Chilled Legacy IV

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-lauralydney

Chilled legacy IV

Harry wasn't going to lie; he was taking it easy.
It was only his second day back to Hogwarts. Catching up with friends and teachers was the priority—a few pranks on Flinch here and there, visiting Hogsmeade, racing around the Quidditch field, grabbing some snacks from the house elves, and zero mystery solving.

All those wasted moments had, of course, only been his first day. Harry slept soundly in the Gryffindor dorm, never having imagined just how grave the snow plague really was.
It's not that he had forgotten the previous morning.
Whatever was behind this dark magic had to be a person. That was enough mystery solving for one day, right?

Maybe it really was just him wanting to take it easy, but a small nudge in the back of his mind told him that he wasn't all too ready to get back into the crime fighting action. All the friends he'd lost and mental scars he'd obtained made jumping into danger a bit less thrilling.

As was the life of Harry, more than one days' rest was enough before either he woke up and got to work, or the universe did its thing.

In the broad morning daylight, the young wizard walked down to the breakfast table, chattering merrily amongst friends.
The great hall was a bit chillier than usual, but Harry could hardly tell the difference. While the air might be cold, the atmosphere was warm with smiles, chatter and steaming food.
He sat, watching the various owls' occasional arrival.

Ron's owl brought him a letter. It was from the Weasleys. Deciding to read it later, Harry shoved it in his robe pocket, digging in to his eggs and toast.

Draco entered the cafeteria, not looking any better than the last time Harry had seen him. Though, one thing stuck out to him this time—gloves.
'Yikes. School must be colder than I thought.'
Guilt, like that of a student procrastinating homework crossed his mind before Harry waved it off (again) for later.

An owl, far too small to carry anything larger than a small book, flew over the students heads, yapping and squawking as he dove up and down in attempts to not drop the package.

A few students laughed and pointed.
Harry saw what looked like either a snow globe or crystal ball tied messily with strands of grass. The owl clung to its strange basket, but after passing the Hufflepuff section, its claws gave away, the ball falling on the Gryffindor table.

I shattered. Shards of glass flew and smoke filled the room. Students near the accident stood up instinctively coughing and complaining, only to freeze when the smoke began to take form.
The mist was familiar. Harry remembered the whitish-gray fog that had brought memories of a younger Syllabus Trelaway.
A prophecy!
In his state of shock and intrigue, a quick thought crossed his mind before the seer was revealed—please don't be about me. Please don't be about me. Please don't be about me.
A ghostly figure appeared before them. It was short with a large nose. Harry recognized it.

This was no human seer. In all honesty, Harry had no idea what it was.
Short and wide. Harry could be wrong, but it the creature appeared to be made of stone. In fact it looked as if someone had simply carved human features on a stack of boulders.
It grated against itself as it moved, and yet seemed surprisingly limber. Its skin was stone gray and unyielding with a thick mat of grass, apparently its hair. It wore clothes (also of grass) twigs and other natural object.
Is that thing dressed in moss?! Gross!

The eyes were the only thing Harry could not make out. They glowed a bright blue, unfocused and distant.
This was the same being that appeared in his dreams.
In a gruff voice it chanted,
"Your future is bleak!

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