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BFH# Chapter 45: Malfoy’s Prophecy
🕑 Added 2025-01-08 15:32:08 +0000 UTCThe Potions classroom, like the Slytherin common room, was located in the dungeons of Hogwarts Castle.
Due to its proximity to the Black Lake, the area was colder and damper than the upper levels of the castle. Adding to the eerie atmosphere, the classroom was sparsely lit with candles, perfectly embodying Muggle fantasies of what a dark wizard's lair might look like.
When Malfoy pushed open the door to the Potions classroom, his eyes were immediately drawn to the shelves filled with jars containing various animal organs. The sight made him flinch slightly.
Still, he didn’t retreat.
Draco Malfoy took a deep breath, gritted his teeth, and approached the inner door of the Potions classroom. Just as he raised his hand to knock, he caught faint snippets of conversation coming from inside.
“... How many flowers do you need? I can’t sell you all of them. Some need to stay in the house for landscaping,” a low, menacing voice said.
“Fifteen for now. I’ll offer you an Obscurial in return—something you might find interesting,” came another voice. This one Malfoy immediately recognized as Snape’s.
“What’s that?” the first voice inquired.
“A phenomenon born from suppressing magical abilities from a young age. If you’re interested in studying the soul and magic, it’s a prime subject. I happen to have a source to acquire one, though its value far exceeds these flowers. You’d have to...”
Malfoy listened intently for a moment but could no longer hear anything further. After a brief pause to collect his thoughts, he surmised that Snape was engaged in some sort of transaction. Hesitating only briefly, he knocked on the door.
Knock, knock, knock.
“... Come in.”
The cold, slick voice of Snape called out from within.
When Malfoy pushed the door open and stepped inside, he wasn’t surprised to find someone else in the room.
It was the Divination professor he hadn’t had a class with yet—Victor. In his hand, Victor held a glowing blue flower, its scent permeating the room with an intoxicating freshness.
“Draco, what brings you here?”
Snape finally turned his attention to Draco. His tone was impatient but less harsh than usual. After all, Draco was one of his own Slytherins.
Draco did his best to ignore Victor’s unsettling presence and began complaining to Snape:
“Professor, Harry Potter from Gryffindor has been unfairly allowed onto their Quidditch team and even received a broomstick—a Nimbus 2000! He’s just a first-year! This is completely unfair!”
“I’ve told you before,” Snape interrupted icily. “Address me as ‘Professor’ when we’re in my office.”
“... Sorry, Professor.”
Snape’s expression softened slightly after the apology, but his tone remained cutting.
“I’ve already heard about Potter’s situation. It seems Minerva has pinned her hopes on our so-called savior. Unfortunately, I don’t have a comparable excuse to make an exception for you.”
“I can do everything Potter can!” Draco protested. “All he did was dive down and catch a ball. I can do that too—”
“And break your neck? Shall we then prepare for your mother to storm the school in a fit of rage?”
Snape sneered coldly. He was all too aware of Draco’s actual flying skills.
Just last week, passing by the Slytherin table, he’d overheard Draco boasting about his broomstick adventures as a child, tales that always concluded with him narrowly escaping a Muggle helicopter. Whether these stories were true or not, Snape knew one thing:
If Draco attempted Potter’s kind of Quidditch stunts, even if he survived unscathed, Narcissa Malfoy would surely descend upon Hogwarts the next day, demanding answers as to why her son was risking his life.
Snape flatly rejected Draco’s request, throwing in a few cutting remarks about his recent behavior for good measure.
Victor, observing the exchange from the sidelines, raised an eyebrow.
He hadn’t expected Snape to have friends. He’d assumed Snape, like most witches and wizards he’d known in the past, was the solitary type.
Victor studied Malfoy for a moment before speaking to Snape:
“What about him?”
“What?” Snape asked, caught off guard.
“A prophecy. I can make one for him. His future is intertwined with yours...” Victor mentioned the same topic Draco had overheard earlier. “It would balance the trade perfectly.”
“I thought I could choose the subject of the prophecy I receive,” Snape countered.
“That’s wishful thinking, Severus. Prophecies aren’t so precise,” Victor replied matter-of-factly, earning a skeptical glance from Snape—after all, Victor’s prophecy for Trelawney had been exceptionally detailed.
Victor ignored the look.
Their earlier deal involved nightshade flowers with significant magical properties, rumored to enhance the potency of certain poisons. Victor, initially uninterested in a transaction purely involving money, became intrigued when Snape mentioned the Obscurial. Naturally, he didn’t mind “going the extra mile” for something so rare.
Meanwhile, Draco, still confused by the turn of events, warily glanced at Victor before turning back to Snape.
“What prophecy? Will it say I’m better than Potter? That doesn’t need a prophecy—Potter’s a fool standing with the wrong people—”
“The truth may be quite the opposite, Mr. Malfoy,” Victor said indifferently.
“What?”
Draco froze.
If Potter was with the wrong people, and the opposite was true... Did that mean Potter was in the right, and he was in the wrong?
Snape seemed hesitant, but Victor had already stood up. He reached out a hand toward Draco, who instinctively stepped back.
The next moment, Victor opened his hand, and a swirl of smoke appeared in his palm.
The smoke carried crimson sparks, spreading rapidly throughout the room and forming a glowing circle.
Before Snape could demand an explanation, the smoke began to emit sounds resembling distant thunder. In its center, vague images started to form—
A dark hall, its vintage decor barely visible, occupied by shadowy figures seated within.
“The time for decision has come.”
“He’s just a child!” another voice roared. “How can he possibly complete such a task?”
“A child? Once our master commands it, he ceases to be a child and becomes a tool. If he fails, he is worthless—this world has no need for the weak.”
“Let me do it! I can fulfill the order. Don’t send this—this child on such a dangerous mission! He’s my son—my only—”
The argument grew more intense. The shadows in the smoke writhed, like caged beasts. Just as the chaos reached its peak, a sharp, icy voice cut through everything:
“Enough.”
At the sound of that voice, Draco shivered involuntarily.
The voice, calm and deliberate, said:
“The Malfoy child... If he is still a child, that is Lucius’s failure, not mine.”
“He must go and bring me Dumbledore’s life—this is not about capability but loyalty. Should he fail, the Malfoy family’s honor will be buried with him...”
“That’s enough! What is this?!”
Snape abruptly stood, his face pale and his hand clutching his arm as though in pain.
As he rose, the smoke dissipated entirely.
