Five-Cassandra Trelawney
I believe that imagination is stronger than knowledge -- myth is more potent than history -- dreams are more powerful than facts -- hope always triumphs over experience -- laughter is the cure for grief -- love is stronger than death.
Robert Fulghum
Hermione was feeling really warm and bubbly inside. She was sitting in the Great Hall, surrounded by a big group of the younger members of the Order. Everyone was cheering as Ron shuffled unsteadily towards the table, carrying a huge plate. He set it down in front of her.
“’Bout time,” said either Fred or George (Hermione wasn’t sure which), “how did you come, by way of Australia?”
Ron’s ears went pink as he made sure the plate wasn’t going to fall off. It had a massive cake shaped like a book with ‘Happy Birthday’ written in large, if slightly wonky letters. The border was made from sixteen candyfloss-coloured candles arranged around the outside edge.
“I iced it myself,” Ron said shyly as he handed her a knife.
Hermione smiled and blushed. They looked at each other, not exactly sure what they were supposed to do. Ginny snorted, but turned it into a cough after Lavender stepped on her foot.
“Erm…Hermione, would you like to cut the cake?” Harry suggested gently.
She cleared her throat, tucking stray wisps of hair behind her ears. Ron threw himself down in the scratched chair to her right, grinning to himself. Hermione picked up the knife and began to slice the cake. Harry deftly swiped each piece onto a separate plate, and handed them down to people. Soon the room was filled with the sounds of forks scraping on plates and people chomping contentedly.
***
Hermione pushed her chair back. She shook her head when Harry offered her another slice. “That was lovely Ron, but I really couldn’t eat another bite.”
She was about to get up when Lupin came into the room. He looked like he was searching for someone, and started when he saw her.
“Hermione, could I have a word, please?”
Completely mystified, she jumped out of her chair. He beckoned her into a corner.
“What is it? Has anything happened? What’s wrong?”
He held up a hand for silence. “Professor Dumbledore would like to see you in his office,” he said in a low voice.
She opened her mouth, but Lupin got there first, “Don’t ask me why, but I think it’s something important.”
***
Dumbledore was seated at his desk when she knocked on his door.
“Come in,” he said, looking pleasantly surprised when he saw her. Almost as though he hadn’t just sent for her, “Please sit down, Miss Granger.”
Hermione passed Fawkes the phoenix and wove around the rickety tables, stacked with strange silver instruments. She seated herself on a comfortable chair opposite her once-Headmaster.
“There are some important matters I need to discuss with you. But first things first, happy birthday.”
“What?” Hermione had been so busy worrying what she might have done that all thoughts of candles and presents had been driven completely out of her head. “Oh, yes. Thank you, Professor.”
There was a mysterious twinkle in his cornflower-blue eyes, but the rest of his face looked deadly serious, “I trust being sixteen will bring you much happiness and prosperity.”
Hermione felt very confused. She wanted to ask what on earth was going on, but didn’t want to seem like she didn’t understand.
Her Headmaster cleared his throat and shuffled the parchment on his desk, “I want to tell you a story, which I think you will find very interesting.”
Hermione settled back in her chair to listen to what Dumbledore had to say.
“Some years ago, a long time before you were born, there lived a woman called Cassandra Trelawney.”
“Is she related to Professor-”
“Yes, she is the great-great grandmother of our Divination teacher at Hogwarts. I believe you stormed out of one of her lessons in your third year.”
Hermione coloured and tried to think of something to say in her defence, “Well I-”
“I think you decided her classes were a waste of time, and that she was an old fraud.”
All the blood that had recently flooded into her cheeks left her. How could he know that?She could understand about her leaving her classroom. The staff would have all been talking about it. But only Ron and Harry knew what she actually thought about Professor Trelawney.
“And I must say I feel you were right about your first accusation, but not about her second.”
“I know she made a prophecy about You-Know-Who and Peter Pettigrew,” Hermione mumbled into her lap, feeling mortified.
“Indeed she did, Miss Granger. But I digress from our story.
Cassandra Trelawney proved herself to be a remarkably able witch, even while still at school. You might be interested to know she attended Hogwarts, a long time ago. She also found that she possessed the gift of prophecy. Over the years, Cassandra began to understand her power. She also became able to sense when she was going to have a prediction. And even sometimes remembered part or all of her visions, which, as I am sure you know, is very rare.”
Hermione nodded, waiting expectantly.
“She was also a valuable fighter against the Dark Forces.”
“Wouldn’t this be before You-Know-Who and the Death Eaters?”
“Of course, but there were many evil wizards and witches before Lord Voldemort, as I am sure you are aware “ Grindlewald, for instance, or the Cult of Lleu Padraige. This particular group we were fighting against was the Dark Defence League, or DDL.
So, Cassandra sensed she would soon have a prophecy about Lord Voldemort.”
“How could she know who he was, if this is before he was alive?”
“Oh, he was a much-awaited figure. If you looked in an old book about Dark Arts, even before his time, you would probably find many references about him. But the DDL, we knew, would be very interested to hear anything about him. So we took great pains to keep the expected prophecy a secret. One person we did trust with the information was Cassandra’s so-called best friend, Grace Webster. She betrayed us and told the DDL. They captured her, so that they could hear the prophecy when it was time. It was very difficult to locate her, but we finally found where she was hidden “ in a cave. She, meanwhile, was being watched night and day by members of the DDL. As I am sure you can imagine, this must have been terrible for her.”
Hermione nodded. She could picture the scene vividly. Cassandra would be half-lying on a bed of grubby, musty straw in a dark and dingy cave. Hermione decided she would be very beautiful “ with a deathly pale, heart-shaped face, prominent cheekbones and a pointed chin. She’d have straight black hair, and a side-sweep parting. And then blue “ no, maybe green “ almond-shaped eyes and thick lashes. Cassandra would be watched by a small, sweaty-looking man sitting on a wooden chair on the opposite side of the cave. Hermione changed her mind, and made him look like Barty Crouch instead.
Cassandra was feeling very tired, and light-headed with hunger. She was too proud to accept the stale bread and hard cheese provided by her captors. The prophecy was coming. She could only pray that someone would rescue her in time. Cassandra thought desperately of them all. Would she ever see them again? At this very moment they might be hastening through the night to come and get her. Or still stuck without a clue of where she was.
Her guard was sitting very quietly. The rise and fall of his chest was the only movement. He clasped his wand loosely in his right hand, resting on his knees. But he was awake. He always was. And she knew if she tried to do anything, her guard would be up in a moment.
“What happened?” Hermione hardly dared to breathe, as though the fate of this woman rested in her own hands.
“She spoke the prophecy,” Dumbledore smiled sadly, “to her jailor.”
Hermione knew exactly what it must feel like…
Cassandra suddenly felt a tightening in her throat. She gasped, her temples throbbing like they had been burned. The prophecy was coming. And she didn’t know how to stop it. Cassandra glanced around the room desperately. Everything was over, all the plans and secrecy had been for nothing. While it had still been coming, there had been hope. That there was still time for a rescue. But now…nothing. The DDL would hear the prophecy, and after it was finished they’d kill her. She stuffed her fingers in her mouth so she almost choked. But Cassandra knew it was pointless. She’d never learned how to delay them. Her guard had noticed now. He relaxed back into his chair and surveyed her, with one eyebrow cockily raised.
“Oh, so you’re ready, are you? Took you long enough. Come on then, let’s hear it. I’m all ears!”
A scream forced its way out of her mouth. It was followed by a string of words she didn’t recognise. They came, slipping and sliding out of her mouth like gushing water. Cassandra tried to stem the flow but they wouldn’t stop. And she was spiralling down and down into blackness…
“Just as the last word of the prophecy died, her rescue party came bursting in. It’s difficult to know exactly what happened in all the confusion. The guard called for reinforcements and a fight broke out. Things began to go very badly for us. We had only brought about ten people. There were many more DDL wizards, and our side suffered very badly. I decided that we had to retreat. But she would not leave until her husband, mother and two brothers (who had come to bring her home) were safe. I got everyone out apart from myself, Cassandra and her family. They caught us, and she was forced to watch her loved ones slowly and painfully killed.”
Hermione wrapped her arms tightly around her. It was as if someone had poured a Freezing potion over her. She could almost feel it trickle down her spine. Seeing the ones nearest to her die? She shuddered, suddenly feeling much colder. What kind of monsters would do that? Hermione could only imagine what that would feel like…
Cassandra wouldn’t stop struggling, even though she knew it was pointless. The ropes around her were far too tight to be broken without magic. And she didn’t have a wand. Bitter tears of resentment wetted her cheeks. For one, glorious battle she had been a free witch. Now she was caged again. And this time there was no prophecy for them to want. Cassandra knew she would be dead before tomorrow.
The people from the DDL were lining up her family against one wall of the cave. They all had their hands bound together. She tried to smile at them encouragingly. This might be the last time she ever saw them.
One of the more important members stood on a chair to address his fellows. He raised his arms wide. “Brothers!” He cried. “I am sure you agree that we have had very little entertainment recently.”
The others all nodded.
“Because most of our time has been spent guarding that little vixen in the corner. So I propose a game. Here we have some members of the prophetess’ family. I am going to nominate four wizards, and give them one person each to kill, in the most inventive way possible. At the end we’ll vote on our favourite one.”
“NO!” Cassandra shrieked. “I won’t let you. You’re not going to. Stop it! Don’t even think about it. Help me Jamie, help me!” She spat at one of the wizards who tried to keep her quiet, and kicked the other in the shins.
“And so,” said Dumbledore, heavily, “we were both forced to watch Jamie, Sybil, Hector and Priam brutally murdered. As they were discussing the winner, I managed to steal one of their wands, broke my bindings, rescued Cassandra and fled back to the Headquarters.”
“Was she alright?”
“No,” Dumbledore shook his head sadly, “seeing them all dying, after all she had been through, affected her brain. She lost her reason. Cassandra is now living in St Mungo’s. She has little memory of her past life, and none of the prophecy.”
They both sat in silence, Hermione full of pity for this poor witch. What must it be like to be a stranger in your own mind? She knew she wouldn’t be able to bear it. And loosing her family…
“So her guard is the only one who can remember the prophecy?”
“No. Fortunately we had one stoke of luck that night. During the struggle, he was hit by a badly-cast Memory charm. He ran around the battle, shrieking different lines of the prophecy, until he was killed. I have managed to piece together all he said into some sort of order. Would you like to see?”
He handed her a piece of tatty parchment which looked like it had been folded and unfolded many times. Hermione picked it up and read the slanting, sloping words.
The Dark Lord shall fall
By the hands of the
Six Elements of the Prophecy…
The second will be,
Firm and steadfast as Earth.
He shall be born from a pure black Geranium,
And a red Lily from Muggles.
Waiting for the Light on her slow path through Fire
My fifth will run,
As deeply as Water
Condemned by her blood by the world,
Praised for her brightness.
A black and white rose intertwine.
It stopped suddenly. Hermione blinked, and turned it over to check the other side. There was nothing else. There were only three verses. She handed it back to Dumbledore.
“This, as I am sure you are aware, is not the whole prophecy, but it does at least give us a start. There are six people, representing the elements that will defeat Lord Voldemort. We are given clues to Earth and Water, and I have solved them both.”
“Really?” Hermione asked eagerly. “Who are they?”
“I discovered Earth a few years before he was born, because I knew his parents very well.”
She hesitated, “I suppose one of them was a Pure-blood, and the other was Muggle-born. If that’s what the flowers mean.”
“Indeed they are. His father had wizarding parents, black hair and a name very close to ‘Geranium’. His mother, on the other hand, was a red-head called Lily without a single magical relative.”
It took Hermione about three seconds to make the connection.
“Professor!” Hermione squeaked with excitement, her hands in two tight fists. “Were his parents James and Lily Potter?”
Dumbledore gave her something like a smile, “Miss Granger, you have solved the riddle.”
“So that means that Earth is-”
“Their son, Draco Malfoy.”
Hermione gaped at him, “What?”
“Brace yourself,” Dumbledore adjusted his spectacles, “for another long story…I found out what their son would be while Lily was still expecting. We knew Voldemort had also worked this out by then, so they went into hiding.”
“I know, and then Peter Pettigrew betrayed them.”
“Quite right. But, as an extra precaution, they agreed to swap their baby with another couple’s child, who was born at a similar time, Lucius and Narcissa.”
“B-but that’s a crazy idea! They’re Death Eaters! Their up to their necks in Dark Arts. Lucius Malfoy would just hand him straight over to You-Know-Who.”
Dumbledore shook his head, “I’m glad to say he certainly did not. Lucius and his wife have, for some years, been double agents for us.”
Hermione hesitated, then said, “I can’t believe it…Mr Malfoy was always so…evil and she turned her nose up at everyone at the Quidditch match. They really can’t.”
“Looks can be very deceiving. Believe me, they are no more evil that you are.”
“But-”
Dumbledore suddenly looked very serious, “Miss Granger, if you trust me you will trust them. Is that clear?”
“Yes,” Hermione mumbled, going very red.
“So, where was I? Ah yes, we performed charms on their babies to alter their facial structure and hair colour. This would stop it being obvious who their parents really were. Draco grew up in the Malfoy Manner, raised like the true son of a Death Eater. Harry lived at Godric’s Hollow until the night of his adopted parents’ deaths. Lily protected him as if he had been her own. He then lived with Mr and Mrs Dursley (who believed him to be their nephew) until he was ready to attend Hogwarts.”
“So Malfoy’s Earth?”
Dumbledore nodded.
“Does Harry know?”
“Oh yes. You may recall after the Triwizard tournament he was in my office for a long time?”
“I remember.”
“I told him then, but asked him to keep it a secret. I do not wish it to become generally known whose side the Malfoys are on.”
“Yes, I understand.”
“But aren’t you interested to know who Water is?”
“Oh erm…” Hermione hesitated. She’d completely forgotten Dumbledore had solved two of the Elements. “Of course I am.”
“I only discovered who she was a matter of months ago. I concluded that Water would be a bright, as in clever, Muggle born witch. Can you guess who she is?”
Hermione tried to think of all the girls she knew with non-magic parents. Eleanor Branstone…no, she wasn’t especially intelligent. Lisa Wong just worked hard… Pippa Yorke thought she was smart but that wasn’t quite the same thing. She shrugged her shoulders, “I have no idea.”
The corners of Dumbledore’s mouth twitched, “Water is you.”
“Me?”
“Yes,” he replied calmly, “is it really so surprising?”
“But I’m not…a hero.”
“Why not?”
“Because Harry’s the one who’s supposed to be fighting You-Know-Who. I don’t “ I don’t have a clue what I’d have to do. I don’t like doing that sort of thing. I just panic, like with the Devil’s Snare!”
Dumbledore shook his head, smiling, “Miss Granger, that was three years ago. I really hope you are wiser now than when you were twelve. Unless nine whole terms of magical education have been wasted, I am sure you are much older and less prone to panic now.
“What have I done which is better than Harry? Why isn’t he Water?”
“Well, first because he is not female, and secondly because I expect you will find the Six Elements of the Prophecy to be a team. I am sure there will be some people who are good at combat, but there are many other things to consider. You need someone to plan, to organize, a ‘people’ person, a leader and a peace maker to make a group function properly.”
What Dumbledore was saying made sense. But she still couldn’t quite get her head round it. That Harry wasn’t actually the son of Lily and James Potter. That she would have to work with Draco Malfoy and four other people to overthrow You-Know-Who. And that she was more important to the Wizarding World than she ever could have imagined. Hermione felt scared, but she was excited too!
“But Professor,” she suddenly realised, “no one knows who any of the other Elements are.”
“I am glad you mentioned that, Miss Granger. It brings me to the last thing I wanted to say to you. The only two people who heard the prophecy were Cassandra and her guard. He is out of the question, because he is dead, which leaves her.”
“But she can’t remember anything about it!”
“I know it is in there somewhere, Miss Granger. That is why I want you to go and see her.”
“What?”
“You, visit her at St Mungo’s.”
“Do you mean…now?”
“Yes, I have got a Portkey ready for you.” He took a heavy inkwell made from tarnished silver out of his desk. “When you want to come back just put your hand on it and say ‘Take me to back to Hogwarts’.”
“Hang on…”
“Put your hand on it.”
Hermione obeyed, “But why can’t you talk to her?”
“Because I think she will like you. Three…”
“I’ve never even been to St Mungo’s!”
“Just ask the Welcome Witch, it’s easy enough. Two…”
“But what am I meant to say to her?”
“Oh “ use your imagination. One…”
“No, please sto-” Hermione said. She was jerked off her feet and Dumbledore’s office disappeared in a rushing swirl of colour.
Roses and Thorns by Phoebe Gruzelier
Chapter Notes: Sorry for the delay! This took a long time to write and I forgot to take my notebook when I went on a 'literary pilgrimage' to Jane Austen's house in Chawton.
I have to dedicate this chapter to Jane Austen because she and her books completely rock!
Enjoy!