The Prophecy of Doom

It was the dead of night, and the wind was slowly picking up. The hulls shook sinisterly as if to forbid the man waiting on the dock, to stay there any longer. It was hard to say precisely what he was staring at since there was nothing but darkness ahead. Darkness bar the ripples of waned moonlight on the sultry, inert water.

There was movement in the night, and a silhouette parted from the shadows and approached him. The two figures faced each other, and there was a want of light.

"Lumos!" the silhouette spelled, and the tip of his wand lit up.

"What took you so long?" whispered Richard Grax, the man who had been waiting. He had severe features that come from being out in harsh weather for decades.

"I had to make sure I was not being followed. You never know-" Adonis replied, looking around sharply.

"This area of the docks is under Concealment and Disillusionment charms, don't worry. Go on."

"Why here of all places? Shouldn't we join the other Aurors in Hungary, where he was born?" Adonis posed, sounding anxious.

"You Ministry officials lack imagination. This, here, is the place where Grindelwald's favorite family lived. The town looks abandoned from a distance. It took me several days to find it in the first place. Such was the strength of the disillusionment charms in place."

Adonis shivered in the wind. So it seemed they had found something of substance finally. He had never questioned Grax's instinct before, and he did not intend to begin then.

The man was as sharp as a goblin, a legend among sleuths, hired by the Ministry to track down fugitives. He had a very high success rate.

"Bramley Moor Docks. Who would've thought?" Adonis said, looking around.

"How are things at the Ministry?" Grax asked as they took a dirt path away from the docks.

"Shacklebolt is the Minister for Magic. But Travers is the one calling the shots. And once it was discovered in the Dark Lord's memories that he left Grindelwald alive, Travers, as Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, went into action, leaving no stone unturned to find him. We don't want another Wizarding War anytime soon."

"Isn't it too extreme of the Ministry to mutilate a corpse?"

"You don't really know Travers, do you?"

"Does he have any relation with the Death Eater?"

"Of course he does. Travers is one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight pureblood families. Well, one of them turned out to be a bad egg. But here, I am talking about Tristan Travers, grandson of Torquil Travers. He's always despised dark magic and dark wizards. Mutilating the corpse of Voldemort would come second nature to him."

Grax flinched on hearing the Dark Lord's name said aloud.

"Unfortunate. But what exactly was found in the memory? What was the last thing Grindelwald said to Vol- to the Dark Lord."

"I have gone into the Pensieve myself. He says- 'Kill me, then. Voldemort, I welcome death! But my death will not bring you what you seek. There is so much you do not understand. Kill me, then! You will not win. You cannot win! That wand will never, ever be yours.'"

"And then?"

"And then Voldemort puts him under the Imperius Curse to stay hidden until he was summoned."

"Now that he is dead-"

"The Imperius Curse is lifted, and we have him around with his free will. We had a break-in in the Hall of Prophecy last month. And one of the lost prophecies was stolen."

"Do you think he took it? What prophecy was this?"

Adonis sighed. He was not a big believer in prophecies. He liked to keep his head down and follow orders.

"It was most likely one of his acolytes" he explained. "Grindelwald would still be weak from years of living under the Imperius Curse. But he is one charmer. He'd pull the right strings in your head and make you loyal to him. The prophecy stolen was known to only a few, including Yusuf Kama, Tina Goldstein, Torquil Travers, and Albus Dumbledore."

"The Predictions of Tycho Dodonus was a book published sometime before 1927 that recorded the often poetic prophecies of the Seer Tycho Dodonus. It was known to many people of the time. Dodonus also secretly recorded some of his prophecies, which were kept in the Hall, unknown to the keepers. The point of the matter is that it speaks of the return of another Dark Lord within this year. "

"That is a frightening thought. Now that the wizarding world has just started healing. Prophecy or not, let's hope we find something here," Grax concluded. He was not a heroic individual by any means, but the Ministry paid him handsomely for his efforts. The higher the stakes, the higher the galleon payout. This was going to be his last job.

The plan was to purchase a house in his native Glencoe, Scotland, and live the final days farming spring barley and winter wheat.

The dirt path brought them to a turn, and as they made it, the gangway of the docks was visible again.

"Well, we are back again, where we started. I get tired of disillusionment easily." Adonis exclaimed, already exasperated.

"It took me several days of going around in circles to find the key to the disillusionment charm. I tried everything, from crawling to walking backward and throwing stones."

"And what is the key?"

Grax turned to his left and picked berries from a low-hanging branch.

"Go on. They are not poisonous. In fact, they are quite sweet."

Adonis took a bite, and a revelation seemed to come to him. The docks disappeared from his vision, and the entrance to a dilapidated town stood in front of him.

An overhead sign supported between two tall pillars vaguely pronounced-

Bramley Moor

Population 74

"Remember to walk between the pillars, or you will be turned around," the sleuth instructed.

"Anything else?"

"Keep your wand ready," Grax warned. "We are not welcome here."