Intercession - DM

A Harry Potter Fanfiction
This story starts in Prisoner Of Azkaban

***

Prophecy is supposed to be grand. World-altering. Whispered in candlelit towers and guarded by the Ministry's deepest chambers.
So why does it only ever show her him?
The visions don't come like stories. They arrive in fragments - a corridor lit by torchlight. A drawled voice edged with something sharper than arrogance. Silver-gray eyes that refuse to yield.
They are never about wars. Never about the fate of the wizarding world.
Only about him.
She doesn't know why her magic keeps returning to his name, threading through moments that haven't happened yet. She only knows that what she sees feels unfinished - like something balanced on the edge of becoming.
There are choices in the dark.
There are turning points no one else seems to notice.
She never meant to hold his future in her hands.
But the more it unfolds, the harder it becomes to pretend she isn't meant to change it.

***

Prophecy is supposed to be grand. World-altering. Whispered in candlelit towers and guarded by the Ministry's deepest chambers.
He never imagined it would follow him.
It starts with glances - brief, unsettling. A pause in conversation when he enters the room. A look that lingers a fraction too long, like she's measuring something he hasn't said yet.
She sees him differently. That much is obvious.
And that is the problem.
They say she has visions. That her magic reaches forward, threading through moments that haven't happened yet. For reasons no one fully understands, it keeps returning to him.
He does not know what she's seen.
Only that she has.
Every look feels like intrusion. Every silence, like something taken without permission. He meets her gaze with sharpened pride, refusing to give her anything freely - least of all confirmation.
The idea that someone might witness what he has not yet chosen - what he has not yet become - is intolerable.
The future is his.
And he has no intention of letting her steal it.