Sixteen-year-old Harry Potter took a deep breath as he walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows. He put his hands inside the pockets of his trousers and stared at the beautiful grounds outside.
Harry knew that the Deathly Hallows were very powerful. The wizard who obtained them all was said to be the Master of Death and according to legend, was also immortal. The question was – should he keep them locked up or should he use it? He considered his options. As far as anyone was concerned, the cloak was not a threat. It had survived for centuries within the family, and he too would eventually pass it on to his descendants. The stone had been held by the Gaunts for hundreds of years in the form of a ring. None of them knew its true power – that it was a necromantic marvel. People like Dumbledore and Grindelwald might think it would create an army of Inferi, but Harry highly doubted that. It was not a weapon of war, according to the Tale of the Three Brothers.
The sole danger was the Elder Wand. That was a weapon that had destroyed countless lives. Only a powerful wizard could truly tame the Deathstick. Was he qualified?
The teenager flexed his fingers. He would not let the Elder Wand be placed under lock and key. Such power could have its uses, and he had plans for the future. Nothing that involved war, but if he ever met powerhouses like Lord Voldemort or Albus Dumbledore again, the Elder Wand would be a useful ally. He was already the master of the wand, so why not use it?
Thinking so, Harry moved back to his desk and picked up the Elder Wand. However, he gasped when he was forced to throw it back – it was burning hot! The wand began glowing. Harry stepped back in surprise when it ascended in the air. The Resurrection Stone followed, expanding in size until it stood as a perfect disc. The Invisibility Cloak folded into a neat triangular shape and assembled behind the two objects creating the symbol of the Deathly Hallows. All three were glowing bright gold, and the temperature in his study was very warm due to the amount of magic present in the air.
"What is this?" Harry murmured to himself. He slowly extended his hand to touch it, to feel it. He didn't know why he was doing it, but something about the Hallows was calling to him, and he was attracted to it like a magnet.
The moment his skin touched the objects, Harry screamed as the magic in the Deathly Hallows merged into his body. The Hallows reconfigured to form a sphere of golden magical energy and before he knew what was happening, the sphere had connected with his chest. Harry closed his eyes as his head started spinning. He saw things he couldn't identify. There was pitch blackness all around him, but suddenly, he could see stars, planets, galaxies, and just when he thought he was going mad, the Deathly Hallows infused with his very soul.
Lightning flashed outside Potter Castle as it began raining heavily. Harry's body was glowing, with his aura lashing out violently. He struggled to regain control of his magic as he collapsed on his knees, breathing heavily. His vision was still blurry, and his body was aching everywhere. He fell back against his desk; his head was throbbing too.
What the hell was that?
Several floors underground, in the bowels of the castle, was a basin holding two ancient signet rings. The basin, charmed by the late Lady Potter, recognised the powerful magical signatures of the witch and wizard present in the castle. With a flash of light, the Peverell signet rings for the Lord and Lady vanished, appearing on the fingers of Harry Potter and Daphne Greengrass. The Most Ancient and Noble Clan of Peverell had been revived.
"Harry?"
The scion of the Potter family stood up immediately and turned towards the door. He was stunned to see that both Daphne and Dylan were trembling. There was a golden glow around their bodies as well. Both of them were breathing erratically.
"Harry, you won't believe this, but something strange happened just a few minutes ago," Dylan cried hysterically. "Some strange golden sphere suddenly appeared in front of me and the next thing I knew, my whole body is aching and I was surrounded by pitch blackness!"
Daphne was looking at Harry introspectively. "The same happened to me too," she confessed softly. "And somehow, I gained a ring as well."
Harry paused as he examined the ring. It was made of black diamond, placed on a platinum band, with the crest of a Thestral. It was the Peverell ring. But that was not what worried him. His body was literally infused with magic, and he felt more powerful than he ever had before. But he was confused; the Deathly Hallows reacting that way to one person made sense. After all, according to legend, there could be only one Master of Death. Why did the same thing happen to Dylan and Daphne as well?
"Harry?" asked Daphne worriedly, placing her hand on his shoulder. "What's going on?"
For the first time, Harry didn't know how to answer that. He too was dazed by the developments that had unfolded in the past few minutes and he couldn't begin to comprehend them. Dylan stood silently, waiting for Harry to speak.
"I don't know," exhaled Harry. "I had placed the Deathly Hallows –"
"Wait, the Death Hallows? But they're a myth, right?" she frowned. "I know about them, but they're supposed to be a children's tale!"
Harry smiled faintly. "Not really," he admitted. "But I'll explain later. I need to think for a while ... clear my head."
Daphne and Dylan looked at each other in confusion as Harry transformed into his Animagus form and flew out of the window.
"That was odd," muttered Dylan. He flexed his fingers and pointed them at the large windows. He narrowed his eyes and concentrated.
A jet of white light flew from the tips of his fingers, making the window explode. Daphne gasped as she hastily threw up a shield. However, the shield was so strong that it pushed them against the wall painfully.
"Did I just use wandless magic?" he exclaimed, inspecting his hand with barely concealed curiosity.
Daphne was already on her feet. Repairing the damage with just a flick of her wand – again, proving that her magical reserves had increased drastically – she quickly made her way to the castle's library. She would have to find out what had happened to her, Harry and Dylan.
HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP
At Hogwarts, Luna Lovegood suddenly sat upright, her silvery eyes staring into space, lost in thought. Her vision clouded as she was soon transported into another world. Images and sounds dominated her sight.
"– does that mean the suffering of all those children count for nothing?" spat Harry. "Are we just going to ignore the plight of defenceless children and sit in our cradle of power? Your arrogance disgusts me!"
"Nature does not differentiate between good or bad, Lord Potter. Nature and Magic only exist in balance, and should the balance tilt either way, it would lead to destruction."
Daphne felt tears in her eyes as she saw the sight before her. The tears quickly turned to anger. After all that they tried to do, this was how they were being repaid? She immediately took off into the air without the help of a broom. She took in the sight before her and glared hatefully. She brought her palms together as her anger reached epic proportions.
"The shroud of darkness has fallen, Lord Potter. We must take action, or we might lose everything that we hold most dear."
"My Lady," said the wizard wearing a navy-blue uniform. "We're ready."
Daphne checked her calculations once again. She took a deep breath as she stood in the middle of the ship's bridge. "Engage," she ordered. She felt the anxiety of everyone present. The screen in front of her contorted. Any second now ...
The General watched in silence as their enemies approached their position. Dylan activated the communications device as he spoke clearly, "Launch the first squadron. All ships, fire at will."
Harry stood silently as everyone waited for his command.
"They're not backing down. They've ignored your warning," said General Lestrange, turning back to look at his brother.
"Do it," said Harry quietly. His green eyes were fixed on the screen as his words were implemented into action. His fist tightened, nails digging into his palm, releasing blood.
BOOM!
Luna gasped as she woke up, trembling violently. She immediately rushed to the bathroom and threw up. This was the most intense vision she had ever had. Usually, it was just a few seconds here and there at random intervals, too brief to identify anything. But this time ...
She hastily grabbed her mirror. "Garrick Ollivander!"
Luna waited impatiently as the old man's face appeared.
"I assume you're calling me about a vision?" he asked without preamble. He too looked pale and shaken up.
"Yes, Grandpapa," answered Luna, addressing her late mother's father. "This was, by far, the clearest vision I've ever had, and I can't understand what it means."
"We can discuss your progress once you're home for the summer," exhaled Ollivander. "I need time to interpret this as well. Keep an eye on Sybill Trelawney, my dear."
"Understood," she replied, giving a curt nod. "It's a good thing the second term at school hasn't ended yet. I'll keep a close eye on her."
Luna cut the connection, but she was still breathing heavily. Splashing cool water on her face, she quietly left Ravenclaw Tower. She had to monitor another Seer in the castle – a Seer that was unlike many others. Instead of just seeing visions as she and her grandfather did, Trewalney recited actual prophecies. With a vision this intense, she might just make one.
HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP
Far away from Magical Britain, a creature was meditating. The creature seemed to be female. She had a crown on her head, but it seemed to be made of ice and pearls instead of precious stones. She was of average height. Her ears were longer than those of a human and her skin had wrinkles on them, suggesting great age. Her hands seemed strong, with sharp nails, and her skin tone was dark blue, but the most distinguishing feature of them all was her eyes – eyes which were large, the round orbs the colour of the sunset.
The Queen of the Elves opened her eyes, stroking her chin in contemplation. She summoned her chief adviser and gave her command.
"Bring Nicolas and Perenelle before me. I sense a strange shift in the planet's magical activity. Ollivander was right. The time has come. We must begin preparations for what is eventually going to happen. We must be ready within the next ten years."
"Yes, Your Majesty. I shall contact them at once."
The Queen looked towards the sky as her orange eyes narrowed. After thousands of years, it was time for the Elves to come out of their self-imposed solitude. The fate of the planet was at stake. She whispered the name of the young man whom she had sensed, the vision which the Queen had foreseen more than three hundred years ago, when she had still been a youngling.
"Harry James Potter. The Saviour of Magic."
HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP
Harry closed his eyes to contemplate his situation. He was perched on top of the highest tower of the castle, not bothered by the heavy rain that was soaking his clothes. Looking down, he once again traced the tattoo he had on his chest. The addition on his chest, directly over his heart, was the symbol of the Deathly Hallows. It was dark red, looking more like a blood clot. What was interesting was that Daphne and Dylan had the same tattoo as well, from what he had verified a couple of days ago. The memory of the three of them absorbing the magic of the Hallows made him frown.
Why was he suddenly the Master of Death?
Why him?
That was not the only puzzling discovery. Ever since he had absorbed the power of the Hallows, he had felt a connection with Daphne and Dylan he had had never felt before. It was as if his fiancée and brother were tied to him in some way. In fact, according to Daphne, she felt like the boys were tied to her. He could only conclude that all three of them, their magic itself, were tied to each other due the Deathly Hallows.
Harry could feel it, their magic present in his very soul. It was literally indescribable. Did that mean his fiancée and brother were immortal too? Wait, why was he jumping to conclusions? Was he immortal at all? The legend of the Master of Death could not possibly be true, could it?
No. There was a voice inside him, telling him that his theory was right. The magic of the Hallows had turned him into the Master of Death and he would not accept that title if he did not have his fiancée and brother with him. Magic had granted his wish – this he knew, though how, he could not explain. There was something nudging him along in that direction.
The traditions of magical species like magical humans, goblins, centaurs, merpeople, elves and many others believed in the sentience of Magic itself. To them, magic was not just a tool or ability – it was much more than that. It was the primordial energy that had created the universe. Their beliefs were based on it and this had existed for tens of thousands of years.
Harry now knew that they had all been right all along. It was as if Magic herself was guiding him along, helping him fulfil his destiny by making him the Master of Death. But what was his destiny? Hadn't he just destroyed Voldemort?
"Something on your mind, Harry?"
The young man's mouth twitched into a small smile as he saw the ghost floating next to him. If there was anyone he could talk to about his problems, it was Alfred Potter, the ghost that had raised him since he was a little boy.
"I was just thinking about what happened a few days ago," said Harry softly. "Why did the Hallows choose to merge into us? Why the three of us specifically? Why me?"
"Such questions do not always have answers, Harry," replied Alfred with a knowing smile. "The Deathly Hallows are objects that have never been fully understood by anyone. No one can predict how they would react to situations and people. Magic is free-flowing and eternal. You can't really anticipate when and why magic would flow in a certain direction."
"What is expected of me?" he blurted out. "I've fulfilled the prophecy that Trewalney recited to Dumbledore. I got rid of Voldemort for good. But now, I sense something that I cannot explain, Grandfather."
"Hmm," the ghost pondered. "This voice in your head –"
"It's not really a voice, just a strong feeling I have about my role in the future. Sometimes I feel like there are whispers in my head. Other times, it gives me a sense of peace I've never felt before. It tells me if I'm on the right path ... and that gives me the courage to move forward. But I don't understand ... it's only been a few days and I'm already feeling such strange effects!"
"And what is your path?" asked Alfred sharply. "What is that you plan to do?"
Harry took a deep breath. "The magical world isn't truly safe until we have cut off all contact with the Muggles," he said. "My main concern is the children who grow up in Muggle environments. Of course, I'm also worried that the International Statute of Secrecy cannot be enforced a few decades from now unless we do something. With more Muggles being informed about magic, the more dangerous it's going to be. If the statute ever crumbles, we'll have nowhere to run, and we can't defend ourselves against such superior numbers. I have goals and ideas for the future of the magical world but I also know that one person cannot do it alone. I can recognise that this is how Dark Lords began their journey, but so did some of the greatest witches and wizards in history. Unfortunately, history also shows us that greatness always comes at a cost of war. I have lived through the war with Voldemort and I don't want to witness another. I welcome peace. But for that, I cannot limit myself to Magical Britain alone. I need allies internationally."
"You've had these ideas since you were a small child. What makes you think this is the right course of action?"
"I just have this feeling," said Harry earnestly. "It's the whispers in my head saying that I'm doing the right thing. I'm inclined to trust them."
Alfred smiled. "I have raised you since you were a seven-year-old boy, Harry," said the ghost softly, "and I've always known that you were meant for great things. You have it in you to become a leader. Listen to your heart, it won't lead you astray. Do not try to change the present based on what you know of the future. The future is always in motion, and by doing things to change it, you might create a self-fulfilling prophecy. You might create the very danger you sought to avoid."
Harry sat silently as he thought about that. His eyes narrowed when he spotted something strange about the ghost. "Grandfather, are you alright?" he inquired.
"You've always had a sharp eye," chuckled Alfred. He looked at the boy fondly. "My time has come, my child. It is time I moved on."
The teenager froze as he looked at his ancestor. "What?" he whispered angrily. "You're leaving? After a century and a half, you decide to leave now? When I need you the most?"
"It's not my decision, Harry," said Alfred sadly. "Ghosts are created due to a variety of reasons. Some choose not to cross over because they're scared of death. Others do so because they can't accept death. I chose to remain as a ghost solely to watch over my descendants until someone revives the Peverell Clan. I promised myself that I would move on only after I assured myself of my family's safety."
"So?"
"So, my soul never passed on at the time of my death," he explained. "However, my mission is now complete. I have faith in your ability to protect your family. My soul has recognised that. Hence, my magic is fading away. I will have to move on."
Harry stood stunned as his green orbs filled with tears. This man – this ghost – who had raised him, taught him, and had been the first parental influence in his life, was going to leave? He never realised that there was a possibility of Alfred moving on now that his purpose for remaining as a ghost was complete.
"Grandfather," he croaked. "I –"
But his words were caught in his throat. What could he possibly say? How could he thank the man for everything he had done? Harry knew that he couldn't have reached his potential without Alfred nurturing his injured heart, giving him the knowledge that would help him survive. Without Alfred Potter in his life, Harry would have been a pawn in Albus Dumbledore's game, and the war with Voldemort would have raged on.
"You don't have to say anything, my child," said Alfred, his eyes filled with silvery tears. "I know. Words cannot describe how incredibly proud of you I am. Your name shall be remembered for millennia, Harry Potter, and I'm ecstatic that I can call you my grandson. Fulfil your destiny, whatever it may be, to the best of your ability. Remember, no matter how dire the situation is, you're not alone. Goodbye, my dear child, and good luck."
A lone tear slid down his cheek as Harry watched his ancestor's form fade away, the smile and serenity still on his ghostly face. The teenager stood rigidly as he closed his eyes in respect for the great wizard – the one who had mentored him all these years.
"Thank you for everything, Grandfather," he said softly, his head bowed. "I swear to you that I will not back away from my destiny, whatever it may be. I will strive to make you proud every day. This is the solemn vow of a Peverell."
HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP
The aftermath of the death of Lord Voldemort saw Harry receiving several gifts from the people of Magical Britain, thanking him for what he had done to save them from the Dark Lord's wrath. Harry had instead given those gifts and money to Dolores Umbridge's victims who were now under a protection program which helped them re-enter the magical society. The Ministry of Magic was paying for their rehabilitation and sessions with a mind healer and also ensured that they got proper jobs. After her trial, Umbridge had been tossed through the Veil of Death for kidnapping, corruption and attempted murder – she had been responsible for sending Dementors to Nottingham to try to lure Harry out of the castle all those months ago.
Harry had also met his friends and they had thrown him a party at Greengrass Manor. Theodore Nott, for one, had been relieved that he had managed to survive the war without having to take the Dark Mark, even if he had been unhappy that his father had died.
Draco Malfoy had been conflicted because while Lucius had died in the attack, Narcissa was still alive. The sore point for the blond was the oath of fealty he had been forced to swear to Harry and there was nothing he could do to get out of it. He would be forced to be Harry Potter's ally in the future, no matter the circumstances. However, true to his word, Harry had ensured that Draco was not sent to Azkaban. Instead, the boy was forced to do community service at St Mungo's, which was a much better alternative than being publicly expelled and arrested.
As Harry had advised, Dylan had cremated Rabastan, Rodolphus and Bellatrix as per the customs of the Lestrange family. He had also been able to recover his mother's remains from a graveyard near his previous orphanage and had done the same for her as well. The deed seemed to give him a sense of peace he had never felt before. Dylan later admitted to Harry that he was finally ready to move on from that chapter of his life. He had accepted the fact of his birth and about his father's death, and realised that there was nothing he could do about it. All he wanted to do was move on.
The Ministry of Magic was also finally at peace. Sirius decided now to focus his efforts on how to improve the working of the Ministry and streamline it so that it would be more efficient. Redundant offices and departments would be done away with so that work would be smoother. Since Dumbledore's reputation had taken a beating since the attack on Hogwarts, Sirius managed to finally oust him out as the Chief Warlock and also the British representative on the International Confederation of Wizards, thus removing him as Supreme Mugwump as well. Madam Marchbanks managed to win the position as Chief Warlock while an old wizard from central Africa named Babajide Akingbade was elected as the new Supreme Mugwump of the I.C.W. Sirius finally got his revenge on Dumbledore as he took away the man's titles before his death, making Dumbledore die known only as the Headmaster of Hogwarts.
Nearly three weeks after the death of the Dark Lord, Harry walked inside the Hogwarts hospital wing and took in the sight that lay before him. Albus Dumbledore, the once powerful wizard, was reduced to being bedridden.
"Hello, Dumbledore," said Harry quietly, moving closer to the bed. "How are you?"
The aged headmaster looked at the boy introspectively. He had been informed about the defeat of Lord Voldemort at Harry's hands. Even now, it felt too surreal for him to comprehend. His gaze lingered on the boy. There were changes in Harry. He now seemed to practically ooze magical power. His bright green eyes had changed colour – they were now literally the shade of the Avada Kedavra curse. He seemed to fill the room with his mere presence alone.
"Harry," Dumbledore greeted him with a faint smile. "Come to say goodbye to a dying man?"
The teenager simply raised an eyebrow. "How long do you have?"
"A couple of days, I expect."
"The curse wasn't meant for you," explained Harry after a pause. "It was meant to keep Voldemort from detecting the fake Horcrux. Never did we dream that you were stupid enough to actually put it on."
"I was a fool," he sighed. "I was sorely tempted –"
"By the lure of the Resurrection Stone?"
Dumbledore looked away. "You invaded my privacy," he said quietly.
Harry's eyes turned cold. "You sacrificed my fiancée," he shot back, "all to protect Snape's rank in Voldemort's inner circle. I'd say we're even."
The headmaster sighed. "Harry, I was only doing what I thought was best," he said heavily. "At the time, I did not have a choice. I needed Severus to remain as a spy. He was our only link to Voldemort."
"And it was alright for you to sacrifice Daphne for that?"
"We would have most definitely rescued her later, Harry. I would not have let her stay in Voldemort's prison for long."
Harry snorted bitterly. "You still haven't changed. Even after Voldemort's death, after having the truth shoved in your face, you haven't changed. Do you feel any remorse for what you did to my parents?"
Dumbledore closed his eyes in defeat. "Of course I do, but you have to understand why I did it. Countless lives had been lost," he said before coughing violently. "When Professor Trelawney recited the prophecy to me, I had to act. Voldemort seemed unstoppable. What would you have done?"
"I would not have betrayed people who trusted me," said Harry in a frigid tone.
The headmaster smiled sadly. "You're too naïve, Harry. I have never claimed to be a good person. I knew from the time I was a youth that I was not the beacon of light as people now think I am. Sometimes, the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. That is the universal truth. Had I not activated the prophecy, Voldemort would have killed thousands more, starting another global wizarding conflict, just a couple of decades after Grindelwald had been dealt with. I know you. You would have done the same."
"I don't deny that the greater good is important," replied Harry, fixing him a penetrating stare. "If the leaders of our world don't think from a larger angle, society would crumble from within very soon. Sometimes, doing something unsavoury would actually be good. I'm not denying that. But you're wrong in that had I been your place, I would have sacrificed James and Lily Potter."
"I would not betray people who trusted me with their lives, Dumbledore. My parents and several others trusted you to lead them through the war. Unfortunately, you were too clouded by Voldemort's games to pay attention to what his actions had caused. Had it been me, I would have obliterated the Death Eaters – every single one of them. A single Fiendfyre curse would have torn their wards to shreds and engulfed their homes in minutes."
Dumbledore gaped at Harry in shock. "Harry, how could you even say that?" he asked, aghast. "You would have killed innocent children –"
"Neville and I were innocent too," spat Harry angrily as he moved closer to the headmaster. "Just because our parents were committed to fighting Voldemort did not mean you could make life or death decisions for them! They weren't your puppets! You thought the Death Eaters outside the inner circle could be redeemed, and that was the mistake that cost you the first war!"
"Harry, most of them outside the inner circle were coerced by Voldemort to join his cause!" exclaimed Dumbledore. "Not all of them were like Bellatrix or Lucius! Some were indeed under the Imperius Curse, and others were forced to do Voldemort's bidding. They were essentially cannon fodder. How could we use lethal spells against them?"
"We were at war," Harry hissed. "During wartime, such thoughts should not have been entertained. You could have ended the threat of Voldemort long before I was born. Do you know what your problem was? You thought only about Voldemort – his actions and later his Horcruxes, but nothing about the effects he had on the wider world. His Death Eaters were just as bad, but you never truly tackled that problem! Dumbledore, forget about everything else, had the Statute of Secrecy been breached irrevocably, we would have been forced into a war with the Muggles! You were the Supreme Mugwump of the I.C.W., and protecting the Statute was your primary duty! Why didn't you ever think of that?"
"Not all Muggles are bad, Harry," the headmaster said stiffly. "The times we now live are different."
Harry shook his head in disgust. "You're deluded," he snorted. "Grindelwald may have gone about it the wrong way, but he did have a point. Who is the Statute of Secrecy trying to protect? Us, or them?"
"You're treading down a very dark path, Harry," warned Dumbledore, coughing once more. The blood he spat out was jet black.
The teenager smiled thinly. "People like you always assume that those who see Muggles as a threat are a danger to the society at large, and you would immediately label us Dark Lords," he said softly. "But the problem is that you, Dumbledore, along with the rest of the world, are too busy ignoring the signs all around you, blinded by your arrogance and ignorance. I'm not Grindelwald and Voldemort. Rest assured of that. However, that does not mean I will sit idly by and watch our world get torn apart. If I have to convince everyone to open their eyes and see the truth, no matter how long it takes, I shall do so. No child shall ever grow up the way I did, the way my brother did."
Dumbledore gasped as he felt his throat contracting, as though someone was choking him. He turned to his right and saw a dark look on Harry's face.
"I really wish I could just snap your neck for your actions," said Harry in a low voice. "I wish I could repay you for all the suffering you have put me through. My parents, Sirius, my childhood, you trying to manipulate me at school, you sacrificing Daphne and Dylan – I wish I would give you back for each one of them."
Just when he thought he was going to die, Dumbledore coughed violently as Harry released his grip. The old man kept coughing, his lungs too weak to stop.
"But I can't," muttered Harry. "No matter what you did, you are still a great wizard, and I respect that. Besides, I've already killed you in a way, right? I've avenged my parents' deaths. I'm content. Goodbye, Dumbledore. May Mother Magic help your soul find purpose again."
Dumbledore looked at Harry's retreating back and mentally sighed in resignation.
I have truly created yet another Dark Lord, he thought. That's three times in a row.
First Gellert, then Tom, and now Harry …
Filled with guilt, the great wizard closed his eyes for the last time as darkness overcame him. Albus Dumbledore was dead.
HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP
Harry silently walked towards the entrance hall when someone grabbed him. With surprising speed, the young man turned and was about to cast a powerful banishing charm on the person when he stopped.
"Professor Trelawney?" asked Harry curiously. "Is there something I can do for you?"
Sybill Trewalney did not look good. In fact, she had dark circles under her eyes and she looked like she was having a seizure. Harry wondered if she was unwell.
"Professor, do you want me to take you to Madam Pomfrey?"
The Seer didn't speak. Her right eye was twitching as she spoke in a hoarse voice.
"The one with the power to restore balance has been chosen ... the one who has already fulfilled the terms of a prophecy, the one marked by the Dark Lord as his equal. He shall emerge at a time when the shroud of darkness is creeping along the horizon. The ones cursed by Magic have begun their path to chaos ... the balance shall be broken, the secret ousted, and a holy war shall end it all. Long forgotten allies shall emerge, for only two can there be that shall decide our fate. The one chosen by Magic, touched by Death, flanked by tigress and wolf, will be forced to restore balance, but should he fail, Magic shall consume us all. The Saviour of Magic has been chosen ... chosen to fulfil his destiny ..."
Harry stood very still and quiet as Trelawney recited the prophecy to him. His mind was spinning as he realised that she had given him a true prophecy. He narrowed his eyes as he tried to understand its wordings ... what could it mean?
The Divination Professor coughed and blinked her eyes repeatedly.
"Maybe I should cut down on the cooking sherry," she said to herself. "Oh, hello dear, is there something you wanted to say to me?"
He looked at her intently but finally shook his head. "No, Professor. Please excuse me."
Trelawney looked at him weirdly. "If you say so," she murmured. "Now where did I put my cards? Ah, here they are! Five of spades ..."
Behind a statute, Luna Lovegood was standing quietly, having heard the prophecy in its entirety. She would have to inform her grandfather about this.
This was what her vision was about.
HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP
Daphne narrowed her eyes as she heard the prophecy which Trelawney had recited. Ordinarily, she would have dismissed it as junk. After all, the woman was well-known at Hogwarts for making up fake predictions that never really came true. But she also knew that Trelawney had been the one that originally prophesied the defeat of Lord Voldemort at the hands of an infant born at the end of July to parents who had thrice defied him. So, there must be some truth to it.
"It does talk about you," she said after a pause. "You've already fulfilled the terms of her previous prophecy and were marked by the Dark Lord. But I can't seem to understand the rest."
"Tigress and wolf," said a voice quietly from the other side of the room. Dylan looked at them with piercing grey eyes. "That's us. Makes sense now why the magic of the Hallows was gifted to us too, huh?"
"Who are these long-forgotten allies?" muttered Harry, swirling the memory in the Pensieve with the tip of his wand. "And what balance is she speaking of?"
"Don't forget that she mentioned a war," said Daphne quietly.
Harry took a deep breath as he rubbed his temples. Just when he was out of the shadow of Trelawney's prophecy, she comes up with another!
"Harry," whispered Daphne, placing her hand on his. "Whatever the future holds – war or not, I'm with you. You're not alone."
"Exactly," said Dylan firmly. He kneeled down in front of his brother and placed his hand on top of theirs. "I won't leave you either. You're my brother, and it is my duty to protect you and Daphne, no matter how dangerous the situation is. And that means you'll always have me by your side."
A faint smile formed on Harry's lips as he put an arm around both of them and pulled them into a tight hug. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. The future was uncertain, but as Grandfather Alfred had said, he was not alone.
No matter what happened, he had Daphne and Dylan by his side. And that was enough to give him the courage to move forward.