Chapter Two: Powers
November 2023
Rose Weasley held her breath as she quietly walked down one of the many corridors at Hogwarts. It was after midnight, and even though she herself was Head Girl, she did not want to be caught out after hours.
Her cousin's invisibilty cloak was draped over her, but the lack of being seen did not counter being heard. She already had to backtrack to avoid running into the headmistress, Professor McGonagall, and Mr. Filch's kitten, Annoying Abby (as Hugo dubbed her). It took twenty minutes to lose both of them, and Rose was determined to get to her destination before the sun came up.
As she passed the statue of Boris the Bewildered on the fifth floor, Rose's heartbeat quickened with excitement. She stood in front of the door to the left of the statue, then looked up and down the corridor to see if anyone was there.
"Pumpkin spice," she whispered, and the door opened. The seventeen year old witch slipped inside and locked the door.
The prefects' bathroom was enormous; several stalls of toilets against one wall, sinks against another, and a large, pool sized tub in between. Rose dropped the invisibility cloak onto the floor and took a step towards the bathtub. She caught a movement to her left and looked over, relaxing when she saw it was her own reflection in one of the mirrors.
She sighed at her own image. Her red hair was long and curly, and despite it being the same texture as her mother's, Rose was able to tame the frizz so it was silky. She ran a hand through it, then started to remove her clothing.
Rose kept her eyes away from the mirror as she undressed. She hated looking at her body when she was naked, which was why she always wore as many clothes as she could. She was thin and short, with pale skin and muscular legs, and it made Rose feel almost masculine. She frowned and kicked her clothes away from her, then lifted her hand towards the tub with her palm out.
Instantly, a fuzzy sensation formed in the pit of her stomach, and Rose's vision turned blue. She grinned as the smell of salt water filled her nose, and she flicked her wrist, making all of the taps around the bathtub turn on.
For as long as she could remember, Rose was able to control any form of water she came across. She could turn taps on and off with a flick of her wrist, she could make raindrops go in any direction she wanted with a thought, and she could make her water float in midair. Ever since her parents found her sitting in the water when she was little, she was careful not to get caught by anyone, but that didn't mean she was going to stop.
She looked at her reflection once more and her smile broadened; her eyes were glowing, just like they always did.
Rose dropped her hand and the taps stopped flowing. Her vision went back to normal, and she gently slid into the water. Her skin tingled pleasantly, and a satisfied sigh escaped Rose's lips. She swam to the middle of the tub, then submerged completely.
While Rose loved being able to control water, her favorite ability was being able to breathe under it. She sat on the bottom of the tub and crossed her legs, then opened her mouth and inhaled deeply. She felt her lungs filling with water, and instead of making her choke, the water acted like oxygen. Rose laughed as bubbles escaped her lips and floated upwards.
There was no explanation for why Rose could do this. She had tried looking it up in the library, but nowhere in the thousands of books did it say that anyone could breathe underwater without gillyweed or some kind of transfiguration. She had thought of going to a professor to ask if they knew anything, but she was afraid they would send her to St. Mungo's for testing. Her parents' frightened reaction was burned in her memory forever, and so Rose was alone.
She sighed and closed her eyes. When she was little, she thought that she would grow out of the strange powers. Now, she hoped that she would always have them.
"Today's class will feature you lot identifying magical plants," Professor Longbottom instructed to the various seventh years. "I'll put you into pairs, and you'll work together to determine which plants are which, without textbooks!"
Scorpius Malfoy rolled his eyes and suppressed a groan. How they were supposed to know which plants were which without looking at their notes was beyond him. He looked around the greenhouse to see some students quickly looking through their books as if trying to memorize every plant, and he snorted.
"Mr. Malfoy!" Scorpius looked towards the Herbology teacher when his name was called.
"Yes, sir?" he answered. Longbottom pointed to the other side of the room.
"You'll be with Mr. Potter at Table E," he announced, and Scorpius sighed. He picked up his backpack and started to walk towards his assigned table. As he passed him, Longbottom whispered into Scorpius' ear.
"It's only because I know you two are brilliant students. The quicker you get this done, the quicker you can both be excused."
Scorpius smiled at his teacher, then continued on his way. Even though his father had told him to stay away from the Potter and Weasley children, Scorpius didn't think there was anything wrong with them. They were nice people, and some of them, especially Albus Potter, mostly kept to themselves.
Scorpius dropped his bag onto the floor and sat at the table next to the youngest Potter boy. Albus Potter had incredibly messy black hair and green eyes brighter than most of the plants in the room. Scorpius had only caught glimpses of Harry Potter at Platform 9 and 3/4, but Albus looked like an exact replica of him, minus the glasses.
"Potter," Scorpius greeted, nodding towards him. Albus looked up and nodded back, then went back to looking at his book.
"No amount of cramming is going to help us out here, Potter," Scorpius mused, and Albus looked up again and grinned.
"I'm not cramming," he replied. "I got this book from the library the other day."
Scorpius looked at the cover and saw a picture of some kind of plant. He raised an eyebrow, and Albus laughed at his expression.
"Some of us like to read for fun, you know," he teased as he closed his book and put it in his own bag. Scorpius shook his head in disbelief.
"Your cousin is rubbing off on you, Potter," Scorpius said, referring to the know-it-all Rose Weasley.
"I have a million cousins, Malfoy," Albus retorted.
"Smart ass," Scorpius muttered.
"Leave Rosie alone," Albus told him, ignoring what he said. "Come on, let's get started."
Scorpius looked at the pot on their table. Inside it were several fat, pink pods. Scorpius poked one with his wand, but nothing happened.
"It doesn't even look like a plant," Scorpius muttered, and Albus snorted.
"It's a puffapod," Albus informed him. "There are shiny beads inside, and when you drop them they burst into flowers."
Scorpius stared at Albus in surprise. "How do you know?" he asked.
Albus shrugged and lifted one of the pods up. "I just do," the dark haired wizard answered.
Scorpius watched as Albus brushed a finger across the pink pod, and tiny flowers bloomed in the path his finger made. Scorpius was about to ask him how that happened when he noticed Albus' eyes.
They were glowing green.
Scorpius was speechless. He stared in fascination at the glowing orbs, his mind going a million miles an hour. Albus continued to trace around the pod and more tiny flowers grew.
"What's going on, boys?"
Scorpius jumped as Professor Longbottom spoke from behind them, and Albus dropped the pod in surprise. Scorpius watched his eyes dim back to normal, then looked at the pod. The tiny flowers had disappeared, and instead the pod had done what Albus said and burst into bigger, pink flowers.
"That's a puffapod, sir," Albus murmured, looking up at Longbottom. Scorpius barely heard the conversation between pupil and teacher until Longbottom told them they could leave. Albus quickly gathered his things and practically ran for the door, leaving Scorpius sitting in his confused state.
His eyes... I haven't ever seen anyone's eyes glow like mine...
"Albus!"
Minerva McGonagall rushed into her office, panic evident on her features. It took a lot to frighten the headmistress. After all, she had fought in two wizarding wars, and bravery was one of a Gryffindor's most admirable qualities!
However, when something was jeopardizing her students' safety, that was when the elderly woman was most afraid.
Minerva went straight to the portrait behind her desk, looking up into the clear blue eyes of the headmaster before her, Albus Dumbledore. He studied her from behind half-moon glasses, a calm expression on his face, quite unlike the desperate look on Minerva's.
"What is it, Minerva?" he asked quietly.
"I had just spoken to Neville Longbottom, and he told me that something strange had happened to young Mr. Potter," Minerva replied, sitting on her desk. "Do you remember the prophecy we heard over twenty years ago?"
"The one about the four children of nature, am I correct?" Albus queried.
"Yes, that one. Well, Longbottom said that Potter's eyes were glowing green, and he was making flowers appear with his finger!" Minerva stood up once more and began to pace in front of the portrait. Albus followed her with his eyes, noticing the lines of worry on her face were beginning to deepen.
"If Potter is one of the four children, that means that the prophecy is beginning," she continued. "Albus, the prophecy says that evil is going to return to the world! We can't let that happen!"
"There is no stopping a prophecy, Minerva," Albus stated. "Sadly, if Mr. Potter is one of the children, there is nothing we can do except make sure he is safe, and unites with the other three."
Minerva sighed and stopped pacing. She looked over at the pensieve that was resting against one of the walls.
"Should we tell him?" she whispered, looking back at her old friend. "What should we do, Albus?"
Albus pressed his fingers together and stayed silent for a few moments. Minerva gave him a pleading look.
Finally, he dropped his hands and responded.
"Wait until the others are identified," he instructed. "'Three must unite to save the fourth from doom'. He won't be able to do anything until we at least know who two others are."
Minerva nodded. "I guess you're right," she sighed. "But if the others are never identified...?"
"If we do not know who they are before the new year, you can tell him," Albus nodded. "But do not try to prevent this. The last time someone tried to prevent a prophecy from coming true, Harry Potter's parents were killed."
Hmm... I'm not too happy with this, but I decided to upload it, since it's fitting in with what I have planned. Thanks for the reviews, darlings :)