Of Seers and Heroes
the STFC FF

Chapter One: Seeing Eyes



Order eventually leads to chaos, and chaos eventually leads to order. The Universe, in a nut shell, is chaotic order, or orderly chaos, whichever perspective you wish to take.

However, hard you fight these two absolutes, you will always be defeated. There have been wars fought, laws made, so many secret societies built to bring down some thing or another…. And yet, when one power falls another rises, or else they fall together in the chaos.

Thus the Order of the Phoenix, the secret sect that stands against the terror Lord Voldemort has wrought upon the wizarding world, lives within the walls of Grimmauld Place, to keep order within the chaos, as well as to keep fear at bay.

The Order stands for all that is not Voldemort and his Death Eaters. They are two opposite forces, each working for nearly the same thing, but with different ways of obtaining that thing; that thing is power.

Power is a funny thing, for it is a corrupter.

Throughout existence, the Universe has maintained that power. Recently, new powers have been forming, throwing things completely off balance. This unbalanced universe is due to Voldemort.

Thus Sibyll Trelawney is thrown into the mass of chaos, right to the very heart of it all, right at Harry Potter himself. She is the one thing that the Universe had to bestow upon those who fought for order and thus she, once again, will find her purpose is more than that of a dramatic professor; she can make or break the war.


Simply put, Sibyll Trelawney did not like people; she did not like people at all. Sure there were an odd few who tickled her fancy, made her day a bit brighter, but in the end, she preferred solitude. At least, when alone she could divine as she pleased. Most thought her to be an old fraud, but that was only because they were blind.

No, Sibyll knew her purpose was far greater than that; she just put on act, a show, because you could not always trust even the most trusting.

Despite her overly large glasses, Sibyll was far from blind. If anything, her glasses were just a reminder of how much she could see. Sibyll did indeed have a gift when it came to divining; she merely kept it well hidden.


On the night of the 31st of October, Sibyll was enjoying her Samhain in a silent and very deep divine trance. It was always a plus to commune with the spirits on all Hallows eve and she would not pass it up.

The Universe had plans for Sibyll, however, and it made known its plans quite clearly when pushing her from the spirit world into a vision of what was to come if she did not act.

By the time Sibyll awoke, she knew what she had to do. If she were to truly deliver another prophecy, she would have to join the Order.

Oh, the gods must hate her! Throwing her into such unsuitable circumstances like this! Really all she wanted to do was sit in her room, in the peace and quite and truly see.


However, Sibyll would not ignore a message of such importance. The next day, she had gone to the Headmistress, McGonagall and informed her that she would like to join the Order of the Phoenix.

There was apparent shock on the older woman’s face, but it abated quickly and was replaced with mild disapproval.

“How did you—“

“I have seen it,” Sibyll answered in her most mysterious voice. Honestly, she loved to ham things up, it was the only way to keep her secret and it was quite fun!

McGonagall glowered. “I’m sure you have, Sibyll, however, I can not just accept you into—how can we trust you?”

“I will do whatever it takes,” she replied, easily. It was imperative she join. “Just tell me what to do.”

Professor McGonagall was not an easy person to charm; Sibyll had known that for years, and yet she still managed surprise at just how many tasks the headmistress gave her. First, she had tell the entire story of how she had come to this decision; she then had to go through all her recent outings and who with; but really, the best part was the Veritaserum.

Sibyll was divine, but that did not mean she was above petty, little white lies, or even, big ones. Thus she was not immune, unless of course, she were to be forced to speak of something sworn to the Universe as a secret.

However, Sibyll spilled the beans, because that was how it was supposed to be and she was instated in the Order of the Phoenix. The portrait of Albus Dumbledore, McGonagall’s predecessor, smiled down on Sibyll as she left. He always did know more than he let on.


It was a long time that Sibyll was a member, before an urgent meeting was called. She’d been fretful, but no prophecy came. What she knew was that, Harry had to hear it. However, Harry had not been seen for a very long time; Harry Potter had disappeared on some secret mission, one that he had started with Dumbledore and set out to complete after coming of age.

The night of the meeting Sibyll had barely arrived, when she noticed that something in the atmosphere had shifted her senses. She raised a hand to hover in the air before her, feeling the change more. She was snapped to attention by the door being slammed open.

“Yer late,” growled Hagrid. “Hurry up, we’re ready ter start.”

Sibyll did as she was told. When she arrived, she was nearly knocked off her feet by the sudden of waves of energy; waves that were shifting and swiftly moving about. She looked around her bespectacled eyes fell on Ginny Weasley. Her eyes rolled into her head and her other sight awoke within her.

She lost all awareness as she fell into the black oblivion that was where she went whenever a prophetic poem rose to her lips. She was at peace and completely connected to everything; she spoke from some distant realm, and though her words seemed so absurd, she knew they were true. She watched as the truth swam before her; magic was funny like in how looked to her from this place. Magic was beautiful and strange; magic was colourful and bright; magic was so pure and so simple, that it was easy to see the dark magic within Ginny Weasley, even with her eyes turn to her brain.

She also did not need eyes to see just how sick, Ginny Weasley was getting. Dark magic did that to a person; it infected them; tore them apart till they were a shell of what they once were, much like Voldemort. However, if you rejected it, it made you physically sick, to the point of death.

Sibyll was outside of herself, yet within. She watched in a trance as her body moved rigidly toward the red-headed girl, though she began speaking before even getting close to her.

"The end of the Dark Lord is found in the Love of the Chosen One-- something of Gryffindor’s is closer to the heart. The death of the Love shall bring victory to the light. The search will end on the eve of the solstice as the Sight, bestowed upon the Seer, awakens. The signs all point to the Love.... The end of the Dark Lord is found in the Love of the Chosen One...."

It was funny how hard it was to speak from here. She seemed to be fighting something within her, some power, always wanting to rise up and take complete control. She loved laying there in the cool, all-knowing darkness, but she also loved the world without, the living, awake, full of life and colour, world that existed.


Sibyll awoke within moments after the prophecy was spoken. Her body was positioned oddly, she noted and though the room was silent, she could not help but think the sound would make her deaf.

What had she said again?

She had hardly moved, except for her head and she now followed the path her finger was on. She had somehow sat down, though in an awkward position as the chair was rather small, and facing Ginny, rather than Sibyll; perhaps she’s climbed? Whatever the case, she was in a chair with her finger pointing directly at Ginny Weasley.

Ginny looked deathly ill, Sibyll could see so clearly, and she could feel the cause of it. This was the answer they had been looking for; Harry would need to know and speaking of Harry…

Sibyll looked up into the green eyes of Harry Potter. He was a different person since last she had seen him. There was a hard set to his features made him more intimidating, and his eyes were alight with a fire Sibyll had never seen before. He seemed ready for the war, but truly, he still had one more task before he could fight the Dark Lord.

“H—“ Sibyll’s voice hurt. Why? It didn’t usually. “Har—ry Potter,” she croaked.

“Wh—what did that mean?” Ronald Weasley was standing beside Harry, looking shocked.

Harry was watching Sibyll with the most calculating of expressions. His eyes followed her finger’s path, much as her own had done. When they fell on Ginny, something clearly broke within him, yet his face remained that same mask she’d never known he had.

“You don’t mean—“

“I only speak of what needs to be seen. The blind eyes of those around us, need opening. That is my part, Harry Potter, and it will always be my part, as it has always been my part.”

“No.” Harry’s voice was dangerously low and frighteningly hard. He seemed to think he had the power to change this.

“Yes,” Sibyll answered. “I am sorry.”

Harry was on the verge of speaking when Ginny’s tiny voice stopped him.

“H—Harry, what is it?”

It did not take the Inner Eye to see that Ginny was frightened, nor did it take the Sight to see that Harry Potter wanted nothing more than to cry.