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"And then I turned to leave."
Professor Dumbledore got to his feet and fetched a shallow stone basin, carved with Saxon runes around the edges, from the far end of the table that Heri had not noticed before.
"A Pensieve," he told her when he saw her curious look. "One for the use of the Headmaster of Hogwarts. During these times, it has found new use in aiding the Order in analysing information."
He walked back to where he had been sitting, placed the Pensieve upon it, and raised his wand to his temple. From it, he withdrew silvery, gossamer-fine strands of thought clinging to the wand, and deposited them in the basin.
He sat back down and watched his thoughts swirl and drift inside the Pensieve for a moment. Then, with a sigh, he raised his wand and prodded the silvery substance with its tip.
A figure rose out of it, draped in shawls, her eyes magnified to enormous size behind her glasses, and she revolved slowly, her feet in the basin. When Professor Trelawney spoke, it was not in her usual ethereal, mystic voice, but in harsh, hoarse tones that would better suit a mummified revenant climbing out of a sarcophagus.
"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 THEM AS HIS EQUAL, BUT THEY WILL HAVE POWER THE DARK LORD KNOWS NOT . . .
AND THE DARK LORD WILL BRAND THEM AS HIS ENEMY, BUT THEY WILL HAVE POWER THE DARK LORD CAN NEVER WIELD . . .
AND EITHER MUST DIE AT THE HAND OF THE OTHER, FOR NEITHER CAN TRIUMPH WHILE THE OTHER SURVIVES . . .
THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD WILL BE BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES . . ."
The slowly revolving Professor Trelawney sank back into the silver mass below and vanished.
"I didn't know Professor Trelawney was a Prophet," Heri remarked inanely.
The following silence within the dining room was absolute.
"Professor Dumbledore?" Sirius said very quietly when the white-haired headmaster, still staring at the Pensieve, seemed completely lost in thought. "It . . . did that mean . . . What did that mean?"
"It meant," said Professor Dumbledore, "that the person who has the only chance of conquering Lord Voldemort for good was born at the end of July, nearly sixteen years ago. This child would be born to parents who had already defied Voldemort three times."
"Hang on a tick!" Sirius protested. "It can't be that straightforward! I thought Divination was all double meanings and interpreting symbols! How do we even know which calendar we're supposed to be using?"
"Prophecies don't actually have much of a basis in practical Divination," Heri told Sirius absently, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "Divination involves . . . using your own power to actively seek knowledge not of the immediate present . . . whether from a different point in time or from a far-off location, so the clarity of the information you receive depends entirely on personal skill. Prophecies, on the other hand, are . . . direct messages from a higher power through the mouth of their chosen vessels; they may be confusing when they're out of context, but there's no ambiguity in the meaning of the words themselves.
"As for the timing, the calendar of a prophecy depends entirely on the Prophet and what they regard as standard. Since Professor Trelawney is a part of modern Western civilisation, her prophecies run on the Gregorian calendar, the current international standard."
Heri felt as though something was closing in on her.
"But . . . me? Really?"
Professor Dumbledore surveyed her for a moment through his glasses.
"The odd thing is, Miss Potter," he said softly, "that it may not have meant you at all. Sibyll's prophecy could have applied to two children as far as we knew, both born at the end of July that year, both of whom had parents in the Order of the Phoenix, both sets of parents having narrowly escaped Voldemort three times. One, of course, was you. The other was Neville Longbottom."
Neville? Heri didn't know what mystified her more, that there was a prophecy that claimed she was destined to take on a Dark Lord the world over was terrified of or that the other known candidate for the position was Neville Longbottom. Bless him, he had a lot of potential, but she didn't think he had it in him to kill anyone, never mind Voldemort.
"But then . . ." Heri started, "but then why do you think the prophecy is referring to me and not Neville?"
"The Department of Mysteries has a hall dedicated to the records of prophecies made within the jurisdiction of the nation of Magical Britain. The official record originally had no name down for the subject of the prophecy, but was relabelled after Voldemort's attack on you as a child," said Professor Dumbledore. "It seemed plain to the keeper of the Hall of Prophecy that Voldemort could only have tried to kill you because he knew you to be the one to whom Sibyll was referring."
"Then — it might not be Heri?" said Sirius, looking hopeful.
"I am afraid," said Professor Dumbledore slowly, looking as though every word cost him a great effort, "that there is no doubt that it is Miss Potter."
"But you said — the Longbottom boy was born at the end of July too — and Frank and Alice—"
"Sirius!" Heri cried, protest written all over her face. "You can't be wishing such a thing on another person! Neville's just a boy! What on earth could he do against Voldemort?"
"And you are just a girl!" Sirius shot back. "If it can be about someone else . . . well, you can be certain I'll be rooting for that option!"
Dumbledore interrupted with, "You are forgetting the next part of the prophecy, the identification of the child who could vanquish Voldemort. . . . Voldemort himself would 'mark them as his equal' and 'brand them as his enemy.' And so he did. He chose Miss Potter, not Mr Longbottom, for both his original attack, giving her the scar that has proved both blessing and curse, and for his attempt at a rebirthing ritual, which called for 'blood of the enemy.'"
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