Chapter 192: Prophecy and Destiny
"Changing an already determined destiny... that simply doesn't sound magical."
Dumbledore had always been uninterested in prophecy, not because he thought it was imprecise, as Ryan once suggested.
He thought prophecy was too absolute, which had led to his estrangement from Grindelwald.
Everything he had experienced proved the absolute and irreversible nature of prophecy.
Therefore, he could only accept such unreasonable predictions as a part of magic.
Yet now, something utterly un-magical had happened: Harry and Voldemort were both alive, and one wielded the power of the other.
Dumbledore might be able to convince himself that the affair was not yet over, and they might still be destined for a final showdown.
However, the prophecies Ryan occasionally made to students truly altered the outcomes.
This included the prediction about Quirrell being controlled and Voldemort wanting to retrieve something from the Room of Requirement—that outcome was also changed.
"There's an even more direct line of reasoning, Albus, and you know it. People with the gift of prophecy are most likely to foresee events related to themselves or what they care about most. For instance, in the endless futures I have seen, the visions that concerned you and me were related to the Statute of Secrecy and the Muggle world.
"Your Divination professor, Trelawney, her prophecies—made by an ordinary witch with little ability during a time of chaos—were a yearning for her own future. She might not realize she made an accurate prophecy, but her subconscious was extremely focused on when Voldemort would fail."
Gellert said, "But Ryan's prophecies are completely random; even when they concern himself, they aren't precisely obtained."
"Perhaps... perhaps it's because the Squibs and the Magi-Alloy wands aren't that important to him?"
"You are deceiving yourself, Albus." Gellert shook his head. "Whether it's the Statute of Secrecy or the Squibs, these are areas Ryan is dedicated to pushing forward; he cannot be unconcerned. If his ability was the same as Trelawney's and mine, and all the prophetic masters before us, he wouldn't be without any feeling about these great events."
"Actually, there's no problem, is there?" Dumbledore waved a hand. He couldn't judge the matters between these Seers, but even if Ryan's prophecies were different, an extra ability was a good thing, not a bad one.
"It doesn't seem like a bad thing currently, but an anomaly that cannot be traced—something unseen in thousands of years of magical history, suddenly appearing now—that in itself is the greatest anomaly."
To transcend common sense—how terrifying was that?
It was like a monster suddenly appearing in human history that could lift mountains. People not alive in the same era would only consider it a myth, a legend passed down.
Only those who lived in the same age as such a prodigy could understand what he truly represented.
At least Gellert felt the entire edifice of Divination he had built in his mind had collapsed.
And Ryan's various prophecies, on a larger scale, were changing established history.
Even Dumbledore, a "Muggle" in the field of Divination, could grasp the profound implications.
The person in question didn't know two old "pals" were puzzling over him behind his back.
He just found Dumbledore's question during dinner time inexplicable.
Should he have felt something extraordinary recently?
Could it be that Professor Quirrell, after a year of illness, was finally well and planning to come out and teach the students before the term ended to feel relevant?
That would be a good thing!
He was constantly running between Beauxbatons, Hogwarts, and the Tower of Wonders, wishing he could split himself into three. If Quirrell was truly better, he would gladly step aside.
Thinking of this, he realized he hadn't been to the hospital wing in a while and decided to visit Quirrell.
He also planned to bring Madam Pomfrey a gift. After all, it was a gesture of appreciation that this seasoned school healer, who had served Hogwarts for years, didn't look down on his alchemically produced potions.
He went to the Room of Requirement and picked up some gifts for Quirrell—a sweet dessert cake and a bottle of Port wine.
Then he rummaged through his potion stores and found a bottle of cheering solution.
This was no ordinary potion.
It was a superb-grade potion.
It was a potion praised by Snape himself, representing the peak of Ryan's potion-making skill.
He figured Madam Pomfrey would be delighted with a high-quality product.
He picked up the items and headed to the hospital wing.
"You're asking about Professor Quirrell's condition?" Madam Pomfrey was uncharacteristically idle, with no students causing trouble.
She told Ryan, "It's also thanks to you that Quirinus Quirrell can accept himself in a better state.
"Otherwise, suppressed emotions and accumulated resentment are not good for a patient's recovery."
I helped him accept himself... Ryan recalled contacting Quirrell using the Hogwarts castle's permissions. He had noticed Quirrell's internal state was a mess. Even with proper rest, using magic was difficult, like a perfectly healthy person suddenly developing a limp.
"Professor Quirrell's... casting ability..." he tentatively asked.
Madam Pomfrey just shook her head, saying nothing.
Ryan understood. He pulled out the cheering solution for Madam Pomfrey.
The transparent crystal vial contained a shimmering, glowing liquid, mysterious and beautiful.
As expected, Madam Pomfrey was quite impressed by the potion's quality and happily accepted it.
After exchanging pleasantries, Ryan went to find Quirrell.
Quirrell was standing in the corridor. He had been able to walk freely for a while now, but he had been reluctant to show himself.
Because you don't know what you have until it's gone.
"Long time no see." Ryan, carrying his bags, handed him a bottle of Port wine. "White Port from the Douro Valley. A toast to our meeting."
Quirrell's face was pale. Unlike the pallor caused by Voldemort's high-pressure mental state in the past, this paleness would likely accompany him for the rest of his life.
He had been looking sorrowful, but hearing Ryan's words, he laughed, whether in mockery or self-deprecation. "Shouldn't that be paired with a Weasley cheese?"
"Of course, we could. Hogsmeade is right next door. We could go buy some."
Quirrell: "Let's not. It's not very good."
Ryan: "Port wine and Weasley cheese are indeed a bitter combination, but there's still a chance to cover the bitter taste buds with more delicious food."
Quirrell: "Yes, even Squibs can cast magic now. The world changes so fast. It feels like I've been lying in bed for more than a century."
"You still have the mood to speak in riddles with me. It seems you are keeping a good state of mind."
Ryan said, "Since you can walk without issue, are you interested in going out for a walk?"
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