Dragon Prophesies

DRAGONS

Prologue

Of Dreams, Crystals, Visions, and Prophesy

Jade was known to have visions. Quite often, in fact. They had become such an ingrained part of her life she took no notice of them. She knew she was a seer, but she just didn't care. When she concentrated on what she saw, she usually didn't like it. Besides it interfered with her ability to play Quidditch.

When she touched her wand for the first time, she had visions of dead bodies. When she was being taught to use a sword, she had visions of bloody battles. While walking through the library one morning and running her fingers over books, she was transported to another library where it was the dead of night. People sat around her, some awake, some asleep. Books were piled high around them.

The next year when she was offered Divinations she refused it, taking Magical Literature instead. She blocked the visions as best as she could as she immersed herself in Quidditch.

But one day, the Divinations teacher spotted her on the beach. She was walking back from Quidditch practice and was on her way to the Grand Pavilion for dinner. Her fingers were on the dragon that was part her houses' crest, which was sewn onto her clothing. She stood as if frozen in time; her eyes were fixed on some distant point.

That night when she went to bed she found a package on it. Inside, there was a book, "Basic Crystal Gazing," and a crystal ball that just fit her palm. No matter how much she tried to push this ability away, she couldn't; she was curious. Setting the ball back into the box she flipped the book open.

"I saw you on the beach today. You saw your destiny. Maybe this will help it look clearer. If you need any help stop by my class and see me, Professor Cassandra Troy."

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On the other side of the world, Ron sat on his bed, curtains drawn around it. After a furtive look out into the rest of the room to make sure the others were sleeping, he pulled something from under his pillow.

It was a crystal ball, about the size of a baseball, sitting and glowing misty white in his palm. He had spent all his summer pocket money on it; he had grown tired of scrying. Water showed him only what it wanted to; mirrors were usually a jumbled mess; and air... Well, people looked at you oddly if you sat staring into thin air for no reason. Besides, scrying was for women and children. He figured that he was probably the oldest wizard to still be able to scry in the air. Most girls who could weren't able to after childhood.

He looked at the ball, then beyond it. A red dragon with golden horns flew towards him, flaming. In the corner of his mind he could see figures awaiting its arrival.

"She is coming," he thought, "And so it begins."

His friends thought he was jealous of them because they were Head Girl, (the most brilliant student to attend Hogwarts since Tom Riddle), and famous Harry Potter, (the Boy Who Lived), Head Boy and Quidditch Captain.

Though it played a small part, he was jealous because they weren't haunted by the future. He knew they all played a part. The Rival, the Maiden, even Hope. He knew the play before it was played out. He took Divination in hopes to explain it all; it had. Yet, he pretended not to see beyond the swirling mist, clumped leaves, and lines. He pretended not to notice that Draco's hand had no lifeline when he happened to see it one day when he was harassing Harry in the corridor outside the Potions dungeon. He screwed up the simplest spells as to not let on to his fellow classmates or his teachers his real talent.

He set the ball back under his pillow and dressed. He might not be the smartest or most famous but he did have the most talent. He hid it; it struggled to be allowed to fly.

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Draco sat up in bed. The dream had awoken him again. It was different every time, yet the same. There were the same foggy figures, brilliant light, endless darkness, and the distinct smell of blood. The dream had visited him since he was a small child, and once getting to school he understood it was his destiny. He took Divinations to try to understand it better. Unfortunately, all the crystal balls, tea leaves, and tarot cards only created more questions. Trelawney didn't help much. When she looked at his hand when they began palmistry she litterly fainted. The very first day of class when he looked into the clumped tea leaves, he saw the unveiling of a mystery, good times with new friends, and an enemy plot. Trelawney told him he was wrong and only wealth and good fortune was there. He slammed the cup back onto its saucer, breaking the handle, and quickly left the room.

The dreams came more often now, almost every night. They were more specific, too. He could see the faces of people he knew. But as soon as he woke, everything vanished but the foggy figure and the feeling that he KNEW whom it was.

He swung his legs over the side of his bed and opened a box on his nightstand. He drew out a crystal of swirling black mist. Again he was drawn into the vision. He saw perfectly clear faces, places, and knew the purpose. But when he drew himself out of the vision, everything disappeared.

He knew his destiny was close and drawing closer with every breath. It wasn't a destiny he chose or even wanted, not that he ever got a choice. His father had been choosing for him his whole life. The way he was supposed to think, feel, dress, act. Even his "friends" and House were of his father's design for him. He was filled with anger as he weighed the ball in his hand.

He launched the ball at the large oak door of his private room (a privilege given to Prefects). As the black crystal shattered and fell to the floor with almost a musical sound he wished that destiny could be shattered as easily as the ball.

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Hermione was researching ancient prophecies for History of Magic. She was reading through text after text in the library when she ran across one that had been roughly translated:

The King and Queen of Dragons will meet.

From the darkness, they will come.

They will rise in smoke and flame;

their mighty roars will sound as one.

Alone, they are black as pitch;

together, they are bathed in light.

Dragon souls will merge as one,

and others will join their fight.

The Rival will join the King;

The Queen will ride with the Flame;

Only with Maiden, clever, and help of Hope

will peace, over the world of magic, reign.

She read the translation over several times. It didn't seem too different than those she had read so far, but something made her read it and reread it. She took out a quill and parchment and wrote it down. She tucked it safely inside the pages of her copy of "Hogwarts: A History".