~A/N~ This is my Harry Potter fan-fic. This is my only Harry Potter fan-fic even. If you want more, tell me and I'll try to write another one. But unless someone says they want one, there isn't another one coming.

Disclaimer ~ These characters belong to J. K. Rowling. If they had belonged to me, I would be rich and famous and wouldn't have sold film rights to Warner Brothers. But that is just me.



Harry Potter and Ms. Cleo

Harry changed the station on the television again. The Dursley's had been a lot more lenient about letting Harry do what he wanted lately. He flipped through the channels and finally settled on one of the American stations.

Leaning back in the chair, Harry wondered how Muggles could watch this stuff. He was getting fed up with the stupidity and decided he would watch for only five more minutes. Harry was about to change the channel again, when this strange music began to play. Then on the screen, a lady with a strong Jamaican accent appeared. She claimed that she could tell about a persons past and future.

Harry smirked, "Fake. You don't know the first thing about magic. Your accent is even fake." All of a sudden, he had an idea.

Harry picked up the phone and dialed the number. It didn't take long for the so-called psychic to pick up.

"Ms. Cleo here. Just tell me your name and I'll get started."

Harry shrugged, "Harry Potter."

There was a pause at the other end of the line. Ms. Cleo cleared her throat, "You are about fifteen or sixteen, am I right?"

"Yes," said Harry, unimpressed. Anyone could guess your age, couldn't they?

"I feel a sense of withdrawal about you. Did you or do you live in a small room?"

Harry raised an eyebrow. Did the tone of his voice reveal that too? "Yes, I used to."

"You seem to have many friends, but even more enemies. Can this be true?"

Now this was starting to freak Harry out. He looked into the fireplace at the fire, "Yea that is true too."

Ms. Cleo seemed to lift her voice, more cheerful like. Harry was sure she was smiling, "It seems you do well at school, but have a problem with a teacher or too."

Harry frowned. She was good. "Yea. A few."

"In your future I see grave danger."

"Voldermort," Harry whispered under his breath.

"I think I see the name Voldermort in your near future."

"How did you know that?"

"I'm psychic."

I thought the term was psycho! Thought Harry.

"Anyway," Ms. Cleo continued, "I see danger for you and your friends. I have a feeling someone dear to you might not make it to their seventh year at Hogwarts."

"How did you know the name of my school. Never mind, you're psychic."

"Would you like to know more about your future?"

"No thanks. I've heard enough. Can I ask you how much this is?"

"It comes to about one hundred dollars."

Harry started, "One hundred dollars!"

"Yes. Anything else I can do for you?"

"Yea. Tell me how you know all of this. I mean about Hogwarts and Voldermort and all."

He could hear Ms. Cleo smirk at the other end. "Easy my boy. I have a direct contact with Mrs. Rowling. All of your books are in my possession too. How else did you think I had learned all my stuff?"

Harry slammed down the phone and turned off the television, vowing never to trust anything he saw on television ever again.