Inglorious Bastards [Theodore Nott]

The Seven Prophecies

THE MOIRAI WHO HAVE WATCHED FOUR WARS IN ONE LIFETIME

ATROPOS SOLOMON or Madam Solomon as she preferred to be called is a third of the three famous Fates. A Moirai, as they were called by their people. Witches who spin the wheel of fate and destiny. Many of her sisters by gifts have passed, but she has lived for almost two centuries and has watched three wars passed. Simply watching, never intervening as she knows the outcome of each and every pawn that played in it. And it seems she shall be an audience to another one.

"Madam Solomon."

Albus Dumbledore appeared at the cliff where Madam Solomon spends most of her days creating her tapestry. Normally, people would make their tapestry indoors, where the cloth would be hung, but Madam Solomon was stubborn and would prefer to work in natural light, with the view of the valley. Besides, she had magic to hang the tapestry in the air while she created her art.

"A new one, I see." Dumbledore mused as he approached to see the tapestry Madam Solomon has just begun to make. "And how many years would it take you to make it this time?"

"Seven." Madam Solomon answered.

"When did you start?" Dumbledore asked.

"The moment Harry Potter was brought to the Dursleys of course." Madam Solomon then started to hum a tune as she continued with her work.

Albus took a seat at the empty stool beside the elderly woman. He sighed when his old knees had to bed all the way down, but then stopped himself as he remembered that Madam Solomon was much much older than him. She did use to babysit him and his siblings when they were very young, at that time she was already in her mid-thirties. But it seems the ancient witch has stopped aging the moment she turned sixty. The age she chose to immortalize with the help of a peculiar Alchemist.

"What brings you here, Albus?" Madam Solomon asked with a soothing tone.

"To give my condolences for I heard that your sister, Isobel has passed."

"Thank you." Madam Solomon turned to him with a smile. "But I heard that her ghost haunts her family's manor, so there really is no need for goodbyes."

There was a pause.

"Seven years." Dumbledore mused. "Seven prophecies, I believe?"

She hummed as a response.

"You have aided the Global Wizarding War before, Madam Solomon, by helping Newt Scamander find Credence, by telling me of Grindelwald's fate, assuring me that he shall not die –"

"And because of that, the Ministry decided to exploit my talents." Madam Solomon mused. "Having me tell prophecies, storing them in shelves in the dark for their own personal use. My gifts have brought nothing but corruption. Deceit. Wars. Extremists. The rise of Dark Wizards."

"So, you hid." Dumbledore concluded.

"I hid."

"But you cannot hide from the Dark Lord for long. He will rise once again for he is not –"

"I know. That is why you have come here to seek counsel." Madam Solomon placed her needle down.

"To seek the reassurance of what is to come."

There was a pause. Madam Solomon closed her eyes as she knew that nothing can stop fate. It was inevitable for Dumbledore to come there and seek her help, it was inevitable for the Dark Lord to rise again, and it was inevitable that a new Moirai was to be born. And he already has been. Born with a golden crown, and a fate full of pain. Like most Moirais do.

"Seven years. Seven prophecies. And no more." Madam Solomon said.

"Seven prophecies and no more." Dumbledore assured her.

The older witch got up to her feet, and Dumbledore followed. She suddenly called for a name, a familiar name to Dumbledore, and said student appeared before them in a blink of an eye. It was a former student of his. An extraordinary witch who used to look at him in awe, but now with disdain. Dumbledore greeted her, but she simply glanced at his way before turning back to Madam Solomon.

"I shall give you my prophecies but this will be the last, Albus. I presume you know what is expected." Madam Solomon held out her hand to Dumbledore.

"Of course, Madam Solomon." Dumbledore took the older witch's hand.

The witch that came earlier performed the spell. The Unbreakable Vow. Creating a pact between the Witch and Wizard that only seven prophecies shall be given, and no more. After they have sworn, the scars of the Vow were sealed into their hands. The witch turned to Madam Solomon and then disapparated. Madam Solomon took her seat once again, and said,

"Now, for the sevenprophecies..."