Chapter 108
The students returned to their common rooms after the long day of lessons.
Albert, however, could not stop thinking about Professor Trelawney's prophecy.
He threw himself onto his bed, only to feel something unusual beneath his pillow.
Frowning, Albert pulled out a small folded piece of parchment. At first glance it was blank, but as he held it longer, he sensed faint magic woven into the paper.
Suspicious, he cast a revealing charm. Ink slowly shimmered into view, lines of hidden writing spreading across the parchment.
"Hey, mates," Albert asked aloud, holding up the paper. "Did any of you put this under my pillow?"
Harry and Ron were too busy with their chess match to pay much attention. Both shook their heads, replying in unison:
"Nope. Not us."
Albert's unease deepened. If his friends hadn't placed it there, then who had?
A chilling thought struck him.
"Could it be… my father? But wait! According to the original timeline, Father wouldn't even be at Hogwarts at this point…"
He shook his head, forcing the speculation aside, and began to read the mysterious letter silently.
The message was unsettling:
> Perhaps you're confused after reading this, and unsure of what to do. But trust me, I mean you no harm. I want you to know I'm on your side. I cannot reveal who I am; if you knew, the course of events would change. You can think of me as someone not bound to your timeline… perhaps even from the future.
Listen carefully. Please do not engage in conflict. If you die before your destined time, as the prophecy warns, Voldemort will triumph. If you fall early, he will achieve his goal.
Albert's hands trembled. The parchment slipped from his grip and landed on the floor.
He stared blankly, his chest tightening. The mention of his prophecy and Voldemort made the words echo with dreadful weight.
Unable to lie back down, Albert sat on the edge of his bed, mind racing.
"Damn it… How does this person know about me? About my prophecy? Could they really be from the future? Impossible! Time travel like that… it breaks all logic! But if such a thing is possible…"
The more he thought, the more tangled his thoughts became. His plans felt shattered, overturned by this cryptic message.
"Am I truly that important? If I die, Voldemort wins? But isn't Harry the one who's supposed to defeat him in the final battle? Then what does this mean? Argh—I don't understand anything anymore!"
Frustrated, Albert finally lay back, deciding to sleep it off.
"Fine. Tomorrow I'll start searching in the Restricted Section. I've got the key now. Hopefully I'll find something useful there…"
Meanwhile, elsewhere in the castle…
Professor Trelawney descended from her tower in a frenzy, her face pale with terror. Her steps echoed frantically through the corridors as she whispered to herself:
"I must tell him! I must warn him before it happens, before it happens like it did twelve years ago!"
She stopped in front of the stone gargoyle guarding the Headmaster's office and gasped out the password.
The statue leapt aside, the staircase spiraling open. Trelawney rushed up and burst through the door.
Inside, she found Professor McGonagall already in discussion with Dumbledore, the two of them poring over matters concerning the Restricted Section.
Dumbledore immediately noticed Trelawney's shaken state. His sharp blue eyes softened.
"Sybil. Sit. Breathe. Tell me what you've seen."
Knowing her well, he could sense this was not one of her usual dramatics. This was a true prophecy.
Trelawney collapsed into the nearest chair, gasping for breath. After a long moment, she finally spoke, her voice trembling:
Trelawney: "The righteous will gather around a great table… to face the darkness. But the first who rises from that table… will die a gruesome death!"
Her hands clenched the fabric of her robes, and she shuddered before forcing out the last words:
Trelawney: "The worst part of this vision is… is… that the one marked for death… is you!"
The room fell silent.
To be continued …