents. In the end, much to his surprise, it all had turned out alright. More or less. He had been allowed to remain a Slytherin, and the trust his father had on him really filled his heart with joy. But it had not been so easy for his mother, who had yet to write to him.
But that was only the tip of the matter.
Lectures were getting more and more exciting each week, and he still was considered one of the best students in most. Also, there was his growing relationships with his friends. Ron was sure they had reached a point in which they might consider him a friend rather than an ally.
Of course, there also came bad things. His lack of time had prevented him from talking to Percy as often as he would've liked; to speak to him about the lack of response from Mum. As it did prevent him from spending time with his friends.
And then came the twins; the cherry atop of the cake. At first, Ron had been left amazed by their supportive attitude toward his decision. He suspected his explosion of sincerity had much to do with it. However, it did not last long. Mainly because of the growing rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor. The race for the House Cup and the Quidditch Cup was a most serious one, after all. And the fact he had won so many points for the snakes was a matter they took to heart. Subtle glances had been sent in his way, more so by Fred, and the threat of pranks was an evident yet silent one.
It was a very worrisome problem, but it did not matter the slightest as of today.
For the first time in more than a month, Ron had met with Gerd yet again. It happened during one of his weekly strolls along the Black Lake's shore, when he sighted a familiar flash of blue near the Forest. Of an eagle, the form Gerd used to take from time to time.
What the bloody hell are you playing at, Gerd? Ron thought as he followed the ethereal eagle into the Forest. Even under the Sun's embrace, bright and warm, it was not too welcoming a place; especially because of all the legends he'd heard of it. And it was a thought which accompanied him with every step he took. For much he tried, he wasn't able to catch up with her. Nor to lose sight of her, though.
A bad feeling took root within him.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Gerd halted at some clearing in the middle of the Forest. Ron found himself surrounded by a wall of trees, but a roofless place it was, and that allowed the sunlight to seep through the thicket. And the light fell upon Gerd-eagle, who stood still in the air in a wingless flight.
"Gerd? What are you playing at?" the boy asked, exhausted after the long walk. "First, you disappear for more than a month without saying a word! And then you come up with this silly idea of dragging me through the Forest, like a bloody game of tag!"
Gerd did not answer.
The Essentia just stood there, her little, black eyes staring right into Ron's blue orbs. Then she vanished under a rain of blue sparks, and they were carried away by the nonexistent wind. What the hell? What is happening here?
Ron took a few steps back, yet a sudden voice stilled him. "I have waited for so long, Ronald." It was a voice devoid of any emotion, which sent shivers down his spine. Mainly because he felt like he knew to whom it belonged.
When he turned around as a shuddering mess, what he found was, "Gerd? Is that you?"
In front of him stood an ethereal woman, and she shone with a brighter light of blue than Gerd had ever. She was taller than Ron, and held her head tall and proud, as if royalty, with a glint in her eyes which spoke of wisdom and experience. But there also came a feel of dread within her, one which could not belong to his chirpy, little friend.
"But it is me, Ronald," the woman spoke, her voice loud and mighty. "My real self. The presence which has accompanied you for the past three years is but a shadow of my true essence. I needed it to create a Link with you as I gathered what little strength my soul still retained. Alas, finally I am returned, after more than two thousand years of slumber. Yet for just a moment of clarity. It shall be enough, I am afraid."
"W-What do you mean?" Ron spluttered, stepping away from this strange woman. "You ain't making any sense! If this is one of your pranks, please stop it! Congratulations, you've freaked me out!
"I am so very sorry, Ronald." And to his horror, he felt it within her voice. "But I swore many centuries ago that I would not fail once more. This might be the last chance for mankind and this world."
Shit, shit, shit! What is happening here!? Ron tried to run then, but the wall of trees bent down and cut his only escape route after a flick of her fingers. The terrified boy drew out his wand. It almost slipped from his sweaty, trembling fingers. "I swear that if you take one more step, I'll curse you into oblivion! You know I'll do it!"
"I know you will," the woman smiled sadly. "Such is one of the reasons why I Linked you. Again, I apologise for what I am about to do. It is the only way. I failed in the past, but you will not. I will see to it."
Had he known what she was about to do beforehand, the outcome would not have changed.
Ron sent a Knockback Jinx at her, but all she did was to glide past it, so fast his eye could but blink in shock. She appeared right in front of him. "I really wish things were not this way," she mused. "I truly do. But I must fix all the mistakes I once committed. I must atone, Ronald. I must atone before mankind suffers the consequences."
And her hand fell upon him.
Ron screamed his lungs bloody, but no noise came out of them. Not one he could hear, at least. Tears run down his face like mighty rivers. And when she bent down her head and their foreheads touched, nothing made sense anymore.
A sudden beam of Light struck him. Then came the Knowledge to prevent the future. And the Sorrow as many of their comrades perished. The Impotence of being the one to cause their deaths. A heavy Regret, too. But also Hope for a new chance. And Fear, that of not being enough for a second time. Pure and pristine Faith in him, a mere boy from an honest and humble family.
All those emotions and many more almost turned Ron mad. Then it all stilled. A calm coldness embraced him. Ron finally opened his eyes. He noticed he wasn't in the Forest anymore. Instead he stood in front of a wide cave, its mouth so dark it seemed to be the void itself.
And void it was, for the darkness sucked him inside. There was black all around him; deep and heavy. And then came light, so bright yet not warm. He now stood in a large cavern, empty save for the old man who stood at the end of it, hands clasped behind his back.
For a moment he felt hatred toward that man, whoever he was.
"At last you came for me, Gerdnyaram." It took Ron a few seconds to understand those words were not meant for him. "I knew that I should have killed you long ago. To be precise, when Kadir introduced you to us. Before Niklos could recruit you for our beloved Order."
Ron turned, and found a woman with long, brown hair which cascaded all over her back. She wore a long, white dress, of tight sleeves and trousers, which hung to her like a second skin, as it barely waived with each step she took toward the old man. She was gorgeous, he noticed. But what really took his breath away was the resolution her green eyes showed. A silent scream of defiance.
This was Gerd in flesh and blood, he understood.
"Yes, you should have done it," Gerd said calmly. "That project of yours, in which you have been working for the past years, I know all there is to know about him. Such horror, such audacity. I saw it all in a vision the Great Sight bestowed upon me. A vision the Gods themselves bestowed upon me."
The man let out a tired sigh, then walked toward a wooden table close to the wall of the cavern. There, he grabbed a glass vial, which contained a dark fluid, and drank it down in a single gulp. "Gods, you say," he laughed out loud, yet mirthlessly. "There is no such thing in this world, Gerdnyaram. Only us, mankind, and those other inferior races which were created to prey upon us. Alas, I plan to put an end to that, as you have figured out."
He turned around to face Gerd. His eyes showed such resolution that Ron believed him to be capable of anything. "I, Herpo the Foul, will become the First God! I will Ascend, I will reach Scala ad Caelum! No one shall stop me."
Gerd then thrusted her arm forward. A strange kind of mist started to condense around her hand. The mist shaped into a most beautiful sword, grabbed in a reverse grip. Of a metallic-blue shade, very alike to that which Gerd shone in her spirit form, the slightly-curved blade screamt death and swiftness.
"I will stop you, Herpo, my old and dear master," Gerd announced. The sword pointed down as she walked forward. It slid open the surface of the cavern, of solid rock, in a thin line. "I do not care what happens to me. I am ready to lay down my life. Else, if you win, there will not be a future for any of us. I have already witnessed such Future."
"So be it, my dear girl," Herpo mused. "But I cannot waste my precious time now. My daughters will see to your death."
A loud hissing shook the chamber then, accompanied by the sound of a slithering creature. To Ron, all that happened next felt like a dream, one in which he could not move nor glance aside. From the ground came two worm-like creatures of a deep green shade, eating their way through the rock as if a hot knife through butter.
It wasn't until they surrounded Gerd that Ron realised they were gigantic snakes, not worms. Snakes of bright, golden eyes which glistened with hunger; let it be of hunger for flesh or blood, or even both.
And all Gerd did was to take a guarding stance and to close her eyes. "How did you come to hide the existence of two Basilisk this large to us?" she asked as the snakes preyed upon her, circling around and hissing menacingly. "Well. It does not matter. I shall erase your entire legacy today!"
A loud hiss preceded their attack. The two snakes launched themselves at Gerd. But she was faster. The woman slammed her hand into the ground, and it raised to her command, forming a dome-like shield which protected her from the sharp fangs of their mouths. Both beasts slammed themselves into the dome, trying to break through it. Yet it held.
Suddenly, stone spikes were born from it. One of the Basilisks did not slither back fast enough, and her jaw and neck was pierced from side to side, soaking the dome below with a river of green blood. The shriek she let out was one which would grant Ron nightmares for the rest of his life.
Yet it seemed to do nothing but to anger her.
They retreated, their aggressiveness long forgotten, and chose to slither around the dome, wary of any other surprise. Nothing happened for a short while. Then the dome exploded in a rain of countless fragments, and the debris fell upon the snakes as if stone arrows. They were quick enough to dance through the storm of rock and dust. But not for what came next.
Gerd emerged from the dust cloud, and with a simple flick of her hand, she transfigured all the debris into a dense cloud of black smoke. It covered most of the cavern in the blink of an eye. Then she moved like a ghost through the smoke and ventured inside. For a reason Ron could feel her. It allowed him to notice how the wind seemed to gather around her hand. And she jumped. No, she flew, carried by the winds, toward the largest of the snakes.
The Basilisk was an instant too slow. She tried to bite Gerd in half. It was useless. Turning sharply in the air she dodged those fangs, at the same time Gerd spun around her own axis, and the blade severed the head of the Basilisk with a most clean cut. It fell with a thud to the ground, and blood still poured out of the wound long after death.
Gerd landed gracefully on her left foot. Her once white, pristine dress was now soaked in green blood.
Right after she spun around, dispelling the cloud of smoke with a waive of her hand. Not far from her slithered the second Basilisk, hissing and hissing yet full of doubt now. Now the witch took an offensive stance, both blade and hand before her body. It was almost funny to see such a mighty creature coward from a woman, but it was clear the snake no longer thought she had the upper hand.
A strange dance followed, performed by witch and snake. Fangs clashed against blade many times. Many feints were made. Yet no more blood was shed. Gerd's polished technique with the blade made the Basilisk lose more and more terrain. And all of that with her eyes closed. Ron wondered if she had another form of sight, as she seemed to predict each and every attack.
At last the Basilisk had enough, and she thrusted forward way faster than Ron could have ever imagined. Fortunately, Gerd was not him. She just waited for the right moment, and when the fangs were about to close upon her, she stepped out of their reach.
A tad too slow.
With a triumphal hiss the fangs closed around Gerd's arm. Ron screamed his lungs bloody in horror. What happened next was something he could not understand. Gerd's flesh became smoke then, and the Basilisk's jaw closed with a loud, cracking sound. It was over before any of them knew what was happening.
Gerd severed the snake's head with an upward cut, blade still gripped in reverse. A second head fell to the ground, accompanied by rivers of blood too. The witch stood alone amidst the blood-soaked chamber, and her arm was of flesh and bone once more. She finally opened her eyes. They were cold and furious, like a blizzard.
"Your tricks will not work on me," Gerd said aloud. "Time to atone for your sins, Herpo. Face me, now. You, the self-proclaimed First God, against I, the Eye of the Future. As it was fated to be."
"Nothing but a delusional woman is what I see in front of me," Herpo the Foul hissed, though his eyes remained a bottomless pit devoid of any emotion. "It greatly saddens me to become he who banished the Great Sight from existence. Alas, I wonder why such a cursed Talent chose you, Gerdnyaram? You have never been as powerful as I, thus all your efforts today will be futile. Your journey will end here and now, in this forgotten chamber buried deep beneath the ruins. Is that what you want?"
In response, all Gerd did was to raise her blade.
No further words were exchanged.
Herpo raised both hands, and the whole cavern began to shake as if struck by an earthquake. The ground cracked, chunks of rock fell from the ceiling and walls, vast pieces of stone rose while others sank.
Gerd used the winds to jump from one surface to another, at last landing on the largest one, which slowly rose up. Her hand glowed gold. "Lux Aeterna!" she screamed. A golden beam of light was born from her, so bright and warm it hurt to even look at it. It shattered all it found on its way to Herpo.
Yet the old man, he who looked so fragile and weak, just awaited its arrival. Then clapped both hands as it was about to hit him. Time seemed to freeze then, as some kind of waving appeared out of thin air where his hands touched. Whether it was another kind of wind magic or something different was a fact Ron ignored. But, much to his horror, the golden beam was consumed by the rippling.
"You dare to use your foul magic against me, a God," Herpo mused. "Humans should never defy a God." His finger pointed at Gerd, "Because of your sins, you shall receive sacred punishment." The rippling now appeared upon Gerd. And from it came the recently absorbed beam of light.
Gerd was barely able to dodge her own magic by jumping backward. It was a sheer trail of destruction, all the spell left after missing its target. They are monsters. Such a thought stormed its way into Ron's mind. It turned out he was not the only one in shock.
Gerd landed on another isle, her confidence in herself and her skills erased. Her face glistened with sweat, her hair stuck to her forehead and her eyes could not even blink her horror away. Still she did not give up. With a renewed fire she threw her sword at Herpo, who just sidestepped it. But that granted her enough time to get back in action, and soared through the chamber as the winds served her well yet again. The blade appeared on her hand once more.
The first glimpse of emotion appeared within Herpo's face, that of fury. "You always were far too persistent for your own good! I must end you, here and now!"
Again he aimed his hand at Gerd, who glided from one isle to another as some sank and others rose. At last she landed in the one in which Herpo stood, because he allowed her to. No sooner than she set a foot down a hundred spikes came from the ground, their tips sharp as those of a spear.
A clever trap, Ron reckoned, but one for which Gerd was prepared. Letting out a furious cry she raised a white Shield around her body, like a bubble. However, much to their surprise, the spikes never reached so far to grace it. Instead they halted halfway to her, and surrounded the witch from each and every direction.
"You never had what it took to be Kadir's apprentice," Herpo said, his hand aimed at the ground below her. "To think you would allow your emotions to seize control of your body in such a moment. Oh, if he could see you now! How disappointed he would be."
A flow of bright, green flames poured from his hand; a furious current. The fire was quick to cover her Shield, to strangle it, turning it into an incandescent fireball. But it did not stop there. Flicking his wrist he directed the flames downward, and the ground below was melted as if made of wax. Countless pounds of solid rock, melted as if nothing.
If this old man was capable of such a feat, there was no one who could stop him, Ron thought with horror.
Yet Gerd endured through it all, and the witch let out the most furious, and desperate, cry he had ever heard. She, somehow, kept her Shield floating above the void below. And yet still covered by the flames, a small opening was made there. Through it her voice came, "How?"
"You have lost, Gerdnyaram," Herpo sighed. "It does not matter how hard you try, how many Futures of mine you see. Now a new question arises, that of your last decision. Will you die combusted by my Sacred Fire, or will you die pierced by the spikes? For your sake and mine, I would rather you choose the Fire. It will be a quicker death, far more merciful. Like blowing out a candle."
"This cannot be happening…" Gerd mused, again and again. And the flames which covered her Shield seemed to open away as the mantra was uttered. Finally he caught a glimpse of her face. Bloodshot, unblinking eyes were those which awaited him. It was the look of madness. "I choose… I choose… To go down and take you to hell with me!"
Gerd roared like a wild beast, all trace of sense gone. Such a cry shattered her Shield, but also dispelled the Fire away and reduced the spiks to dust. And she made use of the winds one last time. It was a short flight, but the fastest. Her blade condensed in her hand out of that mist.
For a second Herpo stood unmoved, surprised. It allowed Gerd to thrust her blade forward. Yet Herpo could but raise his hand to stop it. The sword went through his hand, piercing and cutting flesh, bone and muscle up to the elbow. But there it halted. It halted as rivers of black, smoking blood oozed from the wound. As tendrils of it seemed to coil around the blade..
"I-Impossible," Gerd uttered in fear. "This sword is made of Alazthi Steel. No magic can stop it…"
"Not even that of a God?" Herpo all but whispered, his breath coming out like a ragged whistle. "Oh, you had so much to learn, Gerdnyaram. Such a bright future ahead of you, my dear girl. But you are a mortal, I am a God. Mankind's creation, no matter how perfected it was, cannot hurt me.
His hand moved up slowly, toward Gerd's face. Ron did not know whether time had allowed this man to mould it as he desired, or whether it was a thing of the nightmare he witnessed. But he was left incapable of moving a single finger as Death itself preyed upon Gerd, his loyal friend. So slowly the moment seemed to never come.
But it did.
"You have made me lose so much time," Herpo whispered as his hand closed around her skull. Gerd screamed in agony, in such a way it would stick forever in Ron's mind. "Oh, why did it have the Great Sight to choose you? Why did you have to come and face me today? This is all your fault."
Ron could but close his eyes and try to forget all he had seen. But it was proven to be an impossible task, as Gerd's agonic cries hammered their way into his mind. He kneeled down, trying to hide his head below the ground, crying and begging for the nightmare to finally end. Please, stop! I don't want to be here! I-I want to go back home! Mum… Dad… Please, get me out of here!
At last came silence. Merciful and peaceful silence.
A soft, warm wave collided with him then. It almost seemed to embrace him, to share a bit of its warmth with him. Time went back to its usual flow as the boy raised his head from between his elbows. The chamber was gone, and so were Herpo and Gerd. Instead he stood on a colourless beach, facing a calm, grey sea. He could but sink his fingers into the dark sand, allowing the slip from his fingers in a silent cascade.
"What you have just witnessed was the day I died."
The voice came from behind, but he need not turn around to know to whom it belonged. Yet he did, and he came to face Gerd once more. She was back in her spirit form, but still stood taller than him, and with the same regal look. This was not his dear friend, he understood. She wore the same dress she had worn to battle; soaked in her very own blood and also of blood which was not hers.
"That day, I was blinded by arrogance and fear," the Essentia went on, staring right into the boy's eyes. "Those of my own. Hence I decided to face the greatest wizard to ever live. I thought it was my destiny to erase his legacy. To prevent him from reaching Scala ad Caelum. To stop his so-desired Ascension. I was a fool."
Ron was so exhausted that he could not crawl away in fear, as his mind implored his body. "What kind of monster are you?" The question came out by itself. "Please, just let me go back. I don't want to be here anymore."
It was a strange sensation. To have felt fear for so long, its fingers so cold and fierce, that one could but feel some sort of peace with oneself after being drained out emotionally. Almost like an empty husk. It was wrong, he knew, but it felt so good. So he embraced that emptiness.
"I am sorry, child, but I cannot do that." And the smile she gave him was a real one, sad and weak. "I know you think of me a monster. Of this a nightmare. But I needed to show it all to you. Believe it or not, you and I are the last hope of this world. Yours, and not mine, is the destiny to erase His legacy. I know it now, with no hint of doubt. I was a fool and misunderstood the knowledge the Great Sight bestowed upon me. I was not the Fated One. In truth, I was but a tool to help him in his venture. To die was my destiny. To die by His hand and to be reincarnated into this, an Essentia. To help you fulfil your destiny."
The shear strength of the waves pulled Ron toward her; not away, as he desired. But their embrace was still a warm one, so he allowed it. When he arrived close to her, Gerd offered him a hand to stand up. He did not take it, nor refused it. Just stared right into her eyes.
"Say, do you want to save your family and friends?" she then asked. Such a question managed to break through the emptiness within himself. "Because they will all die if you refuse to accept your destiny, Fated One."
"What… What do you mean?" Ron spluttered, still on his knees. "What is going to happen to my family? Answer me!"
"Oh, and there is your fire yet again," Gerd mused with the hint of a smile. "I will not answer you. Instead, I will show it to you." Her hand reached forward, until it touched his forehead. And Ron did not move away. How could he, when the faces of his family were all he could think of? "See it for yourself. All there is to come, all there is to prevent."
It felt the same as before, though softer and warmer. Her touch took him to another place. And this one felt more like the chamber rather than the beach. Oneiric, instead of real. For a moment he stood rooted as his eyes glanced around. There he realised he was nowhere. A bunch of places, people and sensations which moved so fast he could not get a grasp of anything at all.
It suddenly stopped.
"Wait, isn't this the Ministry?" he mused to himself.
It felt so, at least. Mainly due to the walls of black bricks, embellished by golden, thin lines. But if he was at the Ministry, it was in a part of it he had never visited. It was pitch black, though he could see as well as if a hundred torches had been lit. A light appeared then, faint, but growing stronger as it came closer.
It came from a wand, he noticed. His father's wand. Arthur Weasley wandered silently through the now visible hallways of the large room. He wore black, with a hood over his head, but it was him. And unlike Ron, the hallways were not so bright to him. And so, he did not see the snake which lunged at his neck.
"Dad!" Ron screamed his lungs out. "Watch out!"
It was pointless.
The snake fell upon him like a lion upon a limping gazelle. Arthur tried to defend himself out of instinct, his wand glowing purple, but to no avail. Fangs pierced through his skin with ease, and no shout came out of him as the large body of the serpent strangled his throat and the man gurgled his own blood.
Then the scene changed.
Still far too stunned to even blink, Ron stood amidst the Great Hall. Of what little remained of it. Around him the shadows took form, morphed into people. Some he did know, others he did not. The tables in which they ate were devoid of any food. Instead, bodies had been laid on them. Bloodied and torn apart bodies.
More people appeared, running through the Hall, trying to help the wounded in any way possible. No sound reached his ears but those of a wailing mother, who rocked his dead son in her arms one last time. Or those of a crying sister, who could but stare at what little remained of his brother. Or shouts of pain. Or ragged breaths from a damaged body which refused to give up. Or that of silence, from those who had already surrendered.
Then he glimpsed a familiar flash of red. Ron walked thoughtlessly toward it. He knew what awaited there, but still got closer. It was hell itself, of course. Molly Weasley cried over Bill's body, which lay lifeless and scarred on a bloodied blanket. Percy tried to comfort her, his eyes devoid of any emotion, whereas Ginny sat still by his side, staring off to space.
There was no trace of the twins, nor of Charlie. Ron did not wonder about their whereabouts. He already knew the answer.
A flash of light ate the Great Hall away.
Ron had returned to the beach, and Gerd still stood in front of him. They had not moved an inch. The boy took in her form; she shone with a duller gleam now. "Do you understand now?" she asked. "The Future, glimpses of it, so you witnessed it. Black and hopeless it is. An Age of darkness, worse than hell itself, brought to us by the Unwanted Ones."
Dad. Bill. Ginny. Everyone. No, I-I cannot let these visions become real. And the emptiness within him was gone at last. Dispelled away by a sudden source of courage and rage, but also of pure fear. It all heated Ron up, and his eyes rose fiercely.
"I will not allow that to happen." He repeated those words again, as if to convince himself, "I will not allow that to happen! I don't know what's coming, or how I'm supposed to face it. But… There is something I can do, right? Please, tell me I can save them!"
"You can save them," Gerd replied kindly. "You and I, if we work as one, we can save them. The past and the present, together, for a better future." Her hand reached forward yet again. This time Ron took it. "I have finally understood what my purpose is. I am the Eye of the Future. My role is to oversee and aid, not change it by myself. Now, do you know who you are?"
Gerd started to decompose in a rain of dull, blue particles. And her feeble light gathered around Ron, enveloping him in warmness and clarity. The waves moved away from him, and a weak ray of sun made its way through the dark, thick clouds to fall upon him.
He knew who he was.
"I'm Ronald Weasley," the boy said aloud. "You've called me the Fated One, but I ignore what that means. All I know is that I will save my family, one way or another. No matter what, I will do whatever it takes to change the future. I will protect them."
Gerd's voice reverberated inside him, "Are you willing to take the first step? To shoulder such a heavy burden?"
"Yes."
"Then it shall be so. I have enough energy for one last moment of clarity. Bear witness to the Great Sight, Ronald. Use it well. Farewell, my dear and brave child."
Nothing of what happened next made any sense to him. A flash of light was all he saw for a moment. Then came the voices.
"Harry, Remus, don't listen to him!" a terrified voice shrieked. "He's trying to manipulate you! He's the bastard who got James and Lily killed! He sold them to the Dark Lord!"
"I'm gonna kill you, you bloody rat!" another one shouted, so angry it shut down the other voice. "Thirteen years! I've been imprisoned in Azkaban for thirteen years! There is no saving you today, Peter!"
Another flash came yet again, but this one brought more than voices with it.
Ron found himself at one of Hogwarts's bathrooms, and all he heard for a moment was a faint sniffing and water pouring down the tap. "Hermione?" he asked. His eyes fell upon the bushy-haired girl. Her eyes were red and puffy, and her face wet from tears. "Are you okay?"
The bathroom door was suddenly yanked out of its frame, and through the hole entered a large troll. Over his shoulders rested a wooden cup of unreal proportions. Whether it was due to fear and surprise was a thing Ron did not know, but Hermione did not move. It allowed the troll to close the distance, and then it briefly observed her with interest. Then his cub fell down to crush her body in a puddle of blood and flesh, echoed by the disgusting sound of bone-shattering.
And it all flashed away again.
Ron now stood in the middle of some hall. A large, golden chandelier hung above, shedding light into the crimson and black carpet below. Expensive furniture could be seen, but it had been set aside, near the wooden walls of the room, which were full of tapestries and trophies of hunt game.
One wizard dressed in black, to a point in which not even his eyes could be seen, strode into the hall. Then came a dozen more, wearing the same attire. They all got on their knees, and pressed their foreheads to the floor.
Ron's blood turned ice as he looked up. There, a smoking shadow descended, its eyes of a bright red all which could be seen of it. It oozed fear and anger, so much of it for such a little thing. A monster, he knew. Of the worst kind to ever exist.
"At last, you came to me, my loyal Companions," it hissed. "Let us begin the conquest, then."
It all ended in another flash.
Chirping birds, sunlight and the cool wind told Ron he was back at the Forbidden Forest. It all felt so surreal he could almost forget it, deemed it as a bad dream. But it was not, and it all came to him at once. He could but puke his breakfast until his stomach and throat hurt. He tasted his own bile, but even that was a wonderful thing when compared to all the horrors he'd seen.
It took him a few minutes to control his breath, to be able to feel his limbs and to push all those nightmares to the back of his mind. Then he felt her eyes on him. Ron raised his head, and there was Gerd to stare back at him. Gerd, his chirpy and loyal friend. Not the proud and regal woman who had sent him to hell.
"I'm so sorry, Ron," the Essentia almost cried. "There wasn't another way. You needed to know, now. I couldn't keep you in the dark any longer. We need to be prepared!"
It took him a while to find his words. They rose through the bile in his throat. "What are you? That woman… Was it you? But how? What is happening here, Gerd? Please, answer me. I'm so confused…"
"Yes, that woman you saw, it was me," Gerd sighed. "My real self. But she's dead now. In body and mind, at least, too weak to have a conscience of her own. I'm all that remains of her—of Gerdnyaram, the Great Seer."
"And the man who killed you, who the hell was he?" It was strange, but Ron felt as if he should know his name. For as much he tried, he couldn't come up with it.
Gerd took a seat in the air then, and embraced her knees. "The man who started it all, that's who he is. His ambition is the reason why the future of this world is at risk. That, and our foolishness."
"The shadow, the one from the last vision, was it…?" Ron did not dare to utter such a name. More so when he already knew the answer deep inside him. "B-Because that cannot be possible… Right? Harry defeated him years ago, and he died. One cannot just come back from death… Can he?"
"I don't know!" Gerd cried. "I know nothing! I'm worthless! Just a little fraction of the woman I once was, so small and miserable, cursed to wander with so heavy a burden on my shoulders! A burden you now share with me…"
She wailed all her sorrow out, but Ron did not have enough heart, nor energy, to console her. So he was rooted to the ground, sitting on his knees, staring into space. And to think all I could worry about this morning was about a prank from my brothers. And the gravity of the matter finally hit him like a bludger. He could but laugh maniacally. So loud and for so long that his throat felt raspy when it ended.
Dad, Bill, Fred and George… They really died in those visions. Ginny and their mother and the rest had been there to mourn them. But there've been no trace of him. No, that will not happen. I will not allow it. He bolted up like an arrow, and his eyes fell upon the Essentia. Gerd, her ever happy and reliable friend, found herself in a state of madness akin to his. If she did not know what to do… No, it did not matter. He would save them all, one way or another.
"We need to do something," Ron said at last. A plan, that was it. "That vision about Hermione… She looked the same as now. And the troll… Shit, it crushed her with its cub…" Bile rose up his throat again as he dizzied. Yet managed to regain his composure just in time.
Gerd took a hold of herself, too. She stood up, yet in the air, and glided toward him, to stand on his shoulder. She sniffed still, but no tear cascaded down her face. "You're right," she nodded firmly. "We need to do something. Such was the reason the Great Sight bestowed those visions upon us. I have to prepare you for what is yet to come, and we will use this knowledge to help others. I got many people killed in the past due to the many mistakes I committed. It will happen no more."
"But what, Gerd?" Ron asked again. "What can the both of us do? I'm a child, and you… You are whatever you are. We stand powerless. And if You-Know-Who is to return… Wait, we should go to Dumbledore! That's it! He will know what to do."
"No!" Gerd shouted so loud into his ear it dizzied him for a moment. "We cannot tell anyone what we know! Not yet, at least."
"Why!?" Ron shouted back. "Have you lost your bloody mind! He's the greatest wizard to ever live! The only one whom You-Know-Who came to fear! We can't do shit against what's coming, Gerd! He can!"
"Do you want to save your family or not?" Such a question left him speechless. Better said, her reason to ask it. "Listen to me, Ron. Albus Dumbledore might be an incredible wizard, perhaps a great person too, but so is what makes him so dangerous to us. He's someone destined to greatness; to stand up when necessity arises, to become a leader in times of need and hardships. Cold and hardened people, those are. And so, he shall see it all as a chessboard. Every person, a piece, every variable, a movement to make. If you hand him such valuable information, he might use it for a thing we don't want to."
"I don't see the bloody problem! Who better than him to make the decisions? Me, perhaps, a bloody child? Or maybe you, a woman who sees herself as worthless?"
"Do you want to save your family or not?" And once more the bloody question. "I might be lost and blind now, but still I am far wiser and more experienced. I have known people such as Albus Dumbledore before. Heroes, legends and myths, they became. Some good hearted and others vile as venom. Regardless of which, they all stood out because they were ready to sacrifice it all for the sake of winning. In war, information is of the utmost importance. And what we know of the future makes us valuable pieces. Now, you go and tell him what we know and you will turn us into another pawn to sacrifice."
"Albus Dumbledore would never do anything like that!" Ron pressed on. "He is fair and just. And we need him! He's the only one You-Know-Who feared!"
Gerd jumped down his shoulder with a sigh, and glided to stand in front of him. "I know this is scary and that we are not prepared, but I need you to trust me. You are but a child, yet I am not. I have lived and I have died. I have saved people and sentenced others. I have committed many mistakes and I have made plenty of good choices. So, please, will you listen to my words and heed my advice?"
All Ron wanted to do was to scream his lungs out and cry his eyes dry, to run back to the castle; to his bed and its safety. But he felt far too overwhelmed to do a thing. Instead he leaned against a tree and crouched down under its shadow. "Do you really think he would sacrifice my family?"
"If needed, he would," Gerd nodded. "Just as he would sacrifice himself if needed, too. We will tell him everything, Ronald. Eventually. But not as of today."
"There isn't much to tell him," Ron said in a whisper. "I just caught glimpses of things I don't even understand. I heard some conversation in which Harry's name was mentioned. And one in which Hermione…" She had been crushed under a troll's club. To remember it almost made the boy vomit once more. "Hell… She got crushed under a club, Gerd. And… And she looked the same as she does now! Shit, shit, shit! We need to do something!"
"Yes, that's a good start," Gerd nodded. "Such vision was bestowed upon you for a reason. That girl, Hermione, is important to the future. We must save her no matter what."
One thing was to say it; another to do it. But still such a purpose helped Ron to clear his mind a bit. He could barely open his eyes as exhausted as he was, yet they refused to close and rest.
Gerd got closer to him, and her fingers then caressed his face. There was a sad smile on her face. "You will not be alone, Ron. It may feel an impossible venture, a deed far too great for a child to accomplish. But so fate had it. There is a reason why such a burden was to fall upon your shoulders. And I can but lend you mine, to ease a bit of such responsibility."
Her words shed a bit of warmth within him. Ron thought about his family once more; about all he had seen. Those visions must not become a reality, under any circumstance. I won't allow it, he swore to himself. No matter what, my family won't know such suffering. I must be brave, like a true Weasley. Step by step, I will do it. I will change future itself!
