Black Diamond Prophecy by Pisciculus

Rating: PG13
Genres: Drama, Action & Adventure
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 6
Published: 28/02/2006
Last Updated: 28/02/2006
Status: In Progress

James and Lily appear suddenly in the Hogwarts Hospital Wing one bright, sunny day in the middle
of August, 1998. Prophecies that are thousands of years old come into play as Harry discovers that
he is part of an ancient Order, and that he may very well have to sacrifice his life for a cause
he's not quite sure he believes in.




1. Prologue - At the Beginning
------------------------------



Black Diamond Prophecy

By xRanax

**Prologue - At the Beginning**

Mel Graves could only trust that her sister would have enough sense to listen to instructions
and keep Potter, Evans, and Snape off the damn Hogwarts Express. If things didn't go as planned
today, all would be ruined and the future of magic would crumble.

Why Sarah had trusted *Mel*, of all people, for this task was beyond her comprehension. Mel
was old, incompetent, and hardly a hair-breadth's away from being a squib. She *hated*
children, especially children who thought they were adults.

Adults certainly would not be sobbing and clutching at each other like the end of the world had
come early over such a trivial matter as summer holidays. But these *children* were doing just
that, reminiscing together like they actually had done something worthy of remembering in their
tiny little lives.

A whistle blew through the crowd of dispersing students, beckoning them to a vibrant scarlet
steam-engine which was scheduled to depart the station in less than five minutes. Mel cursed under
her breath and examined the platform with steely grey eyes.

It might have helped if she were just a few inches taller than, at the very least, some of the
second years. As it was, though, she stood at a measly five foot one and couldn't see a single
thing more than two feet away due to the over-crowding.

Alice was nowhere in sight. Mel's creativity with words caused several passers by to slow
down and stare at her. In return, she gave them all Evil Death Glares of Doom, which even given her
height was mighty impressive. The long curly locks of graying light-brown hair didn't help
much, though, with the intimidation factor.

Just as she was about to give it up for a lost cause, preparing her speech about how the world
didn't even *need* magic and her mistake didn't really cost them *that* much
except maybe a few hundred thousand lives, Mel spotted a familiar face. Alice looked extremely
uncomfortable, like she was quickly coming to her wit's end.

Mel paused only long enough to close her eyes and let a sigh of relief sweep through her body
before she began to shove her way through the crowd. “Hey!” somebody yelled indignantly as she
elbowed them in the stomach. “Watch it!” somebody else shrieked, rubbing her poor trampled-on toes.
Mel didn't even bother to mutter apologies or look back.

“Well, yes, I mean, it leaves in a few minutes, but I mean, this is our last year here, I mean,
we should station the en- I, I mean, enjoy the station. We might never see it again. Do you want to
forget, I mean, er, aren't you worried? You might, you might never see…that brick, yes, you
might never see that brick again, wouldn't that be sad? I mean, let's wait `till-“

Mel grimaced as she stalked up to the group of seventh year Gryffindors, unseen and unheard.
Alice, Sarah had told Mel, would become one of the most famous aurors in all of Britain, before
being driven mad with the Cruciatus Curse by a group of lunatic Death Eaters. She would marry
*Frank Longbottom*. But right now, Mel had a hard time believing that, as she watched her
pathetic excuse for a sister stuttering away about missing bricks.

*Well,* Mel thought, *it's the thought that counts.* Finally having enough of the
bewildered group listening to Alice's ceaselessly annoying and inane babble, Mel decided to
speak up. She stood at her full height, which was no more impressive than a daring first year, and
cleared her throat.

Alice jumped. She looked up, her round blue eyes connecting with Mel's. “Mel!” she cried,
sounding relieved. She did *not* make a very good actress. “Mel! What are, what are you doing
here?”

She might as well have cried, “Ah, Mel, there you are! I was beginning to think my distractions
were going to fail! You were going to be late to our previously scheduled party!” Mel rolled her
eyes.

“Shove it, Alice,” she said harshly. “Get on the train. Shoo.” She gestured with her hand
towards Alice like she would toward a persistent fly, and felt a grim sense of satisfaction at the
look of hurt that flittered across her sister's eyes.

“All, all right,” she mumbled.

“Who are you?” As Alice wandered off towards the Hogwarts Express, a sharp, defensive voice cut
into Mel's thoughts. She turned her attention back to the group of Gryffindors and forced a
smile onto her face. She knew it was strained, and decided to take back the cruel thoughts
she'd had about Alice's acting ability. Apparently lack of talent ran in the family.

The girl who had spoken was the fierce red-haired, green-eyed Lily Evans Mel had heard so much
about. She was taller than Mel (no great feat, that), and stared down at her with distinct
distaste. Well, Mel *had* just insulted one of the girl's best friends. It was only to be
expected of a Gryffindor.

“Mel Graves,” she replied stonily. She examined the boys, the famous Marauders who were destined
to be broken apart and destroyed completely within the next five years. The smile suddenly became a
little less cruel, a little sadder, as pity and rage fought to dominate Mel's heart.

“You're related to Alice?” asked the small, chubby blond-haired boy, Peter Pettigrew. Mel
nodded, refusing to look the rat in the eye. The stories she'd heard about him…. *Don't
judge them on who they're about to become, Mel,* Sarah had warned her. *Do not mess with
the future that has to happen.*

“I'm her sister,” said Mel without thinking. She winced. Whoops. Mel, now, was at least
sixty years old, and saying that she was a student's older sister would only make it seem as if
she were insane. “I mean, I'm her aunt, her mother's sister.” For all the scorn Mel
directed at Alice for her stuttering, she may well have been the pot calling the goddamn kettle
black.

The four boys and Lily all exchanged incredulous glances. The steam-engine whistle blew again,
and James Potter, in all his messy black-haired, brown-eyed glory, stepped forward. “Well, it was
nice meeting you, Miss Graves,” he said awkwardly, “but we have to get on the train.”

*Miss Graves?* Mel thought resentfully. *Is it that obvious that I'm single?* The
fact that she'd said she was Alice's mother's sister suddenly struck her as very
stupid. She could just see Sarah rolling her eyes and saying, “Mel, you are such a trip. First you
insult your own sister and then you go about showing the very same traits you are so scornful of.
Honestly.”

“No,” said Mel. “No, you aren't. Well, not you, anyway, Mr. Potter, Miss Evans. You're
coming with me.” *At least I don't stutter,* Mel thought to herself, mentally kicking
Sarah for the laugh she would have given if she'd actually heard that comment.

“Excuse me?” That was Lupin. Pity won over rage for a moment as Mel remembered what would happen
to the werewolf. The last of his friends, laden with the guilt of everything he hadn't been
able to do. Mel sighed.

“I'm afraid,” she began in a much more kindly voice, “I need to speak to Mr. Potter and Miss
Evans. They will not be taking the train home today.” The clock struck ten fifty-eight. Black,
Lupin, and Pettigrew were glaring at Mel, but Potter, oh yes, Potter knew what was going on. He
grabbed onto Evans's arm. She gave him a puzzled look.

“You guys go get on the train,” he said, not tearing his gaze away from Mel. She sighed, and for
the first time since this had all started, she thanked Potter's parents for having the nerve to
tell their son about Pondera's Order. The three friends reluctantly left, mumbling
goodbyes.

The station had cleared out completely. Casting Potter a thankful look, Mel looked around.
*Shit,* she thought. If she didn't find Snape…but there he was, the last student to board
the train with a younger Slytherin at his tail.

“Severus Snape!” she called out. “Get off that train right this instant!”

He, too, knew of Pondera's Order. He stepped off the train, tripping the little boy behind
him as he did, just in time. The engines roared into life and the wheels began to turn.

“James, what on earth?!” cried Evans behind her. “James, we've missed the train!” She
sounded just the slightest bit hysterical. For perhaps the fiftieth time since she'd entered
the station, Mel rolled her eyes. A part of her wished that she had failed, that she wouldn't
have to deal with three highly confused teenagers and the weight of the world of magic resting on
her small but prominent shoulders.

Snape was glaring at Mel in a `if looks could kill' kind of way. She wondered if he knew
what was about to be asked of him. She beckoned him to come and refused to listen to the protests
coming from Evans and Potter, the questions that were bound to come as the lanky, sallow-skinned
boy from Slytherin approached, a cautionary look set upon his angled features.

“You know why I asked you to stay behind?” Mel asked Snape. She received a curt nod in reply,
and smiled thinly. Snape was the reason all of this had to happen, Sarah had told her. Snape, of
all people, had placed his heart before his head and acted without thinking about the consequences.
But that was nearly twenty years from now.

“I don't,” said Evans angrily. Mel turned to see that she had placed her hands on her hips.
“I don't trust you. I just missed the train because of you and now-“

Snape intervened before Mel could even think up a biting retort. “Evans,” he sneered, “you have
no idea what you're doing with here. You'd be better off shutting the hell up.”

Evans blinked. She looked towards Potter, who shrugged and glared at Snape. “I think Snivellus
is right,” he said coldly. Evans didn't even open her mouth to reprimand him, too stunned was
she to think coherently.

“What?” she finally said. She crossed her arms over her chest, vibrant green eyes flashing
dangerously. “Will somebody please explain to me what is going on here?”

Mel sighed. “Not in the open,” she said. She turned and set out for a safer destination, using
the few moments she had to calm down her nerves. She was dealing with the future here, and the fate
of the entire world of magic. And for all the times she said Alice was an incompetent fool, Mel had
to admit that she herself was just as incompetent, just as foolish.

The three of them followed silently. Some part of Mel felt that something had gone wrong
already, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. *Well, if it's something
important,* she thought wryly, *we'll all be dead anyway and it won't matter.*

When they reached a bathroom, a grubby, run-down, smelly public bathroom that Mel immediately
wrinkled her nose at, they entered silently. Evans hesitated, of course, but when Potter put his
hand on her shoulder reassuringly she followed. Mel remembered hearing something about how
disgustingly `in love' the two were, and how that would play a crucial part in the events being
set into motion this day.

There was silence. Snape leaned against one of the pale green stalls, folding his arms over his
chest. The expression on his face made it very clear that he detested every bit of this moment,
from the implications it had on his future right down to the yellowed tile beneath his feet. Potter
and Evans stayed close to the exit.

Mel pursed her already thin lips and glanced between the three of them. The silence, which had
descended upon them shortly after Mel had started leading them away from the tracks, was tense and
nearly unbearable. But Mel wouldn't be the one to break it. Mel was never the one to break
awkward silences.

Finally it was Potter who spoke up. “Perhaps you could tell us what's going on, now,” he
said shortly. Evans tensed.

“I thought you knew, James,” she said.

He shrugged but said nothing.

“You are here,” Mel began, “because of Pondera and an ancient prophecy which has been floating
through time for nearly a thousand years. You are here because of mistakes that have not yet been
made.” Her fingers traced the grainy texture of wall beside her as she struggled not to wrinkle her
nose at the sharp twang of smell that dominated what could only be described as the most disgusting
public bathroom in all of Europe.

“There is an order, Pondera's Order, which the Potter and Prince families have long been an
essential part of. It is an order of balance in the world, created by those who fear and wish to
prevent the ceasing of all things magical.”

“And what does that have to do with…us?” Evans asked, examining Snape expectantly.

“Mr. Snape, here, is a Prince,” said Mel. “And you, my dear, are soon to be a Potter.”

Silence. Evans's eyes widened so large that they seemed to swallow her face.
*“What?”*

Mel smirked, but it faded quickly. She didn't have time for this. Glancing around to make
sure that nobody else was around, Mel reached into the pocket of the faded black robes she was
wearing and drew out two folded pieces of parchment. She handed one to Potter and one to Snape.

“Do with these as you will,” she said quietly. “But remember, Pondera is now a part of who you
are.”

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