CHAPTER TWELVE
VICTIMS AND VISIONS
Saturday morning Sam woke early. He lay on his back in bed for a moment, the green curtains around his bed hiding the dormitory but he could hear the breathing and snores coming from the other boys to tell him he wasn't alone.
Quietly, he sat up, yanked the curtains to one side and moved to the trunk at the end of his bed to pick out clothes. Once dressed, Sam crept past Malfoy, Goyle, Crabbe, and the others and headed into the Common Room.
"Morning," a voice startled Sam as he stepped into the room and he glanced around to see Tracy sitting on the black leather couch, a book on her lap.
"Hi," Sam greeted, relaxing and smiled, "Why are you up so early?"
Tracy shrugged, "I could ask you the same thing."
"Want to get some breakfast?" Sam asked. The girl nodded and closed her book, holding it under her arm as she stood.
"What are you reading?" Sam asked as they left the Slytherin dormitory.
"This? I picked it up from the Library the other day. It's about the witch trials that happened in the United States back in the seventeenth century. It's fascinating. I think you'd like it."
"Cool," Sam agreed.
The Great Hall wasn't as crowded as Sam had expected. He guessed that most of the students were sleeping in or had already come and gone, and were now working on homework.
He and Tracy sat at the Slytherin table, which was nearly empty but for some older students picking blearily at their breakfasts.
Sam glanced over at the Gryffindor table, searching for Dean or Ron, as he grabbed a crumpet off a platter and began smearing lemon curd on it.
"What do you want to do today?" he asked Tracy as she daintily picked up a piece of bacon.
"I need to finish my homework," she reminded him.
Sam sighed, "Right."
Tracy smiled and pushed her glasses up her thin nose, "But I want to go outside to do it."
Sam smiled.
"Do you know how to play Gobstones?" she asked Sam.
He shook his head, "I only have an old Wizard's Chess set at home. I used to play it with Ms Gibbons because Dean thought it was boring."
"Who's Ms Gibbons?" Tracy asked, slicing up a fried egg.
"Our neighbour," Sam explained, "She used to look after Dean and me when we were younger."
The girl nodded, "I'll teach you how to play Gobstones. It's pretty fun. Roger thinks it's lame but that's only because he doesn't think about anything but Quidditch."
Sam chuckled, "He sounds just like Dean."
W
Finished breakfast, Sam and Tracy returned to their Common Room so she could go and get her Gobstones set.
Now that it was a little later in the morning, the rest of the Slytherins were starting to make an appearance, namely the other first years.
Draco Malfoy, dressed in all black and flanked on either side by Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle stepped out of the doorway to their dormitory and caught sight of Sam.
"Oh, you're still here are you?" he drawled. His cronies chuckled.
"Yeah," Sam replied, "What else were you expecting?"
Malfoy frowned slightly, "Don't you talk back to me!"
"I got them, Sam!" Tracy's voice rang out as she ran from the girls' dormitory, clutching a wooden box to her chest.
Sam stood and moved to Tracy's side. He smiled at Malfoy.
"Have a good breakfast," he called as he turned and left the Common Room.
As he and Tracy walked down the hall, she peered over her shoulder.
"What was that about?"
"Just Malfoy being Malfoy," Sam muttered.
"Glad you came out when you did," he added, "He looked ready to jinx me."
Tracy smiled, "I'd like to see him try. We've barely learned any spells. He'd be hard-pressed to turn your head into a cantaloupe or something like that."
Sam glanced at her, eyes wide, "You can do that?"
Tracy shook her head, smiling.
They headed outside and were greeted with a warm, sunny morning. Many other students from other Houses were taking advantage of the pleasant weather as well and were walking along the edge of the Black Lake, sitting beneath trees with books, or laying on the lawn watching the clouds drift past.
"Come here!" Tracy grabbed Sam's hand and pulled him towards a stone bench a trio of Ravenclaws had just vacated. Tracy sat on one side of the bench and Sam on the other, watching her curiously as she opened the box that held her Gobstones, to reveal thirty marble-sized stones and a piece of white chalk. The stones were dull and chipped in places, fifteen of them made of a silvery metal and other fifteen made of an iridescent, white stone.
"These belonged to my Grandmother," Tracy explained, somewhat apologetically, "They're made of hematite and opal. Not the most expensive. I'd love a gold and silver set but Dad says its too much money, especially when this one is still good."
Sam reached out and picked up a hematite 'stone', "I think they're neat."
Tracy smiled and tucked her hair behind her ears. She picked up the piece of chalk and drew four circles on the stone bench, the middle small and the next three growing increasingly larger.
"I'll teach you classic Gobstones to start with," Tracy told Sam, as she dumped the other fourteen hematite stones into his hands.
They spent the next ten minutes or so playing Gobstones, Sam getting quite a shock the first time he lost a point to Tracy, only to have one of her stones squirt a foul-smelling liquid into his face.
Spluttering and wiping his face with his sleeve, he glared at the girl as she howled with laughter.
"I'm… I'm s-sorry!" Tracy apologized as she rocked back, unable to control her fits of laughter, "I sh-should ha-have told you!"
"Yeah, you should have," Sam muttered, but smiled, his friend's glee infectious.
"Awww isn't that sweet," a high-pitched voice nearby spoke up, "Whiny and Davis playing Gobstones together."
Tracy stopped laughing and looked around, spotting Pansy and her gang of girls nearby. Instantly, Tracy gathered the stones on the bench and dumped them into their box.
"Oh you don't have to go," Pansy called, "We won't interrupt."
Tracy stood up and started marching deeper into the school's grounds, not even looking at Sam.
"Tracy!" Sam called, catching up with her, "Hey! Are you okay?"
He noticed his friend lift the hand not holding her Gobstones box and wipe her eyes beneath her glasses.
"Stop," Sam reached out and touched her arm, "What's the matter? Just ignore them, okay?"
Tracy nodded, her eyes red.
"I was up so early because I just couldn't take it anymore," she confided, "Their teasing, I mean."
Sam bit his lip, "You should tell Snape. He can't let that happen."
"Are you going to tell him about Malfoy?" Tracy asked him.
Sam shook his head, "You're different. Snape doesn't hate you."
"He doesn't hate you," Tracy argued. Behind them, they could hear Pansy's shrieking laughter as one of the other Slytherin girls told her something funny.
"Wanna bet?" Sam muttered, "I feel like if I breathe too loudly in his class he'll put me in detention."
"That's ridiculous," Tracy told him.
"You were there when we had our first class," Sam told her pointedly, "You saw how he had it out for me and Harry."
The girl opened her mouth to argue again but then closed it.
"Maybe I should talk to him," she agreed.
"Let's go down to the lake for a bit," Sam changed the subject, catching sight of some first-year Hufflepuffs skipping stones into the water.
"Okay," Tracy said and followed Sam down to the narrow strip of sand that separated the lawn from the lake.
"Hi," Sam said to the Hufflepuffs, recognizing Hannah Abbott and Justin Finch-Fletchley from their first Herbology class.
The two ignored Sam and continued on with their conversation.
"Rude," Tracy muttered. Sam shrugged.
"Want to finish our game?" he suggested and after a moment Tracy agreed and set up her Gobstones again, drawing the circles in the sand with her finger.
They played quietly for a few minutes; Tracy getting a faceful of the foul liquid sprayed from Sam's stone until they were once again interrupted.
"Is that Gobstones?"
Sam looked up to see Hannah Abbott staring at them.
"Yes," Tracy told her, "Do you know how to play?"
Hannah shook her head, "I've heard about it though."
"I can teach you how if you'd like," Tracy offered.
The Hufflepuff girl shook her head again, her pink cheeks going red. She backed away, returning to Justin's side- who was completely absorbed in skipping stones on the lake- and turned her face away, muttering something they couldn't hear to the boy before they both moved farther down the shore.
"Do you think it's because we're Slytherins or because they think I'm going to go berserk and attack them?" Sam asked, trying not to sound too hurt.
"I don't know," Tracy muttered.
"Let's just go," Sam told her, dumping his stones into their box, not feeling much like playing anymore.
"I really should get started on my homework," Tracy told him.
Sam and Tracy started slowly back towards the school, subdued. Just as they had the door open to step back inside, a familiar red-haired boy nearly walked right into them.
"Sam!" Ron cried happily, "We've been looking everywhere for you!"
Beside Ron Weasley stood Harry Potter; both boys smiling.
"You were?" Sam asked, allowing Harry and Ron to step outside and closing the door.
Ron nodded, "We thought you'd be in the Great Hall, but we couldn't see you so we hung around outside the dungeons."
"Didn't see you there either," Ron continued, "But we did see Malfoy."
Sam grimaced.
"Anyway, a bunch of older students are going to practice on the Quidditch pitch," Ron continued, "We thought you might want to come along."
"I have a ton of homework to do," Tracy told the boys.
Although Sam didn't care much about Quidditch, he was happy his friend had thought about him.
"You can finish your homework this evening," he told Tracy, "I'll even help you so it gets don't faster."
The girl hesitated for a moment before nodding.
"Have you seen Dean?" Sam asked as he and Tracy followed Ron and Harry towards the Quidditch pitch.
"He was eating breakfast with Fred, George and Lee," Ron commented, "They were whispering about something. Didn't hear what it was though."
Sam shrugged and stepped onto the pitch where the Ravenclaw team and the Hufflepuff teams were getting ready to practice.
Tracy, holding her Gobstones box under her arm, waved to her brother, Roger, as he stood with his teammates, wearing royal blue robes.
"I can't wait until we're old enough to try out for the House teams," Ron said with longing in his voice.
Sam shrugged, "Better you than me."
"You don't want to try out?" Harry asked, "Ron told me your brother's on the team."
"Yeah," Sam replied, eyes following the players as they flew into the air, streaks of blue and yellow respectively, "He's a Chaser. He practically breathes Quidditch but Chess is more my speed."
The group watched the two teams practice until it was time for lunch.
"Your brother's pretty good," Ron told Tracy.
"I know," she muttered, pushing her glasses up her nose, "He's very proud of his flying."
"What's wrong?" Sam asked.
"Roger doesn't think much of schoolwork," Tracy explained, "Even though he is in Ravenclaw. He's hoping to join one of the national teams once he graduates."
"Well, that's a respectable job," Ron interrupted, "Better than some, innit?"
Tracy just shrugged.
"What do you want to do once we're done school?" Sam asked. Truth be told, he hadn't even thought once what he might want to do after he left Hogwarts. It seemed like he had loads of time before he had to make that decision.
"I think I'd like to be a Healer," Tracy told them, "And work at St Mungo's."
"What's St Mungo's?" Harry asked, "Is it like a hospital?"
Sam nodded, "It is, but for witches and wizards. They can't really go to muggle hospitals if they drink a bad potion or if a magical creature attacks them. It's in London, hidden, of course, like Diagon Alley."
"Instead of doctors and nurses," Tracy continued, "They have Healers."
The Boy Who Lived looked very impressed that the magical community had thought of nearly everything so they would be able to get along without muggle interference, even having their own separate, secret hospitals.
The friends passed the Entrance Hall and paused to peer at the giant hourglasses along one wall, each filled with precious stones that represented each House respectively.
"Look," Sam smiled, "We're in the lead."
"Not for long," Ron argued good-naturedly, "Gryffindor's gonna win the House Cup. You just see."
As they watched, the sapphires that represented Ravenclaw increased; gems from the top of the glass fell, shimmering in the firelight from the torches along the walls to the bottom.
"I think they're going to win," Tracy commented.
Ron, pouting, growled, "Bunch of brown-nosers."
Slipping into a discussion about what they could do to win their Houses more points, the friends stepped into the Great Hall.
Sam and Tracy followed Ron and Harry to the Gryffindor table and sat down, their conversation turned to their upcoming flying lessons, which would be held the following Thursday.
"I'm going to be terrible," Harry muttered as he scooped some chips onto his plate and drizzled ketchup on top, "I just know it. I bet you all have had lots of practice."
"Not really," Sam told him, dishing beef stew into a bowl, "I've only ever flown on Dean's old broom. It's for little kids and doesn't go very high."
"Me 'oo," Ron added, stuffing a Cornish pasty into his mouth.
The boys turned to Tracy. She was peering down at the jacket potato on her plate.
"I don't know how to fly," she muttered, her cheeks going red, "I've never been on a broom."
"Never?" Harry asked, shocked.
Tracy shook her head.
"Not even when you were little?" Ron asked, picking up his second pasty.
"I'm…" Tracy hesitated, lifted her gaze to look at Sam and continued, "I don't like heights."
Ron laughed, perhaps unable to wrap his mind around the fact that a witch would be afraid of heights, and then started choking on pasty.
Sam, pounding his friend on the back, frowned.
"You didn't tell me that," he told her.
"I don't tell many people," Tracy commented, spooning gravy onto her potato, "It's embarrassing."
"What are you going to do on Thursday?" Harry asked, "Can you sit out?"
Tracy shook her head, "I don't think so."
Sam, his hand stinging from hitting Ron's back, patted the girl's shoulder instead.
"Don't worry," he tried to soothe, "I'll be right beside you. I won't let anything happen to you."
Tracy smiled and pushed her glasses up.
"Well, we still have a few days before flying lessons," she announced and stabbed her jacket potato with her fork.
"HEY!" an irritated voice called out and, looking around, the friends saw Percy Weasley making his way down the table towards them.
"Oh brother," Ron muttered.
"I've told you before, they're Slytherins," Percy complained, hands on his hips, "They aren't allowed to sit here."
"Come off it, Percy," Ron said, "It's Sam, it's not like Malfoy's sitting with us."
"Rules are rules, Ron," his older brother continued, "They're to be followed."
"Whatever," Ron muttered and grabbed his third pasty from the platter in front of him.
"I shall have to go to Professors McGonagall and Snape if this continues," Percy told them in a self-important tone.
"Why? Sam and Tracy have been sitting with us on-and-off all week," Ron reminded his brother, waving the pasty in his hand, "If McGonagall wanted them back at their own table, she'd have said something by now."
"Your disregard for the rules is very troubling," Percy told him, "I will write to Mother about you."
Ron shrugged, "Go ahead. She'll probably just tell you off for being a prat anyway."
The older Weasley son's face turned beet red and he stormed off, but not to the teachers' table, instead, he simply sat back down where he had been earlier.
"Why is he so against us sitting here?" Tracy asked.
"He doesn't like that we're Slytherins," Sam told her quickly.
"I know," Tracy sighed, "But surely there are worse rules to be breaking. And Ron's right, if McGonagall had a problem with us being at her House's table, she could have told us anytime this past week."
Both Ron and Sam looked down at their food. They didn't want to tell her the truth. Yes, them being Slytherin was a part of the reason Percy didn't want them sitting together, but it was also that he had some very strong opinions about Sam. Although the boy seemed to humour the rest of his family when the Winchesters were visiting, it was clear he didn't think the youngest member of the family should be fraternizing with his brothers and sister.
Sam stabbed a chunk of beef angrily as he recalled the conversation he and the two youngest Weasleys had overheard shortly after he'd had his first vision at the Burrow. He didn't remember everything that was said but he vividly recalled Percy using the words 'sick' and 'dangerous' and 'nuisance' when speaking with Mr and Mrs Weasley about him.
The rest of the family did not have the same opinion of Sam as Percy did and refused to shun the Winchesters because of him and for that he was very grateful. He didn't know what he'd do if he couldn't be friends with Ginny and Ron.
The friends finished their lunch in relative silence, Sam and Tracy making their way to the Slytherin Common room afterwards so the girl could start on her homework.
Sitting down side-by-side on one of the black leather couches, Tracy sighed as she dumped her textbooks, parchment, ink and quills in between them.
"I should have done the same as you," she told Sam, "And finished this during the week."
"At least the weather's nice," Sam told her, glancing over his shoulder at the sunlight turning the water outside the windows a bright jade green, "So Malfoy and Pansy should stay outside for a while."
Tracy nodded and opened her copy of A Beginner's Guide To Transfiguration.
W
The rest of the weekend was spent doing homework; writing and rewriting essays and answering discussion questions posed by professors.
Finally, on Sunday evening, Tracy rolled up the length of parchment on which she had written an essay for Professor Quirrell on how to tell the difference between vampires and Strigoi.
"Let's go to dinner," Sam told her, "I'm starving."
"I'm just going to put this away," Tracy told him and gathered her school items into her arms and dashed into the girls' dormitory.
Sam watched a group of fourth-year girls walk towards the entrance to the Common Room, giggling, apparently, over a seventh-year boy they thought was cute, and was once again reminded that not everyone who had been sorted into Slytherin was evil. The entire idea of being evil as a requirement to be sorted into the House once again seemed absolutely absurd.
"Ready to go?" Tracy asked as she stepped out of her dormitory and pushed her glasses up her nose.
Sam nodded and they left the Common Room and headed towards the Great Hall.
W
Classes on Monday went well (they had Charms, Transfiguration, and Herbology in the morning) until the afternoon when Professor Quirrell reminded Tracy she had a detention with him and then they had to sit through double Potions with the Ravenclaws.
"He wants to see me after dinner," Tracy told Sam as they left the dungeons and walked back towards the Great Hall for the evening meal, not stopping to drop their books off in their Common Room.
"What do you think he'll make you do?" Sam asked as they sat at the far end of the Slytherin table, away from Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy.
"He said something about an essay as to why I should pay attention in his class," Tracy shrugged, "Probably won't be that bad."
"Can't be as bad as cleaning out cauldrons by hand with Snape," Sam muttered, spooning carrots and peas onto his plate.
All too soon dinner finished and Tracy said goodbye to Sam, heading towards the Defense Against The Dark Arts classroom. Pulling the strap of his messenger bag higher up his shoulder, Sam caught sight of his brother across the hall before he could slink away with the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan.
"Hey! Dean!" Sam called out and raised a hand, waving it in the air so his brother would see him.
The older Winchester stopped and waited.
"Hiya Sammy," Dean grinned, "How's it going?"
Sam smiled back, "Pretty good."
"I see you're hanging around with that girl a lot," Dean commented, winking.
"What about it?" Sam asked, suddenly defensive.
"Nothing! I'm just glad you've got a friend in your own House," Dean raised his hands, laughing slightly, "No, really though, I'm happy for you."
"She looks a bit familiar," Fred Weasley entered the conversation. George was showing Lee something in his pocket off to the side, speaking in low tones so as not to be overheard.
"She's got a brother in Ravenclaw," Sam shrugged.
"I know!" Fred announced, "She's Roger Davis' little sister!"
Dean scowled, "He thinks he such a hotshot."
"Yeah," Fred agreed, "But we've got a better team."
"Anyway," Dean returned his attention to Sam, "I've gotta go. I have an essay I have to write for Professor Sinistra."
"When is it due?" Sam asked, not wanting Dean to go back to his Common Room so soon.
"Tomorrow," Dean answered somewhat sheepishly.
Sam, somehow, was not surprised that his brother would wait until the day before an assignment was due to actually do the assignment.
"I'll see you late, Sammy," Dean turned to leave, George and Lee already disappearing into a throng of students leaving the Great Hall.
"Bye," Sam muttered and sighed, joining the students heading into the Entrance Hall.
Sam walked slowly down towards the dungeons. He didn't really want to be in his dormitory all by himself, without Tracy. But he didn't have much choice. He knew if he were found wandering around the castle, he'd get House points taken away, or worse, wind up with another detention.
Resigning himself to the fact that he would have to face Malfoy and his cronies alone for at least a couple of hours, Sam found the blank space along the wall which hid the Slytherin dormitories, spoke the password quickly and stepped inside. He breathed a sigh of relief; it looked like Malfoy was still in the Great Hall.
Deciding that he could get a head start on his homework, Sam sat down at one of the tables in the Common Room and took out his books, ink, quills and parchment.
He had just started in on his Herbology homework when the secret door to the dormitories opened and Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle stepped inside (the latter two still cramming biscuits into their mouths) quickly followed by Pansy and her group of girls.
"Hey, Winchester!" Malfoy called out from across the room, "Where's your girlfriend?"
Sam ignored the taunt and dipped his quill into his bottle of ink, writing the first sentence of his Herbology homework.
"Winchester!" the blond-haired boy called again, this time coming closer, "I asked you a question!"
Don't answer him, don't look at him; Sam told himself as he continued to write, not wanting to get into a fight again.
"I told you before, Winchester," Malfoy was now right beside Sam, "You'll answer me when I'm talking to you."
Sam stuck his quill into the ink bottle and looked up at the other boy.
"Yes?" he asked.
Malfoy narrowed steel-grey eyes, clearly unsure of how to proceed. From behind him, Pansy started singing, "Whiny and Davis sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"
"Where's your girlfriend?" Malfoy asked.
"She's not my girlfriend," Sam told the other boy, calmly.
"Then why do you always follow her around like a little puppy!" Pansy crowed, cackling as the other girls continued singing.
"I could ask the same about you and Malfoy, Pansy," Sam told the girl, whose face went bright red- either with anger or embarrassment it was hard to tell- and reached out to start packing his things into his messenger bag.
"Don't you talk to her like that!" Malfoy snapped and swept his hand across the table, sending Sam's books, parchment and quills to the floor. The bottle of ink smashed against his copy of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi.
"Why don't you clean up that mess, Winchester?" Pansy asked.
"Or better yet," Malfoy added, smiling cruelly, "Go get your Dad to come here and do it."
Anger flared inside Sam and he stood, hand automatically going to his wand in his pocket.
The blond-haired boy's smile widened, seeing as he had hit a nerve.
"I don't even know why you're here Winchester," he taunted, "You've shown about as much magic as your squib father has."
"Shut up," Sam growled, his grip on his wand tightening.
"When it comes time to pick careers," Pansy added, "You'll end up being a caretaker!"
Sam's hand slipped out of his pocket, his wand feeling hot beneath his fingers.
"I said shut up!" he snapped.
"Ooooh," Pansy cried in mock fear, "I'm so scared!"
"Go ahead," Malfoy egged Sam on, "Do it. We'll see how Snape likes it when I tell him you attacked me."
Sam pointed his wand right at the other boy's face, his hand shaking.
"You'll get expelled," Malfoy jeered, "Then you can follow your Dad around and learn how to clean. Won't he be proud?"
The blond-haired boy grinned deliriously, clearly imagining Sam carrying a mop and pail behind his father, watching his classmates learn magic while he was stuck with his janitorial duties.
"Oi!" the group of eleven-year-olds quieted as a loud, rough voice cut through the laughter and they turned to see a large thirteen-year-old boy glaring daggers at them.
"Wot's going on here?" the older boy demanded.
Pansy elbowed Draco. The blond boy puffed out his chest and stepped towards the third year student, "We were… uh…"
"You were picking on this boy," the older Slytherin said matter-of-factly, pointing at Sam.
"He's a-" Draco began but the thirteen-year-old interrupted.
"-A Slytherin. Just like you, just like me. There's no reason for you lot to be teasing him. The Hat sorted him into this House and you know its never been wrong yet."
"But-" Pansy stepped up beside Draco and tried to defend their position.
"If I see you at it again," the thirteen-year-old threatened, "You'll have the entire Quidditch team to answer to."
Pansy opened her mouth but Draco grabbed her shoulder and tried to steer her away. He had seen his House's Quidditch team and knew better than to get on their bad side.
"Come on, Pansy, he's not worth it," Reluctantly, Pansy motioned to the other girls and they followed her into their dormitory. Draco, Goyle and Crabbe retreated into their own dormitory quickly, as well, leaving Sam to gather his spilt belongings by himself.
"You all right?" the thirteen-year-old asked as Sam shoved his wand back into his pocket and bent down to collect his items.
He nodded.
"Why'd you do that?" he asked. For the whole first week of school, the older students had been witness to Malfoy and Pansy picking on both him and Tracy without interfering.
"I was getting tired of their noise," the older boy commented off-handedly, but then shook his head, "I'm half-blood too. I couldn't sit back and let them bully you. That might have been me in my first year."
Sam nodded, "Thanks… um…"
"Warrington," the third-year replied, "Cassius Warrington."
Sam smiled, "Thanks, Cassius."
The older boy didn't smile back, "Just keep your head down. I won't step in again."
Sam nodded. They gathered his belongings together in silence before the older student went into the boys' dormitory.
Sam decided to stay in the Common Room and wait for Tracy to return from her detention with Professor Quirrell. To occupy himself, he tried to wipe as much of the ink as he could from his Herbology book.
When Tracy appeared in the secret doorway, Sam decided not to tell her about Malfoy and the others.
W
The next morning, Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy walked past Sam and Tracy as though they were invisible, which suited Sam just fine.
"Daphne told me what happened last evening," Tracy told Sam quietly, at breakfast.
Sam, munching on a piece of toast with blueberry preserve, nearly choked.
"Did she mention she was right there with the other girls while Pansy and Malfoy were teasing me?"
Tracy lifted her gaze to the blonde-haired girl sitting with Lily Moon, Pansy Parkinson, and Milicent Bulstrode.
"I thought she was all right," she muttered.
Sam shrugged and said nothing more. Daphne may be friendly towards Tracy, but she certainly had no qualms about picking on him when in a gang with the other girls.
Their first class of the day was Herbology. Sam dragged his textbook from his bag and tried to pry the pages apart as carefully as possible.
"Here," a girl's voice said from across the table and Sam looked up to see the bushy-haired Gryffindor girl Ron didn't like holding her wand out, "I can help you."
Sam shoved his book towards the girl and she waved her wand, the dried ink cracking on the pages before falling off and crumbling into a fine, black dust.
"Thanks," Sam said gratefully, pulling his book back and turning the crisp, white pages.
The girl gave him a small smile in return before Professor Sprout started talking.
W
In Charms class they revisited the levitation spell they had been learning the previous week.
Sam listened, one hand propping his chin up, as Professor Flitwick reviewed the proper wand-holding, enunciation and wrist movement in order to perform the spell.
As Sam watched the tiny professor make his feather float into the air with ease, something happened, a ripple, no, a shudder went through the classroom and suddenly, just as soon as his teacher and classmates had been there around him, they were gone.
The tables in front of Sam were broken, cracked down the middle, legs ripped off, lying on their sides, chairs stacked haphazardly in the centre of the room as though someone had been planning a bonfire. The windows were smashed, a chill wind screaming through the empty panes. The sconces along the walls empty of fire, casting the room into a gloom. Standing where Professor Flitwick had been mere seconds before, was the wizard with yellow eyes.
This couldn't be happening! Not here! Not at Hogwarts!
Sam sat up, his heart skipping a beat. The wizard was looking straight at him.
Fear erupted in the eleven-year-old and he scrambled over the ruined tables, heading for the nearest exit as quickly as possible.
The yellow-eyed wizard did not follow but held out his bloody hand towards Sam, a smile on his lips.
Sam flung open the door to the classroom and dashed out. The sconces along the hallways were empty and the corridors dark. The boy slipped on something wet on the stone floor- was it blood- and tried to grab onto the bannister as he approached one of the staircases. His hand slid on the stone railing and he had a brief second to see that his palm was indeed smeared with blood, before he fell, striking his head against the railing as he fell and losing consciousness.
W
Sam woke slowly, feeling groggy and sluggish. He didn't feel any pain but he wanted nothing more than to fall back asleep.
"Sammy?" a familiar voice whispered and he forced his eyelids up.
Dean's face peered concernedly down at him.
"Where am I?" Sam muttered, his mouth feeling as dry as cotton, "What happened?"
"You're in the Hospital Wing," Dean told him quietly, "You fell down a staircase."
Sam frowned for a moment, wondering how he could have done, and then recalled the sight of the ruined Charms classroom and the yellow-eyed wizard.
Groaning, Sam closed his eyes again.
"Are you okay? Should I get Madam Pomfrey?" Dean asked.
Sam shook his head and opened his eyes again.
"I…" Sam muttered, "I saw him again, Dean."
His older brother nodded, "Ron told me you had one of your trances."
"Ron talked to you?" Sam asked.
Dean nodded, "He's been waiting out in the hallway since Flitwick brought you here. Madam Pomfrey wouldn't let him in 'cause he's not family."
Sam sat higher on the bed and peered down the long, narrow room that made up the Hospital Wing. Besides him, there was a seventh-year Slytherin girl who looked as though she had tried to magically apply makeup and ended up swelling her face, and a second-year Hufflepuff boy who appeared to be unconscious.
"I want to see him," Sam told his brother, "Is Tracy out there too?"
His heart clenched in fear as he waited for Dean's reply. Suppose Tracy had seen him in his trance and was scared of him now? What if she refused to speak to him, no longer wanting to be his friend? Or worse, what if she started picking on him like Malfoy and the others?"
And speaking of Malfoy; Sam swore under his breath. The blond-haired boy would have been sure to see what had happened.
Madam Pomfrey, the grey-haired, sharp-eyed school matron, sat that Sam was awake and hurried over to him.
"How are you feeling?" she asked, magically making a thermometer appear out of thin air and sticking it into Sam's mouth while she pressed the palm of one hand to his brow, "You had quite the tumble, young man."
Pulling the thermometer out of Sam's mouth, the matron grunted in a self-satisfied way and waved it, causing it to vanish.
"I feel fine," Sam told her, "A little tired, but not hurt at all."
"I should say not," Madam Pomfrey commented, "I do know what I'm doing."
Sam peered quizzically at his brother.
"You cracked your head open, Sammy," Dean told him, "Broke your nose and some ribs."
Sam cringed. He was very glad Madam Pomfrey was a competent witch.
"Can my friends come in?" he asked the matron.
"I think not," she decided, "You're still healing."
"But I'm all right now!" Sam argued.
"Madam Pomfrey, they've been waiting to see since Charms class," Dean took his brother's side.
Sam peered desperately at the matron, using what Dean affectionately called his 'puppy-eyes' on the woman.
"Oh, all right," she acquiesced, "But only for a few minutes."
Dean grinned and stood up from the chair he had been sitting on and hurried towards the door to the hospital wing.
As soon as the door was opened, the elder Winchester brother was nearly bowled over by Ron, Tracy and Harry as they rushed up the aisle.
"Are you okay?"
"What happened?"
"That looked awful!"
"Flitwick cancelled class early!"
"Malfoy couldn't stop laughing!"
"CHILDREN!" The questions and exclamations stopped straight away at the sound of the matron's raised voice.
"I will ask you not to bombard the boy with questions," Madam Pomfrey told them.
"Sorry," Ron muttered, and turned to Sam, "Was it one of your… you know… trances?"
Sam nodded.
"It looked like you were having some kind of a fit," Tracy mumbled, her eyes were bloodshot behind her glasses.
Sam glanced down at the blanket.
"I'm okay," he told them, "I sometimes get these… trances… I have ever since I was a little kid, but they're nothing, really."
He looked up and smiled at Tracy, trying to comfort her.
"Is that sort of thing normal?" Harry asked, his voice uncertain.
"Uh… no," Ron answered, "Not really."
The Boy Who Lived looked like he wasn't sure how to reply to that.
Tracy reached out and touched Sam's hand.
"That was really scary, Sam," she muttered.
Slowly, the boy pulled his hand out from under hers, "It wasn't much fun for me either."
Dean returned, standing behind Ron and Harry.
"Where's Dad?" Sam asked, thinking that his father should be here as well.
"He was here earlier," his brother told him, "When they first brought you in. But once he realized you were going to be okay he left."
Sam lowered his head, slightly hurt.
"Okay," Madam Pomfrey's voice interrupted, "I think that's enough. This boy needs his rest."
"How long do I have to stay here?" Sam asked.
"I'd like to keep you overnight if that's all right with you," the matron commented sarcastically and Sam nodded, chagrinned.
"You can go back to your dormitory in the morning," she added in a softer tone once Sam's friends and brother had left the Hospital Wing.
SPN
Albus Dumbledore sat behind his desk, his fingers tented in front of his face, as he peered at the teachers assembled before him.
"What are we supposed to do, Headmaster?" Professor Flitwick asked, "Surely this has to do with-"
"That poor boy!" Sprout interrupted, "How can we help?"
"What do you think, Severus?" Professor McGonagall turned to the Potions Master, "Sam Winchester is in your house."
Snape looked as though he was loathed to take on any form of responsibility regarding John Winchester's youngest son.
"I think that for now, we watch and keep the child safe," Dumbledore spoke up.
The teachers turned to him.
"That's it?" McGonagall asked, stunned, "Do nothing?"
"Does John know why this is happening?" Flitwick asked.
"I have not told John about the curse," Dumbledore admitted, "I am waiting for the right moment."
"Forgive me, Headmaster," Snape spoke in his quiet tone, "But when do you believe the right time will be? When the boy is killed because of this?"
"Who says that's going to happen?" McGonagall asked, glaring at Snape, "Azazel's still in Azkaban, is he not?"
"Yes," Dumbledore answered, "He is still in Azkaban."
The Transfigurations teacher seemed to relax somewhat.
"Do you suppose the others are experiencing the same affliction?" Sprout asked tentatively.
Dumbledore inclined his head, "I am not sure. But I will send a letter to Ilvermorny straight away."
"I want all of you to watch young Sam and keep him safe if he does go into another trance," Dumbledore told the Heads of Houses.
As they turned to leave, the Headmaster called out to the Potions teacher.
"Severus, stay for a moment if you will," he asked of the younger man, "I wish to speak with you in private."
Author's Note:
Thanks to burninglikeacid, IchigoMoonCutter, SPN Mum, Sallyannerenee, and Mama's Stories for reviewing.
Please take a moment to review and I'll try and update again soon!