Disclaimer: You already know that I don't own it. Without further delay, here is the next chapter (But technically, it's the first...)

Predictions

The Quidditch World Cup

A graveyard. A boy, with the greenest eyes, like Avada Kadavra. He's fighting someone with snake-like features. He's a Dark wizard, very powerful. Suddenly, a green light shoots out from the tip of the snake-man's wand, and the boy shouts his own spell in defence. The spells collide to create a bright, white ball where they meet in the center. Then, the light grows, to create a … cage? –

I wake up in a cold sweat. I've been having the same dream for a while now. I wonder who that boy is –

"Sophia Cara Seerose! Get down here this instant! It's already nine fifty and the portkey leaves at ten!"

"Coming!" I reply. That's right, today's is the Quidditch World Cup against the Bulgarians and the Irish. Not that I really care, it's my Mum that's really into that sport. I get dressed in some Muggle clothes and look in the mirror. I see a tall, slim, pale fourteen year old with very vibrant purple eyes, and mid-length, blonde, loose curly hair. All set.

God I wish I had a wand. At Cackles, there was no need for wands, because you always learned the spells that could be used wandless, or regardless of which implement you use to channel your magic with. I must remember to get a wand at some wand shop before I go to Hogwarts. Another thing to add onto my list.

I dodge all the many boxes in my room and walk into my baby brother's room, pick him up, and head downstairs.

"All ready?" asks Mum as she nods in the direction of a bean can, sitting innocently atop the counter, "We have about five minutes, so, would you like to get a snack of sorts before we leave?"

"Yeah, sure. I'd fancy a bit of toast if you don't mind."

Mum summons two pieces of bread and begins to magically toast them. "Do you have the tent and bags?" I ask. She nods in reply.

"Your toast is ready. Come on now, we've only got three minutes left."

"Right, then. Fanks for ba poast, Mub." I said while chewing the most toast I could fit into my mouth without choking.

"It's not polite to talk with your mouth open, Sophie."

Gulp. "Sorry"

"Well then, let's be off. Get your belongings, and make sure that you don't forget anything. Get Danny, will you?"

I took my brother out from his high chair I set him in, grabbed my hiking bag and stood by the bean can which was acting as our portkey.

"Five," the portkey began to glow almost white now, "four, three," I both my hand and Danny's hand on the top of the can, "two, one." I felt as if someone yanked me up in the air by the feet. I could feel it in the pit of my stomach. Danny began to cry as my mum yelled to let go. As soon as my hand was no longer touching the can, Danny and I began to fall. Luckily I remembered that trick that Mum taught me: try to run as if on solid ground, and I should be okay. Sure enough, as I started to jog towards the ground, it, the ground, didn't meet me abruptly, and I landed with a soft thud.

"All right, love?" I heard my mother say. I nodded once. "Here's your ticket, so make sure that you don't loose it. Let's go." With that, we walked up to where a man in a hut was sitting.

"Going camping, I see," he began, "it's a lovely day out … but it might be a little crowded up there, lots of people are campin' today, too. Aren't many spots left, but, you say your name's Seerose?" he said as he started to riffle through a very thick looking notebook. "Ahh, here we are, that'll be twenty pounds, please." Mum dug through her purse to find her wallet, and pulled out the twenty pounds, and handed it to the man. "Thank you, your camping spot is on the receipt. Have a nice day."

As we walked away, my mother said, "Well, he seems like a very nice man." The rest of the way, we walked in silence, with the exception of Danny cooing. "Here we are. Section D, number thirty-two. Sophie, dear, you can get out the tent, and I'll set it up."

"Okay." I set Danny down on the ground, him being old enough to sit up by himself, and started unpacking the tent. When I was done, Mum took out her wand and put a spell on the tent so it could set up by itself. When it was fully up, I walked inside the magically enlarged tent with our bags, followed suit by Mum with Danny. I yawned. "Mum, I think I'm going to take a little lie-down, so wake me up in half an hour, please." With that, I walked into my room, and plopped onto the bed. I was asleep before I even hit the pillow.

A low noise that is inaudible… it sounds more like a hiss. A bright, greenish white light shoots up into the sky and takes the form of a skull, with a serpent twisting slowly around it. Fire burns the tents to ashes. Muggles being tortured, wizards and witches fleeing, but what from? Dark, looming figures with brilliant skull masks who laugh, shooting Unforgivable curses every which way. How did the Death Eaters get here? There are supposed to be magical barriers that keep people like them away—

"Sohpia! Sophia, wake up!" Cried my mother.

"W-what happened?"

"You were in a trance again, it looked as if you were in a coma … what did you See?" asked Mum in a rather worried tone.

I took a deep breath to stop me from shaking, "Death Eaters. They… they set fire t-to everything! I even saw the D-dark Mark!" I tried to keep the panic out of my voice, but it was in vain, "I think we should leave, right now, and warn the others, t-too." I was half sobbing by this point.

"When will it happen?"

"After the quidditch game, in the middle of the night."

"Okay, I'll alert every one, and you get our stuff ready, then we can apparate home."

"Er, okay, but be careful."

Half an hour later, I could here laughing. They were laughing. At me, at my mum. Stupid gits. Mum came in. "They didn't believe me… said I was lying, and… and laughed."

"Oh, Mum, it's okay. I think it's best if we just leave right now, and then, then they'll see that we were right."

Two Days Later

"Sophia, come look at the Daily Prophet." Mum called out to me. I walked down the stairs and took the paper off of the kitchen table. It read:

Two days ago, a mob of You-Know-Who's followers arrived and attacked a muggle family and a few wizarding families as well. The Ministry For Magic is doing everything they can to find what happened to their security systems. …

I only got to the first two sentences before I bolted up my room and slammed the door, anger welling up inside me. I was angry at the people, for not believing my predictions to be true. I was angry at the Ministry, for not having better security spells placed on the boundaries of the camping grounds and the stadium. Lastly, I was angry at Voldemort for ever having been born. If it were not for him, and his stupid Death Eaters, that article wouldn't have been published.