Chapter 124: A Prophecy Concerning the Statute of Secrecy
"To be honest, today's prophecy is a bit strange," Ryan said, choosing his words carefully.
Please, no more strange prophecies. Upon hearing those words, Dumbledore's hands, which were clasped on the desk, had a subconscious, stress-induced reaction—an urge to draw the Elder Wand. It didn't matter who he pointed it at; he just wanted to hold it in his hand, as if its presence alone could calm his nerves.
But a stress reaction was one thing; listening to the prophecy and figuring out how to deal with it was another. Burying his head in the sand was not an option. The world, as it was, did not give Dumbled in the sand. He had no choice but to listen.
"To be precise, there are two prophecies, both concerning the same location," Ryan continued. He thought back to the intel that had refreshed over the past two mornings and felt that this strange world was about to throw another major event his way.
The first piece of intel showed a vision of Paris, the city of romance, right in front of the famous Eiffel Tower.
"The path of man and the path of man intersect; only the path of God and the path of man do not. From separation and isolation to weaving and fusion, the stage is set, and time sounds the alarm."
After relaying this prophecy, Ryan observed the Headmaster's expression, marveling at his incredible composure. Dumbledore's face was a perfect mask.
From separation to fusion... Merlin's beard, that's about the Statute of Secrecy! Dumbledore couldn't believe his schedule for the year had become so packed. From the placid expression on his face, one would never guess how many tiny figures were frantically screaming inside his head. From protecting the Philosopher's Stone and monitoring Quirrell, to the Order of Merlin ceremony, and then immediately capturing Voldemort—and now, the potential collapse of the Statute of Secrecy!
What a delightful surprise. He didn't need a translator to know this was what one would call a surprise.
"So, the Statute of Secrecy..." Dumbledore said, keeping his voice even. "Alright. Tolerable. What's the next one?"
The Headmaster is taking this remarkably well, Ryan thought, relieved. Every faction needed a steady, seasoned leader. He proceeded to share the second prophecy.
The image was the same location as the first, but the perspective was different. This time, the view was from mid-air, at night. The sky was clear and cloudless, with a crescent moon hanging high above the upper section of the metal tower.
"Laws, principles, and morals are made to restrain those who can be restrained. But for the desperate outlaws who have never been bound by them, it is not so. As they say, only the law-abiding abide by the law."
"And what does this mean?" Dumbledore was deeply puzzled. If the first prophecy hinted at someone performing magic in front of Muggles and shaking the foundations of secrecy, what was the second one trying to convey? And who were these "desperate outlaws"? Perhaps the imagery of the night held some special significance?
"What are your thoughts?" he asked the resident prophecy expert.
"Judging by the timing, the events of both prophecies will occur on the same day—this weekend," Ryan said, taking a sip of tea. He was just a weak, helpless student. What thoughts could he possibly have? He was merely here to follow the Headmaster's arrangements.
"This weekend? That's when you arranged to meet with Ralvin—" Dumbledore realized.
"Yes, that's the idea. I've heard there are some excellent restaurants near the Eiffel Tower. Wouldn't it be a good thing to go and see what's going to happen in person?" Ryan smiled. "There's no rule that says wizards can't go on vacation. Fudge's decrees certainly don't forbid it."
From the ordinances Ralvin had shown him, Ryan could clearly see the portrait of a man who believed that holding a position automatically granted him absolute power and the right to control everything. This was a Fudge he didn't recognize. The man who, two years ago, had been a stern Ministry official on the verge of expelling a student had transformed into the self-proclaimed "closest friend" of a certain Seer. Such a change was impossible without a politician's flexible mindset and thick skin. And politicians with those qualities were usually successful people; they shouldn't and wouldn't make such short-sighted moves.
Perhaps power had blinded him. A year or two of holding the reins had made him arrogant, and he'd forgotten who he was. Ryan had a reasonable suspicion: power corrupted the heart with terrifying speed.
"Cornelius may have indeed gone too far. It's possible someone is encouraging him. But of course, that's not important," Dumbledore said softly. "Let Ralvin and his friends do what they feel they must. I will handle the rest."
"Solid!" Ryan gave him a thumbs-up. As expected of the greatest white wizard of the century; his words carried immense weight. He felt as if the moment Dumbledore spoke, the matter was already settled.
"Are Mr. Gellert and Professor Flamel still working on the 'Master-Voldemort' project?" he asked.
Dumbledore was no longer surprised by the strange terms Ryan came up with. This "Master" designation, according to his star pupil, came from an interesting story he planned to develop once the video function was installed on the Communicators. In the story, a "Master" was a human who could control powerful beings in battle. Ryan had co-opted the term to refer to their plan to control Voldemort.
Dumbledore shook his head. "Ever since we captured him, they have been trying to find a spell that could brand Voldemort's soul, forcing him to obey commands within certain limits. Unfortunately, given Voldemort's current state and the sheer level of his soul, most spells are ineffective."
"However," Dumbledore's face filled with wonder, "they have made some very significant discoveries."
He stood up and gazed out the window. The sunlight streamed in, illuminating the face of a man who had lived for over a century. For a moment, one could see past the powerful white wizard and the towering reputation to the soul that had grown old over a hundred years.
Seeing this, Ryan felt a rare flicker of sympathy for his elder. Of course, it was only a flicker. He vividly remembered that during the several "all-nighters with the Headmaster" this term, he, the young man, had been the one who couldn't keep up, while the seemingly ancient Dumbledore had remained vigorous and unaffected. The man had the spirit to fight for the wizarding world for another hundred years. At least a hundred.
"What did Professor Flamel and Mr. Gellert discover?" Ryan asked, also rising and walking to the window. Outside, he could see students in their flying class learning how to... disco in mid-air? He was fairly certain that was not part of the official Hogwarts curriculum. It must be that some genius among the students had invented this bizarre flying technique.
There were only six cardinal directions in the world, but the geniuses of Hogwarts could pilot a broom in eight different ways!
Impressive.
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