Here's an interesting tidbit for you! While I was thinking of the plot for this story, I pictured Regina as looking like Mandy Musgrave and Daphne as looking like Blake Lively.

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Another thing is the fact that I want to change this story's title. Any suggestions?

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And last but not definitely not least, REVIEW!! They inspire me to write to my very best ability! So basically, more reviews = better/longer/more frequent updates :D

Chapter Ten

Daphne and I reached Professor Slughorn's office at breakneck speed, but nobody was there. Apparently, Ron had already been taken to the hospital wing and was being treated as we stood there breathing heavily, clutching the stitches in our sides.

After a moment or two, Daphne asked, "How did you know?"

I knew exactly what she was talking about. I took a deep breath and said, "I'm psychic."

"I'm serious."

"I am, too."

There was a slightly uncomfortable pause.

"Well, you can't be a Seer," Daphne said matter-of-factly. "You don't have any ancestors who were Seers. All of your ancestors are Muggles." After a short pause, she added quickly, "I don't mean that in a bad way, I'm just trying to say that it's impossible that you're a Seer. It just goes against the grain."

"Muggle-borns are just the descendants of Squibs, meaning that I do have magical ancestry, it's just buried deep, who knows what kind of background I have? But then again, you would probably have to look–"

She cut me off. "Whatever. Why didn't you tell me?"

The wounded look in her eye made me feel incredibly guilty. "Daph, I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd believe me."

"Well, I can't say I'm not a little skeptical about all this, but"–she tapped her chin–"if I was presented with a bit of evidence, I may believe it completely."

I was astonished. "Evidence? Daphne, for your information, I just told you that I knew Ron Weasley was going to be poisoned, before it happened! If that's not evidence, I have no clue what is." I crossed my arms.

"Well, I'm sorry, but I won't accept it until I see it."

"Fine, be ignorant, I don't give a damn," I snapped.

"You're being a bitch!" she retorted.

That deflated me. I sighed and nodded. "Yeah, I know. Sorry," I mumbled.

"It's alright," she replied, a bit halfheartedly. "Well… I guess I'll talk to you later?" It came out as a question, as if she were asking whether our friendship was intact or not.

"I suppose."

She waved and walked off down the corridor toward the Great Hall, disappearing around the corner, leaving me alone except for the portraits, which were strangely still for once. Slumped against the wall outside Professor Slughorn's office, I thought about who would want to kill Ron Weasley. Or who could've managed their way into the very capable Potions professor's office. Then a horrible thought struck my mind: Draco.

"Regina?"

I turned. Speak of the devil and he shall appear… There stood Draco, looking concerned.

"Another vision?" he assumed.

I nodded. "Yes."

"What's happened now?"

"You should know," I replied.

"Why would I? You're the psychic." He smirked.

"Ron Weasley has been poisoned. He drank a glass of oak-matured mead that had some kind of poison in it."

Draco's eyes widened and his smirk died. "That was supposed to go to Dumbledore!" he said loudly. Too loudly, actually.

"Shh!" I hissed. "Do you want everybody to know that you're out to kill the Headmaster?" I said angrily. "And, no offense, but that was a pretty half-arsed assassination attempt."

He sighed. "I know… My plan isn't going so well…"

He looked so tormented, I had to come over there and comfort him. "Draco… are you sure–?"

"Yes, Regina, I'm sure there's nothing you can do," he said exasperatedly.

"You should just let Snape help you!"

His eyes narrowed. "Why should I do that? He's out to steal my glory!"

"You sound like a five-year-old," I snapped. "Listen to me, will you? Just… think about it. Please? For me? You're worrying me, Draco," I told him gently.

"I'm sorry, really." He kissed my forehead. "I would tell you if I could, but I just… can't. It's killing me, keeping secrets from you. But I think it will make it easier for me to finish my plan without having to worry about whether you will be a target on the Dark Lord's hit list or not… I wouldn't be able to live with myself if something happened to you because of the Death Eaters…"

I touched his cheek. "Hush. I'll be okay," I said reassuringly. "Don't worry about me. I can take care of myself. You know that anybody who gets in my way tends to get their ass kicked." I smirked, remembering the time I used the Furnunculus hex on Pansy Parkinson with amusing results. That earned me detention with Snape, but it was totally worth it.

Draco smirked as well. "That's very true."

He leaned in to kiss me, but someone cleared their throat behind us.

It turned out to be Professor Slughorn, looking somber, most unlike himself.

"What's happened, Professor?" Draco asked, though he knew full well what had just occured.

"I have just been to the hospital wing," he sighed. "One of the Weasleys – can't remember his name for the life of me – was just poisoned in my office! Now don't you two worry your heads about it, according to Madam Pomfrey he should recover just fine, but it's going to take a while. I just don't understand how that mead became poisoned… And that was some of Rosmerta's, too…" He seemed to be talking to himself now, so Draco and I mumbled, "Goodbye," and left for our dormitories (breakfast was most likely over by this point).

My mind was spinning…