𝒍𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒉𝒂𝒛𝒆 - pjo x hp [₂]

xvi. wizard prophecies

𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐑𝐀𝐍 𝐔𝐏 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐒, 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐔𝐒 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄.

Raya's anxiety had reached an all time high, and she kept looking around as if the boogeyman was going to pop out at any moment. This had all felt wrong since the moment they arrived, but Raya didn't want to be the reason Sirius died. That was the only thing that kept her going.

Harry?" said Hermione.

"What?" he snarled.

"I... I don't think Sirius is here."

Nobody spoke for a moment. Raya was beginning to feel physically sick. She wanted to leave this place as soon as she could

Harry ran up the space at the end of the rows, staring down them. Empty aisle after empty aisle flickered past. He ran the other way, back past his staring companions. There was no sign of Sirius anywhere, nor any hint of a struggle.

"He was never here," Raya whispered to herself.

But if he was never here... then who did Harry see in the dream? Why was he lured here?

"Harry?" Ron called.

"What?"

"Have you seen this?" said Ron.

"What?" said Harry, but eagerly this time.

Raya turned to Ron, furrowing her brows at what he was looking at.

"What?" Harry repeated glumly, reaching the end of the aisle.

"It's — it's got your name on," said Ron.

Harry moved a little closer. Ron was pointing at one of the small glass spheres that glowed with a dull inner light, though it was very dusty and appeared not to have been touched for many years.

"My name?" said Harry blankly.

He stepped forward. 

In spidery writing was written a date of some sixteen years previously, and below that:

 S. P. T. to A. P. W. B. D.
Dark Lord and (?) Harry Potter

Harry stared at it.

"What is it?" Ron asked, sounding unnerved. "What's your name doing down here?"

He glanced along at the other labels on that stretch of shelf.

"I'm not here," he said, sounding perplexed. "None of the rest of us are here..."

"Lowkey reminds me of how they store the old prophecies at Camp," Raya muttered to herself, perplexed at the sight of the little ball.

"Harry, I don't think you should touch it," said Hermione sharply, as he stretched out his hand.

"Why not?" he said. "It's something to do with me, isn't it?"

"Just because it has your name on it, doesn't mean it's yours," Raya reminded him. "It's here, and away from you for a reason. Maybe you should leave it be."

"It's got my name on," said Harry again.

Raya's anxiety resurfaced as he closed his fingers around the dusty ball's surface. She knew from the moment he touched it, that things were going to go downhill.

Kayse squeezed her hand, sensing her anxiety and trying his best to reassure her.

Harry lifted the glass ball down from its shelf and stared at it.

Nothing whatsoever happened. The others moved in closer around Harry, gazing at the orb as he brushed it free of the clogging dust.

And then, from right behind them, a drawling voice said, "Very good, Potter. Now turn around, nice and slowly, and give that to me."