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The Prophecy Revealed

Headmistress Vector gave them permission to stay at Hogwarts until Lysander was better rested and it resulted in the girls wandering the halls to become more familiar with the place so that they wouldn’t look entirely stupid come September 1st when they would return for the start of term. Vector said that she would have to give Astarte a test to be sure she was ready to begin seventh year before she made up her timetable come September, but not to worry about that. However, Astarte was quite worried, so Ermalene spent sometime tutoring her on things like the history of the wizarding world (“So that was the Harry Potter that was helping us?” Astarte was shocked) and transfiguration (“Don’t worry if your tea cup still has a tail, you’ll get the hang of it with some practice and at least it’s not furry anymore!” Ermalene said).

They visited Hagrid’s hut frequently and laid in the grass under a tree by the lake where they found, carved into the wood, a little heart with “Won Won & Lavender” that someone had attempted to scratch out rather violently, but apparently the spell which set the heart there had been stronger than that which had attempted to etch it out. They wondered what had happened to break up the couple that had once been so well involved they’d graffitied upon the poor tree. They met the House Elves down in the kitchens, too, and made friend with the head elf, Gronk, who had fur coming out of his big bat-like ears and wore teeny tiny glasses and little pants tied at the waist. He happily gave them cakes and butterbeers whenever they visited him and told them about the school and gave them little secrets on how to navigate it easier and more efficiently.

On the last day they were to spend at the castle before going with Lysander to move into a house he had purchased just a little way from his mother’s in Ottery St. Catchpole, Ermalene asked Astarte if she wanted to see the Hall of Ancestors. “I promised Dumbledore I’d go back anyway,” Ermalene remembered.

So they moved through the halls of Hogwarts, back to the corridor the Grey Lady had brought Ermalene down to the portrait of Cantankerous Nott who frowned and repeated that only a pure-blood could open the door to the Hall of Ancestors. Ermalene walked past the spot, turning ‘round and ‘round as she thought of the Hall and soon the golden outline of the door and the little golden handle had popped up, much to Astarte’s astonishment. She stared, wide eyed and gaping mouthed at it as Ermalene opened the door and revealed the long hall full of the history of the pure bloodlines.

“Hello? Is somebody there?” called a voice.

“Oh goodness, you’ve fallen over again,” Ermalene said as she saw Dumbledore’s portrait face-down on the floor once more. She pushed it up against the desk as Astarte took in the entire room. “Sorry it took me so long to come back,” Ermalene said.

“I understand that you were distracted by things of another nature,” Dumbledore replied. He spotted Astarte standing behind Ermalene, now staring at the portrait with greatest interest for she’d heard about Dumbledore during their tutoring sessions on the history of Hogwarts. “And I see that your mission to rescue your father and sister from the gorgon of the Great North Woods was successful.”

“Yes,” Ermalene beamed happily.

Dumbledore nodded, peering through his spectacles. “And is the gorgon dead?”

“No,” Ermalene shook her head, “Harry Potter helped us, being head auror, of course, and --”

“Harry Potter was involved?” Dumbledore looked quite displeased.

“Well he’s the head of the auror department at the Ministry of Magic,” explained Ermalene. “Of course he was involved.”

Dumbledore frowned, “Then the prophecy hasn’t come to pass yet…” he murmured to himself, looking quite deep in thought now. “But I wonder…” He rubbed his chin.

Ermalene asked, “Prophecy?”

Dumbledore looked up, “Yes,” he mused slowly. His eyes traveled with Astarte as she moved toward the tapestries on the wall and she spotted Ermalene and Lysander and herself on the wall and began following a silver line that led from her mother, Medusa. “There was a prophecy,” Dumbledore said, “That spoke of you and your… destiny.” He paused, watching Astarte closely.

Astarte’s finger moved from herself to Medusa Peverell Gaunt to Agenor Peverell Gaunt to Salazar Marvolo Gaunt to Morfin Peverell Gaunt. She paused here, for this, she remembered, was the name that Harry Potter asked her if she was a descendant of. She spotted Tom Marvolo Riddle II, Morfin’s nephew just to the right of the line she was following, and saw his nasty, snake-like face staring back at her from the tapestry. She shuddered and continued up the line to Marvolo Peverell Gaunt and those who had come before him, all the way back to Salazar Ignotus Slytherin.

“So my mum was right,” she whispered. “I - I am descended from Salazar Slytherin.”

“Quite right you are,” Dumbledore said. “A mixture of Slytherin and Ravenclaw blood resides in both your veins.”

Ermelene turned to Dumbledore, “Mine too? But how? My mum was in Hufflepuff. Headmistress Vector said so.”

Dumbledore said, “Her personal qualities were more fit to belong in the house of Hufflepuff, but her bloodline was of Salazar Slytherin as well as Helga Hufflepuff’s. See there on the tapestry, she came from a line generated from Marvolo Gaunt’s father’s twin brother.”

Ermalene went to investigate this truth and found herself at the end of another long timeline, this time of Slytherins.

Dumbledore said, “But these dual bloodlines are quite interesting… quite interesting indeed.” He mused a moment.

Ermalene turned back to the portrait. “What was the prophecy?” she asked.

Dumbledore hesitated. “Well Hagrid, of course, has the orb in his cabin. You’ll of course want to collect it and preserve it, but I remember the prophecy well.” He paused and cleared his throat and recited, “The House of Gaunt shall rise once more. The Heir of Slytherin then and not before; and Heir to the Diadem - not destroyed, still lost - will face the Gorgan at greatest cost. Both inherited their ancestor’s fears to face… One their destiny shall fight, the other one embrace: One Heir shall fall but there will be another - and at their hands will die the Other.”

Astarte and Ermalene eyed one another, then turned back to Dumbledore. “But… what does that mean?” Ermalene asked.

“Well of course the House of Gaunt rising again spoke of the fact that Morfin had not died without leaving behind a family that neither Lord Voldemort, nor anyone else in the wizarding world, never knew of. When and how is yet to be learned. The Heir of Slytherin would fall to the descendant that is most directly linked by blood to the paternal line… which…” he paused, “Could honestly be either of you. Because you are both equally connected to the pureblood line of Slytherin. There is no record which of the Gaunt twins were born first, and therefore no record of which of the two lines the title of Heir would have passed down.” Dumbledore paused. “As for Heir to the Diadem, that will be a descendant of Ravenclaw’s direct line, and again could be either of you because you are both directly descended of Ravenclaw through Lysander Scamander. It seems that the diadem that Helena stole from her mother was never destroyed by Harry Potter during the Battle of Hogwarts -- which raises for me some concern about Lord Voldemort --”

“It was a replica,” Ermalene injected quickly. Dumbledore looked astonished. “The Grey Lady told me. She’d made a replica to fool the Bloody Baron and that was what Lord Voldemort used to create his horcrux. The real diadem has been disguised but she wouldn’t tell me anything more, she said only someone who was worthy of possessing it would ever discover it.”

Dumbledore rubbed his beard. “I see,” he murmured. “Well. It seems that both Heirs will face the Gorgon, Medusa. From there, the prophecy does indeed become quite hazy, but perhaps it will become more clear over time what is meant. Perhaps one of the centaurs would be willing to make more sense of it, I do not know.”

Neither girl moved for a moment, both deep in their thoughts, and then Astarte’s stomach growled quite loudly and they realized it was probably dinner time and their father would be waiting, and Andy, who had been administered the mandrake juice the night before, would joining them all in the Great Hall that evening. It would be the first time they’d seen him since he’d been petrified. Ermalene stood up, “Thank you Dumbledore for all of your help. We’ve got to get down to dinner.”

“Wait,” Dumbledore said, “Please. One last thing before you go and partake of the delicious foods that the house elves have prepared for you.”

“Yes?” Astarte asked.

Dumbledore smiled, “Please bring my portrait back to it’s place in the Headmaster’s Office. It’s quite boring here as I’m rather tired of studying the pattern of the carpet.”

Ermalene laughed, “Sure.” She motioned for Astarte to take hold of the other side of the portrait and together they hoisted it up and carried it out into the corridor with them, closing the door of the Hall of Ancestors behind them.

The wind from the closed door ruffled the piles of papers and made the tapestries flutter slightly. One sheet of newspaper flew through the air, curling and turning like a magic carpet down the length of the long hall until it landed in the darkest corner. There was a portrait there, old and so dust covered it’d been forgotten in the darkness. A portrait that mused to himself, and then shuffled off from the frame to report everything that he had just overheard.