Chapter 595: The Rune Shatters and the Legend Appears
The Daily Prophet did not miss a single day for the next week.
Every morning, at least a dozen owls would punch through the curtain of rain
over Hogwarts, dropping sodden newspapers directly into porridge bowls. The
students had stopped gasping at the headlines. Now, they simply fished the
papers out of the oats, spread them across the tables, and read the worsening
news while chewing on cold toast.
[THE DAILY PROPHET] June 5th Edition: Front Page
LONDON STRUCK AGAIN BY DARK WIZARD ATTACK Reported by Barnabas Cuffe
At 8:20 PM last night, Dark Wizard activity was reported near the River Thames
in London. This marks the third strike within British borders in three weeks and
the first in a high-density Muggle area. Witnesses reported a massive explosion
near the South Bank, visible for miles. The Department of Magical Accidents and
Catastrophes quickly deployed Obliviators across three blocks. While no
casualties have been officially reported, a Ministry official stated privately:
"These are not coincidences; this is organized terror."
The Ministry has raised the national alert level to Level Three. The British
Representative to the International Confederation of Wizards will submit an
internal report next week—the first time Britain has been forced to explain
domestic Dark Arts activity to the international community since the fall of
He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.
June 6th.
The Charms practical exam was held today on a cleared patch of ground at the
edge of the Forbidden Forest.
Professor Flitwick stood at the edge of the clearing. He was too short for the
back row to see, but no one could miss his wand—the tip was permanently lit with
a cold, steady blue light.
During his turn, Sean performed a Shield Charm that went far beyond third-year
requirements, reflecting Flitwick's Jelly-Legs Jinx back at the Professor with
such force it nearly knocked the tiny man over. Flitwick caught the spell with a
flick of his wand, went silent for a moment, and then whispered:
"Exceptional, Mr. Green. You may conclude your exam early."
As Sean walked out, he saw Lavender Brown sobbing on a stone bench.
"Her mother works for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement," Parvati Patil
whispered to her sister, Padma, as they passed Sean. "She was drafted into an
Auror support group yesterday. Lavender hasn't heard back from her in three
days. And she still has Herbology tomorrow..."
Sean stood at the edge of the woods, watching silently as the twins sat beside
their friend, offering her a hug and a half-crushed Chocolate Frog.
June 7th.
The Daily Prophet arrived on schedule before the morning exam.
WEREWOLF THREAT ESCALATES: MASS EVACUATIONS IN THE MIDLANDS Reported by Rita
Skeeter
The Ministry issued an emergency notice last night as werewolf activity expanded
significantly. Multiple wizarding families in Yorkshire, Derbyshire, and
Nottinghamshire have been ordered to evacuate. This is the first mass preventive
evacuation since the Ministry's founding. A spokesperson confirmed 'substantial
evidence' that the packs are being coordinated by Fenrir Greyback. The
evacuation list includes the families of at least four Hogwarts students—two of
whom are Muggle-born.
The Herbology exam took place in the greenhouses during a torrential downpour.
As Sean reached into the soil to transplant a Shrivelfig, a sharp, muffled sob
erupted from the workstation next to him. A Hufflepuff girl had just received an
owl-note; her hands were shaking so violently that soil was spilling through her
fingers.
Professor Sprout walked over and knelt beside her, placing a rough, earthy hand
on the girl's shoulder. Sean couldn't hear what was said, but he saw the girl
crumple the note into her pocket, pick up her trowel, and continue filling the
pot.
The entire exchange took less than forty seconds. No one asked what happened.
Everyone simply pretended not to see the mud mixing with the tears on her
sleeves.
June 9th.
Sean was set to take his Transfiguration exam, but the uproar in the Great Hall
stopped him in his tracks. He opened his Magic Hand Mirror to the M-Net news
feed.
[GIANT ATTACK ON WIZARDING FARM: RETIRED AUROR MARCUS MCGONAGALL AND FAMILY
INJURED]
Sean looked toward the High Table. Professor McGonagall's seat was empty. Her
plate was untouched, her napkin still folded with military precision.
Rita Skeeter's prose was as venomous as ever:
The attack occurred at midnight. The McGonagall ancestral farm on the outskirts
of London was struck by at least three giants. The west wing of the main house
was demolished, and the livestock pens were leveled. Marcus McGonagall was
struck by a boulder during the skirmish, suffering multiple fractures. He is
currently at St. Mungo's. His wife and daughter were treated for minor injuries.
Professor Minerva McGonagall, who was on duty at Hogwarts, arrived at the
hospital at dawn and declined to comment.
Sean closed the feed and opened a private channel.
[Private Link: Sean Green, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin]
[Sean Green: Report.]
[Sirius Black: Respects, sir. The dunderheads at the Ministry are running around
like they're under the Imperius Curse. Voldemort is provoking them at every
turn, and they have no plan. They don't even understand the scale of the
threat... dammit all.]
[Remus Lupin: We've neutralized the giants involved in the McGonagall strike,
but it won't be the last. There are more tribes moving under the cover of the
storms. This is coordinated terror.]
[Sean Green: I understand. Sirius, Remus—keep the casualties to a minimum. Do
whatever it takes.]
[Sirius Black: Consider it done.]
Sean stared at the grey, rain-streaked sky. Remus and Sirius had been hunting
Voldemort's shadow since that night in the Shack. They were his hands in the
field. Through them, Sean could see Voldemort's descent into madness. The Dark
Lord was hiding, afraid to show his face to Dumbledore, but lashing out through
proxies.
It was a war of attrition. And people were dying.
Sean wove through the crowd. Most students were finishing with Divination and
DADA, but Sean and Hermione still had Muggle Studies. He climbed the marble
stairs with Justin and Hermione. Hermione split off for her own exam, while Sean
and Justin climbed to the eighth floor.
A crowd of students sat on the spiral stairs leading to Trelawney's attic,
clutching their copies of Unfogging the Future for a final prayer.
"She's seeing us one by one," Neville whispered as they sat beside him. He was
staring at the chapter on Crystal Balls. "Can you actually see anything in
there? I just see my own reflection looking disappointed."
"Nothing," Justin sighed.
The line moved at a snail's pace. Every time a student descended the silver
ladder, the others would hiss, "What did she ask? Was it bad?"
But no one spoke. "She told me the orb predicted a Great Calamity if I revealed
the questions!" Neville whispered.
Finally, Parvati Patil came down, her face glowing. "She says I have the full
temperament of a True Seer," she boasted to Justin. "I saw so much! Good luck...
you'll need it." She shot a nervous look at Sean and scurried away.
"Justin Finch-Fletchley!" The dreamy voice echoed from the trapdoor. Justin took
a breath and ascended.
Sean sat against the wall, opening his exam schedule. Twenty minutes later,
Justin returned.
"A disaster," Justin muttered. "I didn't see a thing. I just made up a story
about a dark cloud, and she seemed delighted."
"Mr. Sean Green!"
Sean climbed the ladder. The room was stifling, the curtains drawn and a fire
roaring in the hearth despite the June heat. The sickly-sweet incense made
Sean's head swim. He wove past the mismatched furniture to where Professor
Trelawney sat behind a massive crystal ball.
"Hello, dear," she whispered. "Look into the orb... look deep... tell me what
the resonances show you..."
Sean leaned over the glass. He saw only swirling white mist. He thought of his
own system status—the massive red [LEGENDARY] talent for Divination. He thought
of his "Inner Eye."
Can I see anything outside the Lands Between? he wondered. Can I see the next
strike?
"Well?" Trelawney prompted softly. "What do you see, Mr. Green?"
Sean peered for a long time. Nothing. He let out a nearly silent sigh and
prepared to make up a convincing lie.
But then, Professor Trelawney went rigid.
Her eyes went blank, her jaw dropped, and her posture became unnervingly stiff.
Sean froze. Is she... again?
He stood perfectly still as the harsh, grating voice—completely unlike her
own—filled the room.
"The lines of the world are blurred... the ancient things return... they are no
longer cold stone and deep carvings... the mist draws closer, and his will shall
be obeyed in the hour of greatest need... thus, the Void Rune shatters and the
Legend appears..."
Trelawney's head slumped onto her chest. She let out a soft, gurgling snore.
Then, her head snapped back up.
"Did I... fall asleep again?" she muttered, looking flustered. "My apologies,
dear. Your exam was just now, wasn't it? Oh... I suspect that will be a perfect
score..."
Sean left the attic in a daze.
Another prophecy.
His Centaur mentor had told him that the "tragedies of ants" did not interest
the stars. Astronomy was for the movements of the universe. True prophecies were
the markers of the world's shifting foundations.
Blurred lines... returning things... the shattering of the Rune...
Sean knew one thing: if the Void Rune was destined to shatter, he needed to find
out why. And he needed to find out in the Lands Between.
After lunch, Sean headed to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom for his
final practical exam. A substitute professor had been assigned for the
afternoon.
The man was hooded, his face hidden in the shadows of a deep traveling cloak. As
Sean entered the room alone, the man reached up and slowly lowered his hood.
Sean stared at the handsome, vibrant, and fiercely intelligent face. The man had
aged, certainly, but his features were unmistakable.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Grindelwald," Sean said, offering a polite bow.
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