Parting Ways

"Lord Herpo the Foul."

Tom stood meekly in the center of the great hall, wearing a black hooded robe, half his face hidden beneath the brim, looking even more like a dark wizard than a dark wizard.

He held a crystal-clear orb in both hands. Hazy mist surged inside the crystal ball, shifting into different shapes from moment to moment. The exposed line of his chin was lit in flickering light and shadow by the glow of the crystal ball, making the faint, almost absent smile at the corner of his mouth seem impossible to read.

"Are you finally willing to listen to the prophecy I have seen?"

The great hall was deathly quiet. Even the usual faint rustling of snakes crawling had vanished. Tom's voice echoed back and forth between the walls and stone pillars. There was not much question in Tom's words; both he and Herpo the Foul knew that before the question had been asked, the answer had already been decided.

"How long have you been here?"

Herpo the Foul did not answer Tom's question. After a long silence, his voice sounded behind Tom, and he actually asked after Tom's life. "Karkaroff, do you like it here?"

"I have waited here for three months. Thanks to your care, the future has grown clearer and clearer in my eyes."

Tom did not turn to look at Herpo the Foul. Instead, he lowered his head even further, his face almost pressed to the crystal ball. At his feet, countless snakes were gathering silently, piling layer upon layer beneath his hands. Tom could even feel the slick, icy sensation of snake tongues sliding over the backs of his hands. He let go, allowing the crystal ball to fall. It was caught by the high platform built from the mass of