LS&AB05
Title: Licorice Sticks and Aniseed Balls
Chapter Title: At the Coming of the Black Moon
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Pairings: None so far.
Chapter Summary: Prophecies will always be a constant in Harry’s life, no matter what name he goes by.
Comments: Time-travel. Yes, Orion Trelawney is related to Sybil Trelawney. He’s her third cousin, once removed. It isn’t generally known that he’s a seer, and he likes it that way, so he tends to tell no one but Eir about his visions. The phrase “the future remapped” is actually stolen from the title of Shezza88’s wonderful Harry/Lily fic (which I never actually got 'round to finishing... *facepalms*): I couldn’t think of anything else to put there.
Previous Chapter
Chapter 5: At the Coming of the Black Moon
That evening, at dinner, Harry was invited to sit at the High Table with the teachers. Dumbledore conjured up a chair for him at the empty place between Hagrid and another teacher who had been introduced to him as Professor Kettleburn - Harry immediately recognised the name, and the all-essential missing limb (currently only his left arm) that went with it.
‘Have you heard about the Werewolf Registration Act, Eir?’ Harry heard Professor Kettleburn ask the Potions Mistress, and he raised his head, listening intently.
Eir sniffed, put down her knife and fork, and took a deep breath. Harry winced, recognising the look on her face as the one Hermione got when she was about to begin a rant on the injustices of House-Elf treatment. ‘Dolores Umbridge,’ she declared, ‘is an utter cow.’
He blinked in surprise - it definitely wasn’t what he’d expected her to say. Professor Kettleburn and Hagrid looked to be hanging on to her every word, and Professor Dumbledore was listening politely with his head inclined. The other professors were either talking amongst themselves or trying to divert the line of conversation.
It was effectively ended, though, when Professor Sprout said sympathetically, ‘Poor Lupin,’ and then added, ‘Now, then, Eir - you said you needed more aconite, didn’t you? I’ll need to know how much…’
And they began an enthusiastic discussion about the uses of various magical plants in potion making. Harry himself somehow managed to get on to the subject of dragons, and spent the rest of dinner regaling Hagrid and Professor Kettleburn with the tale of a kind man he’d known who had once tried to raise an illegal baby dragon in a wooden hut, and who attempted to cross-breed a fire-crab and a manticore with surprising results.
-------
‘Professor?’ he asked Eir when they finally returned to her rooms in the dungeons.
She made a vague “hmm?” noise without looking up from her book, which Harry took as an invitation to continue. He said, ‘Why do you keep giving me strange looks?’
He saw her stiffen, almost unnoticeably, and put down her book and looked up, saying, ‘What strange looks?’ with almost Gryffindor-ish obviousness.
He rolled his eyes. ‘Like when I decided to call myself “Harry Blackmoon”, and you gave me this look that was really…’ he floundered for the right word, but eventually had to settle resignedly for “strange”.
Eir laughed the same mocking laugh that she’d not been able to contain in Diagon Alley, except that this time she didn’t even bother to try. Harry scowled, and snapped, ‘Well?’ in an irritated tone.
She stopped laughing abruptly at his question, and looked sombre. Sighing, she got to her feet and trudged into her sleeping quarters, returning soon with a piece of parchment in her hand. Flopping back down in her armchair, she asked, ‘Why did you choose the name Blackmoon?’
Harry frowned, not expecting the question. ‘After Sirius and Professor Lupin - Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, that is,’ he explained when she rose her eyebrow at the first names he’d used for them. ‘But I really don’t see what that’s got to do with anything, though: it’s just a made up name.’
Professor Fleming chewed on her lip anxiously, and then said, ‘That made up name could be more important than you think.’ And she handed him the parchment she was carrying. ‘It’s a letter from a friend of mine, called Orion. He’s a seer. And a proper one, not like Janice.’
Momentarily distracted, Harry looked up and said confusedly, ‘Janice?’
‘Oh, right. I forgot that you don’t know her. Janice Maw - she’s the Divination teacher here.’
Harry nodded, and then looked at the letter. It read:
Eir,
I know I haven’t contacted you recently, but I am writing now to tell you about a recurring dream I’ve been having lately, much in the same manner as the others, so that you can pass it on to whomever you feel should know about it.
It was night, and I could see the Hogwarts grounds in front of me, with animals running around the place. And then there was a voice, though I couldn’t see where it was coming from. It said to me, “At the coming of the black moon, times will change, and under the light of the black moon, the Dark Lord will fall. The black moon approaches: the future remapped.”
I hope you have some idea of what to make of this, because I don’t - I’ve heard of a blue moon, but never a black one.
Regards,
Orion Trelawney
Harry scanned the letter twice, and then handed it back to Eir, muttering, ‘Not more prophecies,’ sarcastically under his breath.
Eir frowned at his reaction, but didn’t do anything else save taking the letter from his hand. ‘You think it means me?’ he asked her.
She half-smiled sympathetically. ‘I don’t know who else could mean.’
He nodded, more to himself than to the Potions Mistress, and they spent the rest of the evening just sitting there in silence until it was time for bed.
-------
The next afternoon was to be the last before the students returned for the new school year, and consequentially, Harry found himself once again sitting in Dumbledore’s office, facing a barrage of questions about his NEWT subjects, and other essentials.
‘… And I take Potions and Herbology.’
Dumbledore frowned. ‘Only five subjects?’
Harry nodded and answered, ‘That’s what’s expected in my time.’
‘The students usually take six, Mr. Blackmoon,’ Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling. Harry blinked.
‘I guess I could take Care of Magical Creatures, then,’ he said. ‘I got an O for my OWL.’
The Headmaster nodded, as if approving of his decision, and Professor McGonagall scribbled it down on the list she was writing, and then put down her quill and parchment, taking up the Sorting Hat.
Seeing Harry’s blank look, she explained, ‘I know you’ve been Sorted already, but this is just to make sure you’ll fit in in this time, too.’
His mouth formed an O-shape, and when McGonagall placed the hat on his head, he was happy to realise that it no longer slipped down far enough to obscure his vision.
Now, lets see here. Plenty of courage, and quite clever, too. I see ambition, definitely, as well as loyalty. Hmm…
Not Slytherin, Harry thought back at the Hat, though not as desperately as he had in First-Year, but stubbornly.
The Hat was unfazed. No, I suppose not. You’re more of a ‘GRYFFINDOR!’
Taking off the Hat, he saw McGonagall trying to hide a smug look, and he grinned, thinking that he must’ve grown into a proper Gryffindor - his Sorting had taken a lot longer the first time.
Next Chapter
Chapter Title: At the Coming of the Black Moon
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Pairings: None so far.
Chapter Summary: Prophecies will always be a constant in Harry’s life, no matter what name he goes by.
Comments: Time-travel. Yes, Orion Trelawney is related to Sybil Trelawney. He’s her third cousin, once removed. It isn’t generally known that he’s a seer, and he likes it that way, so he tends to tell no one but Eir about his visions. The phrase “the future remapped” is actually stolen from the title of Shezza88’s wonderful Harry/Lily fic (which I never actually got 'round to finishing... *facepalms*): I couldn’t think of anything else to put there.
Previous Chapter
Chapter 5: At the Coming of the Black Moon
That evening, at dinner, Harry was invited to sit at the High Table with the teachers. Dumbledore conjured up a chair for him at the empty place between Hagrid and another teacher who had been introduced to him as Professor Kettleburn - Harry immediately recognised the name, and the all-essential missing limb (currently only his left arm) that went with it.
‘Have you heard about the Werewolf Registration Act, Eir?’ Harry heard Professor Kettleburn ask the Potions Mistress, and he raised his head, listening intently.
Eir sniffed, put down her knife and fork, and took a deep breath. Harry winced, recognising the look on her face as the one Hermione got when she was about to begin a rant on the injustices of House-Elf treatment. ‘Dolores Umbridge,’ she declared, ‘is an utter cow.’
He blinked in surprise - it definitely wasn’t what he’d expected her to say. Professor Kettleburn and Hagrid looked to be hanging on to her every word, and Professor Dumbledore was listening politely with his head inclined. The other professors were either talking amongst themselves or trying to divert the line of conversation.
It was effectively ended, though, when Professor Sprout said sympathetically, ‘Poor Lupin,’ and then added, ‘Now, then, Eir - you said you needed more aconite, didn’t you? I’ll need to know how much…’
And they began an enthusiastic discussion about the uses of various magical plants in potion making. Harry himself somehow managed to get on to the subject of dragons, and spent the rest of dinner regaling Hagrid and Professor Kettleburn with the tale of a kind man he’d known who had once tried to raise an illegal baby dragon in a wooden hut, and who attempted to cross-breed a fire-crab and a manticore with surprising results.
-------
‘Professor?’ he asked Eir when they finally returned to her rooms in the dungeons.
She made a vague “hmm?” noise without looking up from her book, which Harry took as an invitation to continue. He said, ‘Why do you keep giving me strange looks?’
He saw her stiffen, almost unnoticeably, and put down her book and looked up, saying, ‘What strange looks?’ with almost Gryffindor-ish obviousness.
He rolled his eyes. ‘Like when I decided to call myself “Harry Blackmoon”, and you gave me this look that was really…’ he floundered for the right word, but eventually had to settle resignedly for “strange”.
Eir laughed the same mocking laugh that she’d not been able to contain in Diagon Alley, except that this time she didn’t even bother to try. Harry scowled, and snapped, ‘Well?’ in an irritated tone.
She stopped laughing abruptly at his question, and looked sombre. Sighing, she got to her feet and trudged into her sleeping quarters, returning soon with a piece of parchment in her hand. Flopping back down in her armchair, she asked, ‘Why did you choose the name Blackmoon?’
Harry frowned, not expecting the question. ‘After Sirius and Professor Lupin - Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, that is,’ he explained when she rose her eyebrow at the first names he’d used for them. ‘But I really don’t see what that’s got to do with anything, though: it’s just a made up name.’
Professor Fleming chewed on her lip anxiously, and then said, ‘That made up name could be more important than you think.’ And she handed him the parchment she was carrying. ‘It’s a letter from a friend of mine, called Orion. He’s a seer. And a proper one, not like Janice.’
Momentarily distracted, Harry looked up and said confusedly, ‘Janice?’
‘Oh, right. I forgot that you don’t know her. Janice Maw - she’s the Divination teacher here.’
Harry nodded, and then looked at the letter. It read:
Eir,
I know I haven’t contacted you recently, but I am writing now to tell you about a recurring dream I’ve been having lately, much in the same manner as the others, so that you can pass it on to whomever you feel should know about it.
It was night, and I could see the Hogwarts grounds in front of me, with animals running around the place. And then there was a voice, though I couldn’t see where it was coming from. It said to me, “At the coming of the black moon, times will change, and under the light of the black moon, the Dark Lord will fall. The black moon approaches: the future remapped.”
I hope you have some idea of what to make of this, because I don’t - I’ve heard of a blue moon, but never a black one.
Regards,
Orion Trelawney
Harry scanned the letter twice, and then handed it back to Eir, muttering, ‘Not more prophecies,’ sarcastically under his breath.
Eir frowned at his reaction, but didn’t do anything else save taking the letter from his hand. ‘You think it means me?’ he asked her.
She half-smiled sympathetically. ‘I don’t know who else could mean.’
He nodded, more to himself than to the Potions Mistress, and they spent the rest of the evening just sitting there in silence until it was time for bed.
-------
The next afternoon was to be the last before the students returned for the new school year, and consequentially, Harry found himself once again sitting in Dumbledore’s office, facing a barrage of questions about his NEWT subjects, and other essentials.
‘… And I take Potions and Herbology.’
Dumbledore frowned. ‘Only five subjects?’
Harry nodded and answered, ‘That’s what’s expected in my time.’
‘The students usually take six, Mr. Blackmoon,’ Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling. Harry blinked.
‘I guess I could take Care of Magical Creatures, then,’ he said. ‘I got an O for my OWL.’
The Headmaster nodded, as if approving of his decision, and Professor McGonagall scribbled it down on the list she was writing, and then put down her quill and parchment, taking up the Sorting Hat.
Seeing Harry’s blank look, she explained, ‘I know you’ve been Sorted already, but this is just to make sure you’ll fit in in this time, too.’
His mouth formed an O-shape, and when McGonagall placed the hat on his head, he was happy to realise that it no longer slipped down far enough to obscure his vision.
Now, lets see here. Plenty of courage, and quite clever, too. I see ambition, definitely, as well as loyalty. Hmm…
Not Slytherin, Harry thought back at the Hat, though not as desperately as he had in First-Year, but stubbornly.
The Hat was unfazed. No, I suppose not. You’re more of a ‘GRYFFINDOR!’
Taking off the Hat, he saw McGonagall trying to hide a smug look, and he grinned, thinking that he must’ve grown into a proper Gryffindor - his Sorting had taken a lot longer the first time.
Next Chapter