Authors Note - Hello, this is just a quick note to say that if you have found this story, you might want to consider reading the Year One story first ( s/12679070/1/A-Knight-to-Remember-Year-One-Hogwarts). If you already have, thank you very much for returning. Happy reading!
Chapter One - The Start of Many
Skye laughed as she hovered in the air, grasping the handle of one of Tabitha's old brooms. She had been getting a lot better at flying lately, mainly thanks to Tabitha's insistence she learn to play Quidditch and Toby's patience when teaching her. Currently, the two siblings were arguing over the events of last year's Quidditch World Cup.
"Scotland have never been known for their endurance. They needed to catch the snitch day one if they wanted to win," Toby argued.
"Yeah, but when has Canada's Seeker ever been any good?" Tabitha shot back.
"He was better than Scotland's. How do you miss a snitch that's millimetres from your fingertips?" Toby mused. Tabitha grumbled, tossing the Quaffle between the palm of her hands. "You'll have to come with us next time, Skye. The Quidditch World Cup is something to behold."
"I'm not sure I could just leave the country…" she murmured.
"Not a problem. Britain is hosting the next World Cup," Tabitha grinned.
"I'll just jott you guys down in my diary for three years time then," Skye smiled.
"It's a deal. I can't wait until you see how mental Mum gets. As soon as England drops out, she becomes 'British' just so she has someone to support. Went bonkers when Scotland reached the finals last year," Tabitha laughed, proceeding to adapt a terrible Scottish accent to sing what Skye assumed was a Scottish support song.
"Tabby, I think someone just stepped on Pat's tail," Toby joked, covering his ears.
Skye laughed as Tabitha proceeded to chase her brother around, viciously aiming the Quaffle at his head as they whizzed around the 'garden'. Skye had been shocked to discover Tabitha practically lived in a mansion with several hectares of land surrounding it. Once she had gotten over the initial worry of getting lost, Skye had never felt more at home.
"Come on, let's do some penalties," Skye suggested, most likely saving Toby from grievous bodily harm.
Or, maybe not. With Toby in goal, Tabitha launched a serious assault of shots in his direction. Skye had to admit she was impressed. When Tabitha put her mind to something, there was no stopping her, and with the dedication she had put into her Quidditch, Skye was sure she was guaranteed to get a spot on the team.
"Are you just going to hover there, Skye?" Toby called out to her.
"I'm happy to watch," she replied.
"Come on, take a shot! I'll go easy on you," he challenged.
Tabitha tossed over the Quaffle, which Skye grabbed before it could hit her in the face.
"Just get a good bit of speed on and make him regret his words, Skye," Tabitha encouraged her.
With a scowl, Skye flew around, trying to get used to manoeuvring with only one hand. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as Toby exaggerated a yawn. With a shake of her head, she changed direction, gaining speed as she headed straight towards him. Steadying herself, she let go of her broom, using her momentum to aim a good chest pass in his direction, thankful for her netball days.
"Oof," uttered Toby as the Quaffle hit him square in the chest, causing both him and the ball to pass through their makeshift goalpost. Managing to slow his backwards propulsion, Toby looked at Skye open-mouthed. "Where in Merlin's beard did that come from?"
"You've got to teach me that move," Tabitha shrieked.
Skye blushed, "I really like playing netball. I've been told my chest passes are pretty good."
"I'll say," Toby muttered.
"Show it to me again, Skye." Tabitha demanded.
"Oh no, I'm not taking another stomach cruncher," Toby shook his head. "If you want to see it again, you can take the full force of it yourself."
XxX
Skye had been given permission from Helen (after a multitude of begging, organisation, and an exchange between her and Tabitha's parents) to spend the final week of her summer holidays with the Hart family. So far, it had been the best week of her life; being able to meet Mikey in Diagon Alley to get their school things, helping Tabitha train for the Quidditch team, and marvelling at the extraordinary thing that was wizarding life.
Despite Tabitha's best efforts to convince her otherwise, the Hart family were truly amazing people. Mr Hart worked from home, brewing potions to order and even supplying some of his own invention. Skye had soon become used to his eccentricity, but rather hoped they didn't have to evacuate the house for the third time that week due to 'unidentified fumes' escaping from his office.
In contrast, Mrs Hart had a cool demeanour, but was strong-willed and sharp. Her own family found her a bit stern and intimidating (Skye had found this out when Mr Hart had bribed her and Tabby with ice cream for their silence over the first fume mishap), but Skye was nothing but awe-struck with her from day one, when she had asked Mrs Hart what she had gotten up to at the Ministry over dinner.
"Oh nothing much, dear," she had begun. "My department were investigating some wizard who had been rumoured to be raising boomslangs. We thought it might be a good lead on tracking down some Dark Wizards, seeing at the skin is used in Polyjuice Potion… do you know what that is, dear?" Skye had nodded, open-mouthed. "Yes, well, turns out some idiot in the Department of Magical Creatures had misidentified them and they turned out to be harmless things. Quite disappointing, really."
Skye wasn't so sure what was disappointing about not finding highly venomous snakes, but she wasn't about to question Mrs Hart. Toby had also managed to secure himself a place in the Spell Registration Office. Skye had noticed he came home a bit miserable, but fortunately she could cheer him up by asking about the new spells he was working on in his own time.
"I've made some real progress on the interdimensional deflection charm. Stage one is complete with the charm being absorbed, but I'm not really sure where it goes after that. Obviously, the aim is to target it at your opponent's back…" he was telling her as they had sat down for their evening cup of tea.
"Isn't that a bit dangerous? I mean your spell could end up anywhere!" Skye gasped.
"I'm only sending tickling charms through at the moment. Plus, I'm keeping an eye out for reports of spontaneous tickling. No luck yet, though," he sighed.
"Oh, well I'm sure it will work out," she encouraged him.
"Time for bed girls." Mrs Hart commanded, eyes narrowed at Tabitha.
"Why doesn't she ever give you 'the look'?" Tabitha muttered.
"Because, I tend to stay in bed and don't wander around trying to escape for a quick midnight flying session," she whispered back.
Skye was snuggling into Tabitha's double bed. She watched as her friend pottered around the room, throwing items in her school trunk, having decided now was the perfect time to pack for their return in a couple of days time. Soon, her eyes grew heavy and she was drawn into a deep sleep.
Skye found herself in the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom at Hogwarts. A figure stood in the corner, wrapped in shadows. Her heart began racing, but Skye couldn't stop herself walking up to the figure and reaching out, forcing them to turn around.
"Professor Mater?" Skye asked, recognising the woman bathed in shadows. "Are you okay?"
Tears fell from the Professor's eyes as she clung to a bundle of blankets at her chest.
"I couldn't save him," she whispered.
"Who?" She wondered aloud, body trembling.
Beside her, a boy around Skye's age materialised, grasping the Professor's hand. Then, Professor Mater let go, rushed forward and grabbed her arms to hold her in place. Skye froze on the spot, unable to look away from her lifeless eyes.
"He will be the first of many," the Professor rasped.
Skye's eyes shot open, her body frozen in place. She had no perception of how long she was paralysed to the bed, but upon finally calming herself and placing her feet firmly on the floor, she felt a great chill pass over her. Slowly, she got up, shivering from the sheen of sweat that covered her body and began to walk out the bedroom to head downstairs.
"Skye?" Mrs Hart had her wand pointed at Skye, the brightness of its tip dimming as Skye held up her hand to shield herself from it. "What are you doing walking around the house?"
"I'm sorry I woke you. I didn't want to go back to sleep," she hugged herself to stop her body shivering.
"Why not?" She questioned as she took off her dressing gown and threw it around the trembling girl.
"I had a dream…" Skye began.
"Was it just a dream?" Mrs Hart inquired carefully.
"I don't think so."
Tears spilled from Skye's eyes and Mrs Hart embraced her, rubbing her back and whispering comforting words. Once Skye had calmed down, Mrs Hart set to work brewing a cup of tea as Skye stared at the wooden table in their dining room. Setting down the cup, Skye began to describe her dream at Mrs Hart's request.
"The boy. What did he look like?" Mrs Hart asked, leaning forward.
"Well, he was about my age," Skye winced, trying to recall any detail. Mrs Hart nodded at her in encouragement. "Really skinny, and he had bright blonde hair."
"Blonde hair, are you sure?" she gasped, seeming confused.
She nodded, "I remember because it was the only light in the darkness."
Skye didn't have a clue why hair colour was important right now, but she was too tired to question it. Unfortunately, Skye didn't think she was getting back to sleep anytime soon.
"I'm going to write to Professor Dumbledore. He has expressed his concern for you previously and I'm sure he'd want to know about a vision concerning one of his staff. I know it's hard, but take comfort that you've helped more than you know just by telling someone about this."
Mrs Hart rested a comforting hand on her shoulder. Skye nodded, happily accepting Mrs Hart's offer of a Sleeping Potion in the hope that she would have a dreamless sleep. As she drifted off, she remembered the wise Headmaster's words that haunted her soul; 'since this is your first instance of true premonition, it may be that it is your only one, or perhaps the start of many.'