A Harry Potter Fanfiction by
Disclaimer: Harry Potter et al belong to the wonderfully talented J. K. Rowling.
Who would want it any other way?
Dedication: To the girlfriends I always wished for. Wishes really do come true.
Prologue: First Sight
The future is the worst thing about the present.
~ Gustave Flaubert
"I have called this meeting to speak with you all about the tragic event
that took place yesterday. As you know, a student here at Hogwarts was
found dead in the second floor girl's lavatory." The Headmaster was
standing at the front of the classroom, hands clasped behind his back;
a tired, worried expression on his face.
"Is it true what they are saying, Professor?" one of the students
interrupted. She wore the plain black Hogwarts robes with the Head Girl
badge pinned to the breast. "Has the Chamber of Secrets really been
What little color remained in Dippet's face quickly
vanished. "Minerva, as Head Girl, you know better than to listen to
idle rumors. I need all of you prefects," he continued, looking out
at the young men and women seated before him, "to help in this matter." His
tone was grave. "We need to watch over the younger students until
we know that the danger - whatever it may be - has passed. As prefects,
I expect you all to help keep such gossip at a minimum."
"I know Professor, but it's just-" she began but the words caught
in her throat and tears were welling up in her eyes. "It's just, I
mean Myrtle is--" she sobbed. Minerva lost all composure she had been
maintaining and broke down.
It was Albus Dumbledore, the Transfiguration professor,
who went over to console her. Placing an arm around her shoulder he spoke, "I
know my dear. It is a very hard and emotional time for all of us." His
voice was gentle and caring. "What Professor Dippet was
trying to say is that we must remain calm if we are to keep the board from
closing the school. We all must remain calm." Dumbledore looked around
at the other prefects seated in the classroom. All had identical looks
of apprehension and fear on their faces. All, that is, but two.
One sixth year Slytherin, Dumbledore thought, had a look of trying to
appear worried. It was a peculiar expression. Looking at the boy's eyes,
a shiver ran down Dumbledore's spine. There was
something wrong there, something missing from those eyes.
The other student, a sixth year Gryffindor girl, just looked ill, and at that
exact moment he found out why. Quite suddenly, her head flopped backwards
on her neck and her eyes rolled back into their sockets. Her hands were
clawing at the desktop; her knuckles turning white. Then, slowly and almost
menacingly, she raised her head forward and immediately her whole demeanor
and attitude changed. As she spoke, the words coming out of her mouth seemed
almost removed, distant. Her voice took on an odd tenor as if someone else
were speaking through her.
"With the serpent has come fear and death, but know that this is only
the end of the beginning. For soon, a darkness will creep over the land." The
room was silent, all eyes on the girl "Fear and death will reign until
the coming of two. From the lion will come the bearer of the light. He
shall seek the other and prepare the way. From the guardians shall come
the keeper. He holds the key to unite the worlds. Only after blood fills
the land, shall the two bring peace."
With that, she collapsed. Several of the students rushed over to her with cries
of, "Sybil! Are you all right? What were you saying?" Minerva,
still recovering from her unusual emotional outburst, was looking toward
the gathering of her classmates not really understanding what had just
Dumbledore just stood there looking at the other sixth year student he had
noticed before. He could have sworn the boy wore some sort of smirk.
Professor Dippet gave his final instructions to the
Prefects and then escorted Sybil to the hospital wing. Dumbledore sat in
the empty classroom, immediately extracting a quill and parchment from
his desk. Quickly, he wrote down the words that the young girl had spoken.
He was quite sure that they would be very important in the future.
But he wasn't the only one to do this. Young Tom Riddle, the sixth year Dumbledore
had been watching with heightened curiosity, went straight back to his
dormitory in Slytherin House and copied the same words into his diary.