The Majestic

The Majestic

Laurence Ashton

Chapter One:

Glass

Harry watched, leaning back casually on a beanbag chair, as the new Divinations professor paced in front of the class. The professor, a short, curvy woman with color-treated black hair and glassy blue eyes, replaced Professor Trelawney, who had, the year prior, made a startling prophecy that locked her in a vegetative trance. Currently, Professor Trelawney resided at St. Mungo's hospital in London on a ward for irreparable brain traumas. So far, the new woman, Professor Stacy Augura, seemed less batty and fraudulent than Trelawney, who'd only had a handful of true prophecies anyway.

"This year," said Professor Augura, giving everyone a brilliant smile, "our lessons will focus on Prophecy. The first half of the year we will spend analyzing prophecies. For the second half, we will each hone our focuses, and perhaps we will come up with prophecies of our own." She smiled at Ron and Harry, where they sat in the back, briefly. "Don't worry. Prophesying is a difficult skill that requires taxing attention to detail and deftness when it comes to manipulating magical weaves. I don't expect each of you to succeed in this area, and your grades won't suffer for it."

"That's different," whispered Ron in Harry's ear. Harry nodded his agreement. A lot had changed from Trelawney's reign of boredom. Gone were the annoying doilies and uncomfortably wooden chairs. The fire that Trelawney continually blared was sealed off unless specifically required (or wanted, for winter weather), and the windows had been thrown open to allow in light and fresh air. Incense no longer clouded the room with heavy, stinking smoke. And... unfortunately, Slytherins and Gryffindors took Divinations together.

In place of Trelawney's clashing chaos, everything new was simple, plain, and efficient. Some things were even attractive in their simplicity. And Professor Augura explained that too much color, shape, or discomfort would lessen their focus, a pivotal part of divining.

"First we'll start with Serpentine Prophets," Augura told the class. "These are often very complicated, but I think you can handle them. They should be fun to decipher as well -- I know I loved working with them when I went through my training -- and you just might learn something! What do you say? If we're having too much trouble off the bat, we can shelve them and come back to them later in the term." Harry could definitely say that the new professor was a perky one. "Alright, then, I'm going to assign Gryffindor-Slytherin divining partnerships, and you'll work together in these groups of four until the end of the year, okay? Now, let's break into pairs...."

Harry listened attentively for his name, silently praying that he wouldn't get stuck with Malfoy for a year. Teddy Nott's not so bad, he thought desperately. He doesn't even hang about with Malfoy and his gang, so....

"Messrs. Malfoy, Potter, Weasley, and Zabini," said Augura cheerfully. "You'll take the last table, right here!" Each of the four boys groaned, exchanging hateful glances as they reluctantly moved to sit at the table near the front, right beside the window. "Now, now," Augura said, mildly scolding them. "You might find that you like each other. Wouldn't that be spiffy?"

"Not bloody likely," Malfoy muttered angrily. "Bloody stupid Dumbledore. I didn't even sign up for this useless class."

"But I thought you said--"

"Shut up, Blaise!" Malfoy hissed, punching the other boy in the arm. Blaise sneered, rubbing the sore spot, but didn't retaliate since the professor called attention. Ron snickered, and Harry tried his best to ignore all of them.

"The first prophecy we'll be looking at is God of Glass." She walked around the room delivering a single parchment to each table. "I translated this from the original Elvish when I was in training with Madame Sophie Bonifay. It should be a rather simple and familiar one to get the ball rolling, so to speak."

Harry picked up the paper from the table and studied it. Malfoy and Blaise came around to Harry and Ron's side of the table to look over his shoulder at it. Harry could feel Malfoy's body heat pressing into him, searing. It felt strange, as Harry always thought of Malfoy as ice, cold and burning at once, surrounded by a sharp chill. He did not like this reminder that the whiny prat was actually human, or was as human as the hot blood coursing through him.

When all fall,

when all shatter,

when light consumes,

the God of Glass is of stone.

Mountain may crack,

foundations may clatter,

flashes will blind,

but the God of Glass is of stone.

Death devours and

consumes that which matters

and all will succumb to the staff,

but the God of Glass will live on.

When each person in the room had looked up at her again, Professor Augura said, "What does it sound like the Serpentine Prophet is prophesying?"

Malfoy sneered and called out, "It sounds like more Potter-is-a-hero bullshit to me, professor." The professor looked at him with both eyebrows raised, and he leaned back in his seat to sulk. "It's too familiar and too easy. Perhaps you mistook us for third years?"

Some of the Slytherins snorted in amusement, but the professor ignored them all, and smiled at Malfoy with her ever present, annoying mirth. "Ah! I see why the Headmaster reassigned you to my class. You've got a sharp mind for prophecies, Mr. Malfoy. Would you care to give us an analysis?"

"Not really."

"Mr. Malfoy, your gift is a--"

"It's not a bloody gift!" he shouted. "It was an accident -- a freak accident, a fluke even, but not a gift!" Malfoy snatched the parchment out of Harry's hand and plopped in his seat, pouting. "Obviously the Prophet uses irony in called the Boy-Who-Lived the 'God of Glass,' although I think the irony is thicker, because of Potter's delicate sensibilities and his rather bloated, fragile ego--"

"Without the running commentary!" snapped Harry angrily. Professor Augura nodded her alliance with Harry on the issue and Malfoy sulked some more.

"Fine then, I'll be brutally honest, and nothing more," he said coldly. "The first line references, of course, Voldemort's--" shocked gasps filled the room, and Malfoy smirked maliciously, "Voldemort's initial reign of terror. At this time, the world fell into the machinations of the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord... Voldemort," again the surprised murmuring, "had managed to access the Ancient vein and shatter it, giving him a power unmatched and the ability to manipulate some of the lesser abilities of the Fair. During these dark times, Avada Kedrava," people were turning red in the face by now, "the Killing Curse, was used a record-breaking 500 plus times. Magic, unfortunately, was preparing for ickle Potter, here, to be born and be to stupid to realize he was supposed to die."

"WHY YOU LITTLE--" Ron began, spluttering, as he reached across the table to Malfoy. Harry grabbed his harm and hauled him back into his seat, and Ron turned to splutter at him instead.

"Mr. Malfoy, please refrain from including personal opinions in your scientific analysis."

"With all due respect, Professor," said Malfoy, clearly implying that he gave none, "I am quite familiar with the scientific process and to the circumstances to which it can be applied, even loosely. Divination doesn't stand among them, sorry." Professor Augura smiled at him again, so damn merry that it was unnerving, and Malfoy scowled and turned back to the parchment. "The second verse references the deterioration of Ministry's abilities to resist the Voldemort threat, and I am willing to assume that you are all not so stupid as to warrant actually explaining how." Professor Augura smirked at him, and a few of the Slytherins chuckled. "Obviously, that last line talks about the Potters' deaths and the Dark Lord's hands and Potter's miraculous display of stupidity which many morons have taken as a sign of the Dark Lord's defeat."

Professor Augura looked rather pleased. "Ten points to Slytherin, then," she said. Then she addressed the whole class. "For homework, you'll write a formal analysis of the prophecy, as Mr. Malfoy displayed. Then, during our next class, we'll start on a Hogwarts specific prophecy. I think you'll find it very interesting." She glanced at her wristwatch. "Well, we've only got a few moments left, so I think I'll let you all out for lunch."

Malfoy grabbed his bag up viciously and pushed Neville out of his way as he stormed from the room. Pansy Parkinson went darting after him, loudly demanding to know what was wrong, and Blaise Zabini followed after at a slower pace, smirking in amusement to himself.

"That prat!" Ron fumed, as he and Harry packed their bags and started down to lunch. "Are you all right, mate? I mean, Malfoy said some pretty nasty things, back there and--"

"They were just words, Ron," said Harry. "Draco.... Malfoy doesn't really bother me anymore, to tell you the truth."

Ron looked at Harry as if he'd grown a second head and sprouted extra limbs. Harry tried not to roll his eyes, and wished that Ron would grow up and get over his petty rivalry with Malfoy. They had more important things to worry about.

Harry, Ron and Hermione sat together at the head of the Gryffindor table for lunch. Ron told Hermione about their first Divinations lesson of the year and how Professor Augura seemed to be leaps and bounds better than Professor Trelawney. So far, anyway. Hermione seemed to agree with him on the basis that it would take a lot for a person to be a bigger fraud than Professor Trelawney.

"Lockheart notwithstanding, eh?" Harry said in her ear, and she blushed to the roots of her hair and smacked Harry's arm lightly.

"So you had a pretty good class then, aside from being partnered with Malfoy and Zabini all year?"

"Oh, it was all right," Harry said before Ron could launch into another rant about Draco Malfoy and Malfoy's editorialized analysis of the Serpentine Prophecy. "I'm just interested to see how much she knows and if she's any good at it. She's damn jolly."

"Jolly enough to knock that prat Malfoy off balance," Ron snorted. Hermione arched an eyebrow.

"Nothing really," Harry explained. "See, Dumbledore apparently transferred Malfoy to Divinations because he has a knack for it, and Malfoy gave a little running commentary about a Serpentine Prophecy about me."

"About you?"

Harry sniffed. "Believe me. It's not anything we didn't know already." Hermione nodded and turned back to her lunch. "So, how was Advanced Transfiguration? Who's in the class with you?"

"Oh, er, it was all right," said Hermione. "We learned a spell that could help us determine our Animagus forms. I'll be a unicorn, apparently, or a white mare, to Muggle eyes." She paused and smiled at Harry supportively. "We're a small group, really."

"I heard Malfoy got in," said Ron angrily. "Is that true?"

Hermione glared at Ron as Harry spluttered in surprise. "Malfoy beat me into Advanced Transfiguration?" Hermione winced when she heard the tone of Harry's voice, and Harry shook his head vigorously. "Bloody hell." What will my father think of me? he thought. The son of Prongs can't even learn to become an Animagus.

"That spot is still open, Harry," Hermione reminded him kindly. "And you'll find out any day now that you've got in."

"Yeah, Harry!" Ron piped in. "There's no one else the Hat could pick, eh? It's been in all our heads, so it knows that you're a top candidate." Hermione stood on Ron's foot under the table at the thoughtless remark, and Harry smiled back at him, and tried to ignore the nagging feeling at the back of his mind.

"Right," he said. Hermione gave him a worried glance as they fell into silence to finish their meals.

Towards the end of lunch, a flood of owls swooped into the Great Hall. Two owls came to Harry, one a strange, unfamiliar bird, and the other a school owl. Harry opened the letter that came with the unfamiliar bird first. It was from Remus, who had taken to writing Harry a letter every two or three weeks. Since Sirius's death in the Department of Mysteries, Harry and Remus had started to cling to one another, and a great friendship forged between them.

Hello Harry,

How are you doing? I hope your summer with the Dursleys was not too taxing. I do wish I could have collected you for a holiday at my new home. I've started that job I've told you about with the International Ministry of Magic. They've got me working to establish the new school of magic in Venice. It should be finished by the end of the year, and I'll have a teaching position for the next. Maybe you could come visit me when you leave school. Or maybe you would consider applying for the institute.

Speaking of schooling, how do you like your new professor, Stacy Augura? She's very good at what she does, Harry. She worked for an elite order since finishing off her training as a diviner, and signed up with the IMM when it was formed last year. When Dumbledore requested a new professor, I talked her into volunteering for the job. We went to school together, did you know? She's a year older than your parents and me, but I know that she and Sirius had a relationship at one point. She'll be willing to tell you a bit about your parents, if you want. She was friends with Lily long before Lily could stand any one of the Marauders.

Try not to get into too much trouble, Harry. I know how it follows you around, but I want you to be extra careful this year. As you grow older and more powerful, the threat against you increases. Dumbledore has gotten more and more secretive as the war starts up again in earnest, and he is rather taken with one of your classmates, Draco Malfoy, although he hasn't told anyone allied with him why. He's had Tonks and Moody tagging him since that incident with Trelawney last year, so I want to caution you to be careful around him. Merlin knows Dumbledore won't warn you what's going on before it's too late. Let Professor Snape know if you see or hear anything unusual. He'll get word back to me in a safe and secure way. I fear I've written too much in this letter, and won't be doing this often.

When in doubt, write it out.

Much love,

Remus

PS give Ron and Hermione my best.

"What on earth does that mean?" Harry asked himself, folding the letter and pocketing it. "When in doubt, write it out?"

"Maybe he just wants you to get a letter to him," Ron suggested.

"I don't think so," said Hermione, but she didn't offer any suggestions.

Just as Harry was reaching for his next letter, an excited outburst came from the Slytherin table. Harry looked over curiously as Blaise Zabini accepted loud congratulations on getting into McGonagall's new Advanced Transfigurations class. Harry grimaced and turned away as Blaise put his hand on Malfoy's shoulder and started to ramble excitedly.

"Harry," Hermione began in a soft, soothing voice.

Harry shrugged at her and tore into the envelope. A letter fell out and Harry read it briefly, then twice more. He glanced at the Head Table, where both Professors McGonagall and Snape looked rather pleased with themselves that their respective students were the others to qualify for the course. Harry grinned at McGonagall and McGonagall smiled at him, her eyes twinkling over her glasses.

"Got in," Harry said, folding the letter and pocketing it. "Merlin, for a second I thought...." Harry trailed off and glanced over at the Slytherin table. Blaise Zabini leaned eagerly against Malfoy's side as Malfoy tore into a package. Malfoy hesitated, his eyes growing comically wide, then reached into the container and pulled out a strange, massive serpent. In place of eyes, it had glittering emeralds stuck in sockets, and rubies and emeralds were embedded deep into the flesh of its back. A gleaming silver spiral twisted between the gems and curled around its tail. Harry stared at it, mesmerized.

Then Malfoy grinned and lifted the snake's head to look it directly in the eyes. Malfoy's eyes flashed and he smiled brilliantly as the forked tongue flicked out at his face. Harry had never seen Malfoy look so natural, before, as when he was this unguarded and truly smiling.

"Harry!" Ron said, practically screaming in Harry's ear.

Harry turned to him, irritated with the interruption. "What?"

"I was just saying congratulations, mate," Ron said. "You know, you should have more faith in yourself. I can't believe you really thought the Hat would choose some slimy Slytherin over you! Bah!"

"Er, thanks," said Harry. He looked over at the Slytherins again, in time to see Zabini tuck and errant strand of hair behind Malfoy's ear. It was an unnerving, intimate gesture that made Harry flush and avert his eyes. When he looked up again, Pansy was glaring at them as Zabini dug through Malfoy's package and pulled out a squirming white mouse. The serpent snapped it from Zabini's hands, venomous fangs sinking into the back before it swallowed the thing whole. Malfoy and Zabini grinned.

"Ooh, he's so pretty!" said Pansy loudly. "Feed him some more!"

"That's barbaric!" huffed Hermione to herself. Neither Malfoy nor Zabini listened to Pansy anyway, and they gathered up their belongings and left the Great Hall, Pansy glaring after them.

"Snake's gotta eat," Ron said around a mouthful of food.