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Changed By Staff by nat_rulz
Chapter 4 : The Prophecy
Rating: 15+Chapter Reviews: 60

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You should never worry bout today or tomorrow,
For worry, my friend, will just bring you sorrow
You cant stop it comming, so don't even try
Tomorrow will come when the moon leaves the sky
It wont be so bad, study that glass on that stool,
for if you look closely you'll see it's half full.

(all but the one in the first chap i wrote. I love writing them but sadly there not too great-- keep in mind i write them on the spot)


Chapter 4- The Prophecy

Harry sat in the deserted Owlery, with his back against the edge of the window and his gaze upon the Hogwarts grounds. Not that he actually saw it, for at the moment he was too immersed in his own thoughts. He remembered what Hermione had told him and he shuddered. He had fled the library moments after she had told him that; Hermione had tried to catch him naturally, but Harry was too fast for her. So now he sat in the dirty Owlery and thought. He felt so overwhelmed and alone, like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders and no one to turn to. The weight was crushing him. Fate was a cruel thing if it would give him his parents only to make him lose them all over again when he returned to the future. He contemplated; very briefly, jumping off the windowsill and letting himself plummet down to the ground in order to end the pain he felt every agonizing day. He would never do it of course; he was just sorely tempted to. He wasn’t allowed to; too many would suffer. Because of the infernal prophecy, if he killed himself, there would be no one to kill Voldemort. Not that he actually thought he could win of course, but still, he was the only one who even had a shot. He heard footsteps and, expecting Hermione, he did not turn around.

“Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t realize there would be anyone in here,” a musical voice said. Harry froze. He knew that voice and it wasn’t Hermione’s. He turned slowly to see the younger image of Lily Potter – or really, Evans, at this point in time – standing in the doorway.

“That’s okay,” he said tensely.

She obviously realized he was upset because she approached him slowly. “Are you alright?” she asked kindly.

“No…no, I don’t think I am,” he said honestly, fighting back the tears in his eyes as she looked at him. She took a seat next to him.

“Why are you up here all alone?” she asked him, and Harry smiled very slightly. His mother was indeed a good person to comfort someone she had never met.

“To get away,” he said, after a brief pause. He directed his gaze back towards the scenery.

“From what?” Lilly asked delicately.

“Everything…everyone,” he answered.

“Wanna talk?” she asked kindly. It sounded like something Hermione would say.

“I wish I had someone to talk to,” he said after another pause.

“I’m sure you do. Your friends?” she suggested.

“They can’t help me, and besides, I’m new. The only person I really know is Hermione, and I don’t feel like talking to her at the moment,” Harry said softly.

“Your parents? You could send them an owl,” she said, indicating the sleeping birds.

“They’re dead,” Harry said shortly.

“Oh…sorry,” she said rather awkwardly.

“Me too,” he said sadly.

“What about your guardians?” she asked again, obviously keen on finding some way to help him out.

“They hate wizards,” he said simply, knowing that she would interpret this to mean that they hated him…which was true.

“Maybe another parental figure…a Godparent?” she suggested, suddenly struck by the thought. Harry tensed.

“Dead,” he said shortly, with a slight bite to his voice. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Lily bite her lip. She was obviously cursing herself for her lack of ideas.

“You can talk to me,” she said softly.

“You don’t even know me,” Harry said, slightly surprised.

“Well my name is Lily. Lily Evans,” she said, obviously expecting his name in return.

“Harry,” he said quietly.

“Well Harry, now we know each other. So what seems to be the problem?” Lily asked in a sophisticated voice. Harry once again, thought of Hermione.

“I feel…overwhelmed. Everyone expects great things of me and I don’t know if I can achieve any of it. I’m so different – even by wizard standards – and I never have anyone to go to when things get bad. Never have an adult figure to tell me everything’s going to be all right…to love me. I can never sleep; I have nightmares every night. So many people have suffered because of me…because of what I’ve done, or didn’t do. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg,” Harry said, the sadness building up in him.

“Looks like you’ve had a hard life,” she said sympathetically. Harry remained silent. “You know Harry, most people spend their whole life looking for something when it’s right under their nose,” Lily continued.

“What does that mean?” Harry asked, slightly puzzled.

“It means that things might not be as bad as you think. You never know what the day will bring, and if it happens to bring bad things, well, today grows that much closer to tomorrow with every passing second. You should focus on the good things in your life, and not wallow in sadness. Remember that it could always be worse; there are people out there that suffer more than you do. Don’t worry about what others think; just do your best and your true friends will be proud of you. When all else fails and things seem hopeless, remember that things are never hopeless; they just have a strange habit of seeming that way,” Lily said gently before getting to her feet and leaving the Owlery. Harry sat in the window frame feeling a lot better than he had before she had come, and he thought to himself that maybe things weren’t completely hopeless after all. He had seen darkness before, but now his mother had switched on the light.


Harry sat by the fire. It was nighttime now, and Harry had managed to avoid everyone for the whole day. He was looking into the flickering flames, humming to himself. It took him several seconds to realize that he didn’t even recognize the tune. Ever since his conversation with his mother, he had been humming this unidentified song. What is it? Where had he heard it? Though the tune sounded more familiar the more he hummed it, he could find no words to match. He went over the conversation with his mother, remembering everything from her beautiful red hair to her sweet melodious voice. It was then that the words came. They came so quickly and smoothly that had he not known better, he would have thought he knew them the whole time. He cleared his throat and without any embarrassment (though he did lower his voice slightly) he sang the words:

“Hush little baby, don’t you cry.
Listen to my nighttime lullaby.
Here for now and here forever,
I’ll leave you alone here never.
Even when I’m dead and gone,
I’ll be in your heart where I belong.
I’ll always be here, seen or not,
So lay down your head in your soft little cot.
Hush little treasure, don’t say a word.
Let me be your singing bird.
Close your small eyes; the night is here,
So sleep and dream well my sweet little dear.
Up in the clouds your mind will go.
What you will dream I can’t ever know.
But I’ll be in your dreams, so don’t you tarry,
Just go now in peace, my sweet little Harry.”

“That was beautiful,” a voice spoke. Harry turned to see Hermione standing at the portrait hole.

“Bit late isn’t it?” he asked, for she had obviously been out.

“I was looking for you,” she said simply, and he felt slightly ashamed for having avoided her the whole day. He had just needed time to think.

“What was it?” Hermione asked.

“What?” Harry asked, slightly puzzled.

“The song,” she said, walking up to the couch and taking a seat.

“A lullaby my mother used to sing to me,” Harry said. He had no idea where the words came from, but as soon as he said them, he knew they were true.

“How can you remember it?” Hermione asked him curiously.

“I spoke to her today. I went to the Owlery after you and I talked and she came in and I talked to her. Ever since then, I’ve been humming the tune; the words only came to me just before I sang it,” he explained, before realizing that Hermione had heard him sing. He blushed slightly.

“You have a beautiful voice,” Hermione said, obviously knowing what he was thinking. This only succeeded in making him blush deeper.

Hermione moved herself closer to him, and for a few silent moments they both stared at the fireplace, lost in thought. They were so immersed in what they were thinking that they failed to hear the portrait hole open a second time, admitting another three trouble makers that had been staying out late. The three heard them.

“Who is it?” James whispered to Remus.

“Harry and Hermione,” Sirius replied, peeping around the corner.

“Maybe we should go,” Remus said worriedly.

“No way! Let’s find out what they’re doing alone in the common room at 10:30 at night,” James said eagerly.

So the three of them moved as close as they could and listened.

“How did you cope spending the whole day with the Marauders?” Harry asked smirking.

“Oh Harry, it was dreadful without you! I was scared to say anything in case they met you and asked about something,” she said, and he knew she feared that their stories wouldn’t match up. Harry chuckled slightly.

“Can you tell me now?” Hermione asked him.

“Huh?” Harry asked her with his eyebrows raised.

“Don’t play games with me, Harry James Potter! I know you’ve been hiding something. I’ve known it all year! You may have Ron fooled, but you can’t fool me!” she said very quickly. Harry looked away.

“Please Harry? If you can’t tell me, who can you tell? Please? Maybe I can help,” she said, taking his hand. He tore it away from her.

“You can’t help me Hermione. Not with this. No one can help me,” he said with a slight edge of anger in his voice.

“Please Harry?” she said softly, taking his hand again. He looked into her eyes and saw the sadness there. Why provoke it? He raised his hand and touched her face.

“I don’t want to upset you,” he said simply, and Hermione made a noise of indignation.

“I don’t care how upset it makes me! You could tell me you’re going to die tomorrow and I’d still be happy you told me,” she said.

“No you wouldn’t; you’d cry for weeks,” he said, smiling fondly.

“I’d still try my hardest to help you out,” she said determinedly.

“You remind me so much of my mother. You’re sweet, kind, compassionate, and just an all-around nice person,” he said, and Hermione smiled sweetly.

Harry sighed. “Do you remember the prophecy? How it smashed?” he asked, giving in to her.

“Yes,” she said immediately, knowing that she had won.

“Well Dumbledore was the one who heard it. He told me what it said,” he said quietly.

“What did it say?” she asked curiously.

“It said: ‘The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not…and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives…” he said slowly. He was slightly surprised he had remembered it so well; in fact, he was quite sure he had quoted it word for word. Hermione failed to notice his faint surprise because she burst into tears.

“Please don’t cry Hermione! Oh, I knew it would upset you,” Harry said kindly, and Hermione threw herself at Harry, making him fall back onto the arm of the couch. She buried her head in his shoulder and cried. Harry wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly.

“It’s okay Hermione… please stop. I can’t bear to see you cry,” Harry said quietly, lowering his head to her ear. She tightened her grip on him.

“Oh, Harry,” she whispered.

“Don’t worry Hermione,” he said softly.

“How…how ca…can I not…worry?” she choked. Harry simply drew her tighter into his embrace.

“How…a…are…you sup…supposed to…to defeat Voldemort?” she asked, sobbing.

“Well I’m not promising I’ll win,” he said sadly. Hermione drew away and looked him in the eye.

“Of course you will. You’re Harry,” she said confidently.

“All I can promise you is that I won’t go down without a fight. I won’t let him hurt anyone I love; he’s taken enough from me. I don’t know what I would do without you and Ron,” he said. Hermione grabbed both his hands.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Hermione said simply.

Harry took one of his hands out of her tight grasp and raised it to her face, where he gently wiped away the tears that were left there. Hermione smiled at him, and for a brief second, Harry had the overwhelming desire to kiss her. He realized that he was pulling her closer and quickly changed this motion into another embrace. Hermione buried her head in his shoulder once again. ‘Strange,’ she thought to herself. She had been almost sure Harry had been going to kiss her. Stranger still, she wanted nothing more than for him to do just that…

“Hermione?” he asked, interrupting her confused thoughts.

“Mmmm?” she said.

“Thanks,” he whispered.

They held each other for a moment longer, until Hermione pulled away and yawned widely. Harry laughed and got to his feet. He held his hand out to her to help her to her feet. She took it.

“Goodnight,” Harry said, after a short silence.

“Goodnight Harry,” she replied, leaning in and giving him a comforting kiss on the cheek before going to bed. Harry touched his cheek briefly before tuning and walking up the stairs to his four-poster bed where he immediately fell asleep.

Meanwhile, down in the dormitory, three boys came out of their hiding place, having heard every word…

A/N: hope you liked it! PLEASE review!! Who want's to make me a banner?! lol... i refuse to give up! hey does anyone want to read my one shot 'Unsung hero'? please?? In the meantime tell me what you think of this one and Review!! -Nat...... Oh! Thanks Cam!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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