Chapter 23.

The door opened and Rumbleroar and Cornelia Fuck stomped out angrily. Then Dumbledork and Rumbleroar saw us.

"ROAAARRRRRR!" Rumbleroar shouted angrily. Dumbledork glared at him.

"Oops he made a mistake!" he corrected him in his weird text-talk voice. "he means hi everybody cum in!"

Well, we all followed suit along with all the other students. I sat between Ginny and Draco and opposite B'lack Keys. Fred and George started to make some Electric Presidents jokes. They both looked exactly like James and Oliver Phelps. I ate some organic granola and drank some pureed bok choy. Then I heard someone shouting angrily. I looked behind me - it was…Hipster? He and Draco were fighting with each other.

"Emotions are not cool." I reminded Draco, who shrugged.

"Chill, Potter." he said. "Yelling is so overrated."

Hipster frowned. "And what would you know, Malfoy, you prat?"

"You're no longer part of the prophecy." replied Draco. "I'm no longer obligated to respect you."

Dude, what were they even talking about? All I know is it didn't have to do with me, so I was a little confused as to why it was happening in my story.

"You don't have to. But now that I've been spending so much more time around you, I've got some information on your little side project." said Hipster. And then Draco jumped on him. They started to fight and beat up each other.

Dumbledore yelled at them but they didn't stop. All of a sudden, a terrible man with red eyes and no nose flew in on his Swiffer WetJet. All the glass in all of the windows exploded. Zoey Brooks started to cry. Hipster and Draco stopped fighting. I stopped eating. Everyone gasped. The room fell silent... Voldemort!

"A-Dawg!" Darth Vader, who was also there, shouted. "Y'all done failed yo' mission. Now I's gon' kill you an' I gon' shank Hipster too! So you best kill him now or I's gon' kill Draco, yo!"

"You're not even in this story." I reminded him, and he flew away.

"Whatever, yo!" Voldemort laughed crudely. "Kill him, or I gon' kill him anyway!" Then he flew away cackling.

I started to cry tears of PBR. Draco came to comfort me. Suddenly my eyes rolled back in a totally lame gothic way. I had a vision: a bolt of lightning flashed through the sky, and there in the Hogwarts courtyard was Voldemort, coming to kill Draco while Draco mixed tracks on his ironic turntables.

"Oh." I muttered disinterestedly.

"Aquamarine, are you alright." asked Draco.

"Yeah, yeah." I stood and brushed crumbs off my pajama pants..

"Something's not right here." said Hipster all concerned, whipping out his wand.

PBR kept running down my cheeks. Pabst tried to lick my face, and I punched him in the nose.

"Dude, it's all good." said B'lack Keys. "But you might wanna ask Professor Sinatra about the visions."

"Yeah, whatever." I said, and we went to class.

Chapter 24.

Both of us had Deviation next, so I got to ask Professor Sinatra about the visions. Trelawney had retired, so now the ghost of Frank Sinatra taught the class. It was kind of awesome.

"Good afternoon, everybody, come in." announced Professor Sinatra. He smelled at me with his long nose and then smiled at me with his mouth. Basically, he's the coolest fucking teacher ever. Today he was wearing a cool vintage dress suit and shined shoes. We entered his cool hipster coffeeshop classroom. I half-raised my hand as soon as I sat down, keeping my wrist limp so as not to seem too eager. I was wearing chipped Polish nail polish, which is better than British nail polish, because, like, hello.

"What is it, Aquamarine?" he asked. "Hey, I love your nail polish. Where'd you get it, Estonia?"

"Poland." I answered. All the retards who didn't know where Poland was gave me weird looks. I rolled my eyes at them. "Well, I have to talk to you about some things. When do you want to do it."

"How about now?" he asked. "I mean, it's not like I have a class to teach or anything."

"Whatever." I said.

"Class dismissed, everyone." Professor Sinatra said, and everyone left happily. "Except for you, Zoey Brooks." He pointed at Zoey and some other cool girls. "Please do exorcise 1 on page 3. Ha, 'exorcise'. 'Cause I'm dead. Get it?"

"No. Hey, bitch move." I complained, since Zoey's kind of cool even if she does look like Jamie Lynn Spears. Sinatra shrugged. "Okay, so I'm having lots of visions." I said in a flat, listless voice. "I'm so worried is Draco going to die."

He gave me a black crystal ball to look in. I stared blankly at it. "What do you see?" he asked. I mumbled something. "Excuse me?" he prompted.

"I said I see a flower crown and a soft-grunge cat."

Sinatra was just about to tell me that was just a normal cat and it was actually a death omen when there was a knock at the door. I looked over at it. It was Draco. He was looking really mainstream wearing hemp pants, a My Morning Jacket t-shirt, and no shoes.

"You're dismissed." said Frank Sinatra, sighing heavily.

"Bye, bitch." I said waving. Sinatra was about to yell at me, but I left before I could hear anything.

I went to Draco and saw that Hipster was there with him. We both followed Draco together and I was secretly excited, wondering who I'd get to paint today.

Chapter 25.

I followed Draco, wondering if we were going to draw again. We went outside and then we sat Draco's black car. Hipster went back to class. How ironic and unexpected! That kid is the indiest guy I've ever met.

"Aquamarine, what did Professor Sinatra say." whispered Draco as he touched my hand tenderly.

"He said he would tell me what the visions meant tomorrow." I grumbled. Draco took out a blunt and smoked it thoughtfully. Then he flew the car into a tree, not on purpose. Draco cursed and then we got out of the smoldering wreck and wandered into the forest. Draco began humming a Vampire Weekend song.

We started commenting on each other's cloves fervently. He took out his cell phone and instagrammed a picture of me with a sexy sepia filter. Then we began to have an indie band trivia contest before lying down on the grassy floor to watch the shooting stars. We began speaking French passively. Frenching, if you will.

I fell asleep in the grass and began to dream. In it, a black guy was shooting two Indian men with long black hair.

"No! Please don't fucking kill us!" they pleaded, but he just kept shooting them. He ran away in a bright pink limousine.

"Huh." I muttered, waking up.

"Aquamarine, what's wrong." Draco asked me as I opened my ocean blue eyes.

I started to cry and tears of PBR went down my face, because I'm so indie it runs through my veins. I told Draco to call Hipster. And then I realized who the Indian guys in the dream were supposed to represent, maybe: famous porn star Luscious and his counterpart, Serious!