She shot up out of bed and slipped onto the floor. Delphi walked into the bathroom, turned on the light, and locked the door. Every footstep and the barely audible creak of the faucet jumped at her, seeming like a gunshot in an open field. She splashed some water on her face and sighed.

She jumped when she looked in the mirror. Her eyes were glowing red.

"No, no," she repeated to herself as she stumbled back against the wall. She slid down it as the tears blinded her vision. "No, no, I can't be. . ."

This was the second time she'd had this particular nightmare. The first had been the night after shopping with Dean Goldstein.

She stood on a pedestal, in a cloak of greenish-black feathers, staring out into a sea of masks. All were exalting her.

"This is the Augury, my second-in-command," a cold, high-pitched voice announced, calm but loud over the sea of followers that fell silent at his every word. "You will obey her as if she were myself. For she is an extension of myself."

At that last bit, the source of the voice had put his white, corpse-like fingers on her shoulder. She wanted to wriggle free, but she couldn't. She looked to the source of the voice to see a red-eyed man with slits for a nose. Lord Voldemort.

Delphi then heard a triumphant laughter, and looked to her right to see the woman she'd heard was her mother-Bellatrix Lestrange, wearing her finest robes and looking the height of aristocratic beauty.

"All hail the Augury!" Bellatrix declared.

"All hail the Augury!" the masked people-Death Eaters-had roared.

That had been its end, but it frightened Delphi all the same. I had been the Dark Lord's enforcer, second-in-command, she thought through the tears. Is it a sign? Am I going to bring the Dark Lord back? Become. . . That?

I can't, she thought determinedly. I can't be anything like that. I cannot be the Augury.

She'd seen bits of futures in sleep and waking before-small things like when Thorfinn would be the angriest or what Euphemia would say to her. Then there were several that transcended futures to another lifetime perhaps, where she played tea party with her mother.

Never had she wanted to avoid a future she'd predicted so badly. Is that why I got my wand? Because I'm going to be evil? I can't be evil-I can't!

She forced herself to go back to bed, but she lay awake, fretting about her fate.

"Come on, come on, you need to wake up, Delphi!"

Delphi opened her eyes to see a frantic Tahlia standing over her, completely dressed in uniform.

"What time is it?" Delphi demanded.

"It's eight-thirty, and classes start at nine!" Tahlia informed her.

Delphi shot out of bed, grabbed a uniform at random, and hopped into the shower without a word. Once she'd conditioned her curls, giving of a strong aroma of coconut, she ran a comb through it until she deemed it good enough, tied it into a messy bun, and threw on her clothes. She fumbled with her tie and pricked her finger on her Gordian knot pin twice before she pulled on her knee-high socks and slipped on her loafers. She threw her school supplies into the standard issue backpack that had come with her uniforms and followed Tahlia into the elevator, stuffing her room key in her backpack's front pocket.

She sat down at breakfast at the same table with Rowan, Gwillan, Alexa, and Guinevere and glanced at the menu,

"Fruit cup please," she said to her tray.

"I see someone forgot to set an alarm," Guinevere said with a vindictive joy on her face as she scanned over Delphi's disheveled form.

Delphi ignored her and snatched the fruit cup up from her plate and began shoveling it in her mouth. She stood up, cheeks bulging because she was chewing and waved. She dashed down the hall, where a long line of parent volunteers in multi-colored robes were handing out schedules. Delphi got into the line for surnames beginning with L and waited impatiently behind several seventh-years who were wearing much more comfortable clothing beneath their blue robes than the uniforms.

Finally, the line had gotten up to her.

"Delphini Lestrange," Delphi said, sounding much calmer and more confident than she felt.

"Here you go, honey," the witch said with a southern drawl as she handed Delphi the paper with her schedule.

"Thanks," she said before she slipped through the crowd as she possibly could.

"Ten minutes until class begins," Goldstein announced on the intercom.

Delphi glance down at her paper.

Room 136, Mr. Ravenwood, History of Magic.

Delphi glanced at one of the plaques and ran down the hall that had the 30's in it. She passed the classroom twice, and only realized that she'd missed it when she saw the line and checked the room number. Relieved, she stalked to the end of the line next to Rowan.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, just stressed," she said as she tried to regain her breath.

"Understood," he said sympathetically. "Uncle Owen sent an owl asking for my schedule early so that I could walk my schedule as soon as I got here. I did that all day yesterday."

"You have anxiety problems?" Delphi guessed.

"Yeah," he admitted, looking down at his shoes.

"Oh, sorry," she said. "I-I understand."

The silence between the two of them was broken when Mr. Ravenwood opened the door to his classroom. Delphi followed the others in, curious what was inside.