Chapter 14: Adjusting
Aelita climbed the stairs towards the Divination classroom. Madam Pomfrey, the new Head of Gryffindor House, had recently instructed her to meet with some of the teachers of the third year electives. It was two weeks into the term, and she had already blown through first and second year material, much to the shock of all her peers. Even Hermione was impressed. She had already spoken with the professors for Muggle Studies, Arithmancy, and Ancient Runes. Professor Trelawney was the next teacher she was going to meet. She had to choose two more classes to start taking tomorrow, so she had to make a quick decision.
Aelita missed a step and had to drop her bag in order to catch herself. Thankfully, little fell out, while her wand and football came dangerously close to falling back down the tower. She quickly snatched them up, along with her bag, and kept climbing.
She had received her wand from a selection of Ollivander's wands that first morning in Professor McGonagall's office. She tried dozens of wands, leaving the Headmistress's office in a disarray of broken teacups and scattered books. Strangely, only the very last wand worked for her, yew with a unicorn hair. When the wand "chose" her, as Ollivander worded it, the elderly man stared at her for quite some time like he had never seen a girl before.
"Where did you say you were born again?" he had asked her quietly.
"I didn't," Aelita had replied. "But I don't mind saying so. I was born in Canada."
"And who is your father?" he inquired further, seeming to do so very delicately.
"Franz Stones," she had answered, frowning slightly. "Why?"
"Just curious," Ollivander replied and said no more about the subject.
As Aelita climbed, she thought about the classes. She tried to focus on her problems with X.A.N.A. and how these classes would help. Ancient Runes seemed to be a waste of time; the clues near the safe weren't any kind of runes at all. Care of Magical Creatures seemed interesting, although she didn't think she could really use it. She lived the majority of her life as a Muggle so Muggle Studies would be a joke. Divination could help her learn how to control her visions of the past and future. Arithmancy seemed like another good option for her, if for no other reason because it was interesting.
She approached the door to the Divination classroom, took a deep breath, knocked.
"Enter," a woman's voice called out.
Aelita opened the door and was taken aback by the shape and layout of the classroom. It was circular, there were round tables instead of desks in what Aelita figured was the back of the room, and each row of tables rose up higher than the one in front of it. In the front of the classroom was a relatively small wooden table with a small crystal ball on it. Behind the table sat a woman with long, curled, dirty blond hair. She wore the most gigantic pair of glasses Aelita had ever seen. It made the woman's green eyes appear to be twice the size as normal. Aelita wondered how the world looked while gazing through those glasses.
"Professor Trelawney?" Aelita asked the woman, who nodded. "My name is –"
"Miss Aelita Stones," Professor Trelawney interrupted.
"Was that a prediction?" Aelita asked, sounding too much like a little schoolgirl.
"If you mean by knowing that you were coming to speak to me if you were interested in my class from this letter from Professor McGonagall," the woman replied with a smile, "then, yes."
"Oh," Aelita replied, smiling sheepishly. Professor Trelawney gestured to the seat across from her before proceeding to give an overview of Divination.
As Professor Trelawney spoke, Aelita gradually became more and more skeptical of what she could learn from this woman. Aelita had already learned the basics of some techniques like reading tealeaves when attending various festivals from Muggle fortunetellers back home. On top of that, Aelita nearly twitched in irritation each time the phrase "the Inner Eye" occurred in Professor Trelawney's talk. Towards the end of the ten-minute speech, Aelita was trying not to show the irritation and disappointment on her face.
"Would you care to see some of my techniques?" Professor Trelawney asked. Aelita nodded a little too vigorously. Thankfully, it went unnoticed. "May I see your palms?"
Aelita held out her hands. The older woman examined Aelita's palm, running a finger or two along the various creases and lines. Every so often, she would pause, frown, and keep going, leaving Aelita a little concerned. She seemed very interested in a long line on Aelita's right palm.
"Interesting," Professor Trelawney mumbled. "You have occasional visions of the future, correct?"
Completely stunned, Aelita asked, "How did you know?"
The woman smiled and pointed at the line that had really interested her. It ran from Aelita's pinky to the base of her index finger. She explained, "This line does not appear on most people's palms, let alone on someone's right hand. It usually appears on the left hand of a Seer, indicating that they were born with the gift of seeing the future. I can make it out on your left hand, but only if I'm looking for it. I have one myself but not as clearly defined as the one on your right hand, which I assume is your dominant hand, correct?" Aelita nodded. "Then that means, while you had been born with it, you really developed the gift at some point in your life. And by the looks of some of these other lines, it was around a time of emotional distress about your family.
"Not many can appropriately identify the smaller and less noticeable lines and crisscrosses. These very small lines here," she indicated a pair of parallel lines that intersected the first line but were only a centimeter long, "represent distress. When there are two parallel lines with the same exact length, the distress is centralized around familial distress. With the lines being in the center of your, we'll call it 'Seer line', it can be deduced that you developed your gift at a time in your life when you were concerned most about your family. Their length means that you were mainly concerned about one individual."
"Wow," Aelita said, now more courageous and more trusting of the woman seated across from her. "Can you do me a favor, Professor, and keep what I'm about to say between the two of us? It's really personal."
"Of course."
"A few years ago, I had been involved in an accident that caused me to lose all of my memories. I was separated from my parents during the whole ordeal. Afterwards, I started to get visions and dreams of past memories. But then, I had one vision of the future a couple years later, my first one."
"And what had you seen?"
"My father's …" she paused, her voice catching on the lump in her throat. "…death."
"Oh dear," Professor Trelawney said. "That explains the lines then. I hate to ask but did it come true?"
A single tear fell onto Aelita's cheek as she nodded. "Exactly as I had seen it." Professor Trelawney pulled Aelita into a hug, something that Aelita had needed ever since X.A.N.A. had returned.
"Onto a more pleasant topic," Professor Trelawney said before clearing her throat, letting Aelita go. "Have you had any visions of the future since then?"
"On occasion," Aelita answered. "Usually once every couple of months. It mostly occurs when I touch something that is directly related to what I'm seeing. Same thing for visions of the past. Rarely have I seen something in the past that was not a memory of my own."
Professor Trelawney nodded and said, "That is how most Seers begin to use their power."
"But I can't control it," Aelita complained.
"Not yet," Professor Trelawney countered. "I am going to speak with the Headmistress to see if it would be permissible for you to have personal instruction instead of limiting yourself to a classroom full of children."
"That would be great! Thank you so much, Professor!"
"It is my pleasure. I promise you that I will assist you to master your ability in any way I can. It will be a learning experience for the both of us." On that note, the pair shook hands, and Aelita left the classroom with a smile on her face.
"Time to relax," she thought, glancing down at her football. It was a nice day out, and Aelita intended to enjoy it.
Fifteen minutes later, she was outside on the grounds, kicking and juggling the ball around. She bounced it off her knee, forehead, chest, and different sides of each foot. Unbeknownst to her, a boy with white blond hair was watching her from the covered bridge, contemplating whether to go talk to her.
The past two weeks had been very lonely for Draco Malfoy. No one in Slytherin wanted to talk to him, not even his old friends and acquaintances. A couple of the older Slytherins had tried to curse Draco two days ago, but Professor Slughorn had stopped them and had Draco moved to a private dormitory until things cooled down. The only bright parts of his days were whenever he was with Aelita.
He couldn't help it. He had never met a girl like Aelita. At least, not one he got along so well with from the start. Every day at lunch, Aelita had been kind enough to sit with him at the Slytherin Table. The first day she had done it, a Slytherin boy had grabbed her arm, intending to remove her from the table. Instead, Aelita had somehow managed to break away from his grip, elbow him in the crotch, slip her hand behind the boy's head, and slam him face-first into a steaming bowl of soup as he fell forward, all without taking her eyes off her plate. Nobody had tried to remove her from the table since.
"You know," a voice spoke, causing Draco to jump. "I may not be an expert at girls, but I doubt staring at them longingly from a distance is one of those things girls really like." Draco turned and saw Harry, smirking slightly and leaning against the opposite side of the bridge.
"You're right on that one," Draco replied. Harry raised an eyebrow. "You have many names: Master of Death, the Chosen One, the Boy-Who-Lived. But is Mr. Romantic one of those names? Not a chance." Harry laughed.
"You mean I'm not an expert at girls?" he asked.
"Considering your girlfriend already had a crush on you when she was eleven? That is correct," Draco replied.
"Point taken. The odds were in my favor. But you can't deny the results."
"I guess you're right."
"In all seriousness," Harry then said, placing a hand on Draco's shoulder. "I understand why you like her. And I'm pretty sure she likes you back."
"Really?" Draco asked incredulously.
"Yeah," Harry answered, nodding. "Not many girls would go out of their way to have lunch with a bloke in a different House, especially if that bloke is in Slytherin."
"Or slam anyone who tries to tell her that she shouldn't face-first into a hot bowl of soup?" Draco asked, smiling.
"Definitely," Harry agreed, chuckling.
Loud voices caught the attention of Harry, Draco, and even Aelita, who stopped juggling. A pair of boys were yelling and chasing after a much smaller and younger boy up the hill to the bridge. He couldn't have been older than a first year. He tripped on a loose pebble and fell to the ground, dropping the bag he had been carrying. Some of its contents spilled out. Draco recognized them as colored pencils and sketchbooks, remembering what Aelita had shown him when they explored the Muggle Studies classroom together. The other boys stooped and picked up the sketchbooks.
"Well, well, well," the tall, red-haired boy taunted, looking at the sketchbook. "What do we have here, Nathan?"
Nathan, the round, blond-haired boy, replied, "Looks like a picture book for babies and Muggle toddler, Dorin." He flipped through the pages.
"Give those back, you guys!" the first year pleaded. "Those are mine!"
"That's no way to address your elders," Dorin yelled back, giving the boy a swift kick. Draco saw Harry begin walking towards them out of the corner of his eye.
"Hey!" Draco heard Aelita shout. "Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum!" Dorin and Nathan stopped moving, seeming confused. Draco didn't understand what she had said, but whatever it was, it caused Harry to laugh.
"Yeah, I'm talking to you two with the sketchbooks!" Now angry, the two boys spun around to see Aelita walking towards them from the bottom of the hill, her ball clutched underneath her arm. "Drop the sketchbooks and get lost!" Harry and Draco crept even closer.
Dorin laughed maliciously, eyeing her football. "And what are you going to do about it, Bubblegum Head?"
It was Aelita's turn to laugh. "Teach you better insults for starters."
Nathan turned back to the boy, ignoring Aelita. "Ooh," he said, showing the boy a page. "This is a fancy one." He ripped it out, and Dorin pulled out his wand. Draco and Harry did the same, reaching the entrance to the bridge.
"Stop!" the boy pleaded. "My dad drew that one for me!"
"Let me repeat myself: Drop it and get lost!" Aelita warned again, still twenty feet away.
"Shut up, Mudblood!" Dorin shouted back, pointing his wand at the ripped page. "Incendi – " He never finished the spell. A blast of red light came from both Harry's and Draco's wands, causing Dorin's wand to fly out of his hand. The page flew out of Nathan's hand and into Draco's outstretched hand. Aelita's ball hit Dorin in the back with such force that he flew forward a good five meters before hitting the ground. Nathan spun back around and was forced to look up at Aelita, who was now standing right in front of him and stood at least a foot taller.
"Do I need to repeat myself a third time?" she asked menacingly, scowling. Nathan shook his head fervently. "Then, why are you still here?" He dropped the sketchbook and started to run, Dorin right behind him. They froze when they saw Draco and Harry.
"You heard her," Harry said, tossing Dorin's wand back at him. The two boys kept running.
"You okay?" Aelita asked the first year. He nodded nervously as he collected his belongings. "What's your name?"
"Jason Horst," he replied.
"And their names?" she asked, handing him a small box of pencils.
"Dorin Rorch and Nathan Gristle," Jason answered. "They're second years but are stuck in every class with me."
"And you're better than them at most subjects," Aelita finished for him. He nodded. "Are these your drawings?" She held up an open sketchbook that showed a beautiful drawing of a mountain range.
"Yes," he answered. "I made that when I was ten."
"Wow," Aelita responded, looking at it closely. "It's really good!"
"Th-thanks!" Jason stuttered, smiling. He stood up and gave Aelita a hug. She ruffled his hair and saw Harry and Draco walk up, the latter holding the ripped out page.
"Here," Draco said, handing the page to Jason. "It isn't damaged." Jason's eyes lit up as he grabbed the page before running off. Harry tossed Aelita her football, and she caught it with ease.
"That was impressive," Harry said to her.
"Just helping the kid out," Aelita replied.
"I meant the throw," Harry corrected himself. "This is just a thought, but have you considered joining the Gryffindor Quidditch team?"
"Uh," Aelita answered and shook her head. "I'd have to know what Quidditch is first. I heard some first years mention it in Flying Lessons with Madam Hooch. Does it have anything to do with flying?"
"It only plays a small factor," Draco told her, smiling. Harry chuckled.
Aelita rolled her eyes, saying jokingly, "Have I taught you nothing? That sarcasm was abysmal at best."
"He's better at snide remarks," Harry added with a smirk, glancing over his shoulder.
Before Draco could retaliate, Aelita said to Harry, "I'll have to get back with you on that offer."
"Well don't wait too long," Harry warned, turning to leave. "Tryouts are a couple weeks from tomorrow, and yours truly will be deciding who is on the team. See ya!" He walked away, leaving Aelita and Draco by themselves.
"Can I ask you something?" Draco asked her, his face sincere.
"Sure," Aelita said, walking back to her bag.
"Did you throw your ball at that boy because he called you a Mudblood?" Draco asked, evidently concerned.
"No," Aelita replied, chuckling a little. "He had asked what I was going to do about how they were treating that little boy. I showed them."
"So, you weren't offended by it?"
"Why? Should I be?"
"Well, it means–"
"I'm well aware what the word means," Aelita said quickly, sitting down. "My question is: Why should I be offended over a name? I choose to not let it bother me. It is concerning that people think that it's okay to use that term."
"But what if someone you know used to think like that?" Draco asked, still standing and shuffling his feet nervously.
"Like who?"
"Like me?" Aelita looked up at Draco, but he wouldn't make eye contact with her.
"You do?" she asked.
"I used to," Draco quickly explained, stooping down to her level. "Not any more. I realize now how wrong I was. I never felt as strongly about it as other Death Eaters did."
"Wait!" Aelita stopped him, jumping up. "What do you mean by other Death Eaters?" She felt her heart sink as Draco grimaced. She began to back away from him.
"I was a Death Eater for the past two years," he said, looking down and away from her. She nearly cried.
"I-I don't know what to say to you right now."
"I'm not like that anymore, I promise!" Draco pleaded with her, looking at her in the eyes.
She didn't know what to think. How could this sweet guy do such horrible things? How could he expect her to ignore what he had done? How could she trust him after not telling her about this for two weeks? She took a deep breath. This is the exact same thing she didn't want Harry to do if he found out about her connections with her own father.
"It does disappoint me that you thought that way," Aelita said slowly. Draco winced. "But, I can't imagine you were happy."
"I wasn't," Draco said, standing up and grabbing her hands. "It wasn't until I met you that I knew what it was like to be happy." Aelita smiled and couldn't stop the blush. "I'm serious!"
"I know you are," she replied. "Let's talk about something different, okay? Like what in the world is Quidditch?"
Ginny walked aimlessly around the Kadic campus, kicking at the dust in frustration. She was doing relatively well in her classes, although Hermione would probably argue otherwise. So what if she couldn't recite the Pythagorwhatsitsname Theorem? It wasn't like she was going to use it as a professional Quidditch player anyway. That wasn't why she was frustrated. She was irritated about why she was unable to look around for information about Franz Hopper. The current science teacher was absolutely no help at all, but that wasn't his fault. She looked through the library for such information and couldn't find anything.
She looked up and saw Milly and Tamiya sitting together on the other side of the courtyard. She got an idea and headed towards them. What better way to get away with snooping around than by becoming part of the Kadic News crew? The only difficult part would be to convince the two girls to look for information on Franz Hopper.
"Hi there," Ginny said to them. They looked up at her and nearly fell over trying to get up.
"We've been meaning to do a story on you," Milly announced, nearly bouncing with joy. "Mainly on how you've been adjusting to Kadic and what your school in England is like."
"Would you be interested?" Tamiya asked expectedly.
Ginny groaned internally. She somewhat expected that this would happen. She didn't want to take part in the interview, but she also knew that the interview would be the only way to stay on their good side.
"I'd be happy to," she lied. "And then, I was hoping if you'd allow me to join the Kadic News crew. I think it'd be a great way for me to learn a lot about Kadic that most don't tell you."
"Great!" Milly said. "We could always use fresh ideas. Let's get started!"
After an hour that seemed to last forever, Ginny had done the interview and became part of the news crew. The two girls, after putting away their notes from the interview, asked her opinion of the school paper.
"It's pretty good," Ginny said, trying to find the right words without offending the girls. "It does a good job of keeping up with what students would be interested in. However, it lacks one thing: history. While it may seem boring, a look back into the history of Kadic Academy might be interesting to some students."
"That seems like a good idea," Tamiya agreed. "We could add a column titled 'On This Day' and provide notable historic events from previous years."
"I guess that could work," Milly said. "We could even do a profile on teachers that no longer work at Kadic." Convincing these girls would be even easier than Ginny thought. "Any ideas on which teacher we should feature first?"
"Well," Ginny said, pretending to think about the idea. "What if we focus on the science department? Since everyone pretty much knows all about Mrs. Hertz, why don't we start with whoever came before her? After that, we can feature a different department with the most recent teacher to leave Kadic."
"We'll probably have to clear it with Mr. Delmas," Tamiya added.
"You let me handle that. I have a way with words, you see," Ginny replied, unnoticeably fiddling with her wand through her hoodie.
Harry walked into the Gryffindor Common Room and sat down in one of the stuffed chairs. He thought about how Aelita went out of her way to help out that first year, who happened to be retelling the tale to his friends over at one of the tables. He smiled when he replayed Aelita's ball nailing that Dorin boy. Hermione looked up from her essay to stare at him for a second before continuing to write. Ron plopped down next to Hermione on the couch.
"What're you smiling at?" Ron asked. Hermione stopped writing but didn't look up.
"Ron," Harry said, still smiling, "Quidditch this year could be enjoyable."
"What makes you say that?" he asked.
"Just watch Aelita for Chaser tryouts," Harry explained. "She is going to amaze you."
"Do you always have to be concerned with Quidditch?" asked Hermione, putting her finished essay in her bag.
"'Mione," Ron said. "It's Quidditch. Of course he does. What would you rather us focus on?"
"Gee, I don't know," replied Hermione sarcastically. "Maybe Franz Hopper?"
"And I suppose you haven't found anything at all," Ron added, glancing at Harry with a slight grin on his face.
"Actually, I think I have," Hermione said. Ron feigned surprise while Harry had to cover his mouth to hide his smirk. She pulled out an old Daily Prophet that showed Harry's face underneath the title Undesirable Number One. "It's not much. But when I looked at the list for Undesirables, Undesirable Number Fifty is Franz Hopper."
"Really?" Harry asked. Hermione nodded. "That's intriguing. Voldemort must not have particularly cared for him. But if that's the case, why would a Death Eater be working for him?"
"I dunno," Hermione answered. "The list ended with his name so I can't imagine he was that much of a foe of Voldemort's. Maybe he just evaded Voldemort for enough time that he sent Snatchers to hunt Franz Hopper down. Perhaps Voldemort was interested in recruiting him. Some lesser-known Death Eaters' names, ones who didn't become Death Eaters until after this was printed like Kallic Fieramus, are on this list too. It could be a recruitment list as well."
"That makes sense," Harry added. "Most people had the choice of either joining Voldemort and the Death Eaters or being tortured and imprisoned. It doesn't surprise me that you're finding names of Death Eaters. Maybe Franz Hopper was a late recruit."
"Where was I on that list?" Ron asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.
Hermione chuckled and said, "Not at all. I'm not on the list either. Most of the names on here are people who were important parts of the Order or, as Harry pointed out, names of possible recruits to the Death Eaters."
"Or in Harry's case, people that didn't strike Voldemort's fancy," Ron stated. Harry scoffed and rolled his eyes. As Hermione stuffed the Daily Prophet back in her bag, Aelita walked through the portrait hole, one hand behind her bag.
"Ron, I'm told that you're a Keeper. Is that correct?" Aelita asked quickly. Harry saw the same mischievous look in her eyes that Fred and George once had when pulling pranks on Umbridge and took notice of the football slightly sticking out from behind her back.
"Yeah. Why?" Ron asked back unsuspectingly.
"Think fast!" Aelita shouted, throwing her football at him. Ron's eyes widened for a split second before he caught the ball in his chest. But the force knocked the air out of him.
"What…the bloody hell…was that for?!" he shouted, wheezing for breath.
"Just practicing my throw," she replied, showing a very innocent yet very impish smile. She plopped down in the chair next to Harry's. Ron coughed a little before regaining composure.
"If you throw like that at tryouts, I don't see how you wouldn't make the team," he complimented her. She looked at Harry, still smiling.
"Being able to do that on the ground is one thing," Harry explained. "Doing that on a broom is another."
"Only a minor detail," Aelita countered. She pulled out a piece of parchment. "So I think I've got my new classes for tomorrow."
"I'm going to stop you right there," Ron interrupted her. "Why are you picking new classes for tomorrow?"
"Because Professor McGonagall said I can move up to third year classes tomorrow," Aelita explained.
"So what are you taking?" Hermione asked.
"Arithmancy and Divination," Aelita answered with a smile. No one mirrored her smile but stared at her with concerned expressions. "Let's not get too enthusiastic now. What is it?"
"Divination?" Ron asked, making a face that looked like he just ate an earthworm-flavored Bertie Bott's Bean. "Really?"
"What's wrong with it?" Aelita asked.
"Well, the subject is…" Harry began, looking to the others for help.
"How might we say it insightfully?" Ron asked.
"It's lousy," Hermione stated blankly.
"That'll do it!" Ron declared. Aelita still looked confused.
"You seem like a logical-minded person, am I correct?" Hermione inquired. Aelita shrugged and nodded. "Well, Divination is a lot of guesswork on coincidences. It is all a bunch of rubbish."
"And on top of that, Professor Trelawney is a bit of nut job," Ron added.
"I thought the same as you at first," Aelita commented. "But now I think she tries too hard to be something she's afraid she's not."
"And what makes you say that?" Harry asked.
"I'll give her credit where credit is due," Aelita replied. "She does know her stuff. When she isn't lecturing about it and just doing it, she's an expert. I've seen many Muggle fortune tellers do what she does, and none could do what she could."
"Such as?" Hermione asked skeptically.
"Tell me that I'm a Seer," Aelita answered.
Harry didn't know what to say. He could tell that Ron and Hermione felt the same. Hermione visibly tried to say something twice, each time by opening her mouth but quickly closed it when no words came out. Ron clearly didn't know how to respond, looking at Harry every few seconds for a clue that Harry himself didn't have. Aelita seemed a slightly amused at their responses, or lack thereof.
"How did she tell you?" Hermione asked after a few minutes of stunned silence.
"She read my palm," Aelita answered. Ron and Harry looked at each other with wide eyes and said nothing.
"She isn't accurate when she does that," Hermione huffed.
"Then do you mind if I try? I was taught some of the ways of palm-reading back home," Aelita offered.
"Clear the table!" Ron said quickly and loudly before both he and Harry began removing any object within or close to Hermione's reach. Aelita gave them a funny look while Hermione just narrowed her eyes before extending her left hand to Aelita.
After staring at it for a minute, Aelita sat down and asked, "Two questions: Which is your dominant hand? And what was it that Professor Trelawney told you when she read your palm?"
"My right hand. Is that second part important?" Hermione asked, clearly trying to avoid the subject.
"Perhaps I could tell you," Ron offered.
"Yes, I'm sure Hermione would absolutely love hearing you say it," Harry commented.
"Well?" Aelita asked Hermione again, ignoring Harry and Ron.
Hermione then answered softly, "She said my heart was as shriveled as an old maid and my soul was as dry as the pages I so desperately cleave. Why? What did you see?" Harry could feel the suspense in the air.
"That you didn't have an imaginary friend as a child," Aelita said calmly.
Hermione's jaw dropped. "That's right. How did you –?"
"I saw the same things that Professor Trelawney saw," she replied. "For whatever reason, she felt that her explanation was the best way of putting it. Even when you were a child, you acted very grown-up and mature, especially in comparison to other girls your age. You focus a lot of your time and energy on facts when coming up with a solution to a problem. Professor Trelawney, I think, was trying to warn you on focusing too much on facts. Sometimes the answer can come to you when you get a little creative." Ron and Harry looked to Hermione.
"Now that is impressive," she said. "That describes who I am exactly. How could you have known that from just looking at my palm?"
"Your left palm," Aelita corrected. "The lines on the palm of your non-dominant hand define traits that you were born with. The lines on the palm of your dominant hand define traits that you develop over time. Most of the time, they just mirror or appear longer and more pronounced than the lines on your other hand."
"But how did you know that I didn't have an imaginary friend?"
"Logical deduction," Aelita answered with a smile.
"Okay, then," Hermione said with a sigh, raising her hands in defeat. "You win. So Professor Trelawney knows what she's talking about, just not the best way to say it. So you're a Seer?"
Aelita nodded, and seemed to think about what she said next, "It didn't really come as a surprise to me. I first noticed my ability when I started getting visions from time to time. Most the time these were memory flashes of what I had forgotten. But over time, they evolved into visions of the future. Professor Trelawney is trying to see right now if I can have just personalized instruction with her in order to teach me how to control my visions."
"Why would you get memory flashes?" Harry asked, very intrigued. "Weren't your current memories sufficient?"
Aelita shook her head and continued to explain as best she could, "No. I was involved in an accident about six years ago that caused me to lose all of my memories. Ever since, I would get memory flashes of my life before the accident."
"What kind of things would you see?" Ron inquired.
"Sometimes I'd see rather unimportant memories, like my mom making chocolate fudge," Aelita said, her shoulders slumping a little. "Other times, I'd see really important ones, like my sister being carried out of my mom's hospital room in my dad's arms."
"You forgot you had a sister?" Harry asked, surprised that anyone could forget that they had siblings.
"I told you: I got amnesia from that accident. I was fortunate enough to run into her before school had started this year. Otherwise, I don't have any idea when I would have remembered her."
"Well, then I guess Divination might help you out," Hermione concluded, apparently coming to the realization that Aelita wasn't going to change her mind about Divination.
"Great," Ron said, clapping his hands together. "Now, Hermione, how's my Potions essay coming along?"
"I already told you," Hermione answered matter-of-factly. "I only wrote your introduction. When you write the rest, I'll write the conclusion." Aelita stood up and began to walk away as Ron tried to negotiate more out of Hermione. Harry followed.
"You okay?" he asked. "You seemed a little down when you started talking about memories."
Aelita gave a small smile and shrugged. "It is emotional having to basically relive your life before an event just so that you can know who someone is and how he or she is related to you," she said. She appeared to be lost in thought for a moment before perking up and saying, "Anyway, would you be willing to help me practice a little bit before tryouts. I asked Draco but he admitted that he never really knew how to play the Chaser position well outside of the basic 'Just throw the Quaffle into one of the three hoops.'"
Chuckling, Harry said, "I can, but that doesn't mean I'll go easy on you when tryouts do come around. If anything, I'll be expecting more out of you."
Grinning, she said, "Well, I do love a challenge. See you on the pitch, Potter!" With that, she turned and walked into the girls' dormitory.
"Someone's trying to get rid of me!" Franz Hopper said urgently in his video diary on Jeremie's laptop.
"Jeremie, you've watched that at least a dozen times today," Taelia complained, perusing an old family photo album. "You're not going to find anything in there that you haven't already."
"Well, I have no idea what torches, crosses, a goblet with fire, and 1973 have in common then," Jeremie huffed, shutting his laptop. "Do you?"
"No need to have an attitude," Taelia warned, glancing at him from the couch. At that moment, Ulrich, Odd, Sissi, Yumi, and William rushed in.
"We've got a problem," Ulrich said, placing the Kadic News on the coffee table.
"Well, I had a slight itch in my throat this morning, but it's gone now. Thanks for asking," Taelia responded sarcastically, closing the album.
Ignoring her comment, Ulrich urged, "Just read that first page." Shrugging to Jeremie, Taelia picked up the magazine and began to read aloud.
"Exclusive: Exchange Student Makes Her Mark. Herb Pinchon loses front tooth in football 'accident.'"
"No, on the side," Odd corrected her, pointing out the intended block of text.
"Coming soon to the Kadic News: Since knowing the what's what from the past is just as important as knowing the what's what in the present, we will soon add a small history section. This section will include events of significance that occurred here at Kadic as well as profiles of notable teachers in the past. Since Mrs. Hertz is the most recent teacher to leave Kadic, the first teacher we will feature is the head of the science department before her: Mr. Franz Hopper."
"WHAT?!" Jeremie shouted in alarm. Taelia just stared at the magazine in utter shock, trying to wrap her mind around what she had just read. Where did this idea come from? And of all times, why now? But she saw her answer right in front of her: the small square of that blasted redhead smiling oh-so-innocently back up at her.
"'Meet the newest member of the Kadic News crew. Read the interview where she talks about life in Great Britain and how she came up with the idea for our upcoming history section,'" Taelia read aloud through gritted teeth.
"Do you think they'll end up coming here?" Sissi asked Jeremie.
"Meaning do you think they will learn where Franz Hopper used to live?" Jeremie clarified. Sissi nodded. "More than likely, yes."
"What do we do about it then?" William asked.
"Nothing," Taelia answered firmly. "Not until they give us a reason. If they see that this place is inhabited with my father nowhere around, they shouldn't snoop. In the meantime, this safe needs cracked." Groans could be heard around the room.
"And we're just as close to cracking it as when we first tried opening it," Odd complained.
"And X.A.N.A. will start pestering us again," Yumi added glumly, sitting down next to Taelia.
Two weeks ago, X.A.N.A. had launched an attack on Jeremie and Taelia's school: a flood that nearly drowned three hundred people. Jeremie launched the Return-to-the-Past in time and sent X.A.N.A. a message. The seven of them told him that they would continue searching for a way to open the safe while Aelita was away. Taelia insisted that they were capable enough to manage without her, considering the tower that she had deactivated. It seemed to appease X.A.N.A.
But it didn't last long. Every three days X.A.N.A. would launch another attack, targeting large groups of innocent people to convey his impatience. Unfortunately, only one of their counter measures was unsuccessful. A small explosion in the Institut de France claimed the lives of three scholars and injured twenty more. Police had told the press that an electrical surge caused a blown fuse to incidentally ignite a propane tank.
"I don't think he will," Taelia countered Yumi, standing up and allowing one of the others a chance to sit. "He doesn't know about those images sketched into the wall. Plus, we're his only chance of getting whatever is in there. I say that we refuse to help him should he attack any more innocent people." The others stared at her in stunned silence.
"We've never made demands like that against him before," Ulrich added.
"Not without offering up…ourselves," Jeremie half stated, half mumbled. They all looked at him and each other, sharing silent conversations and knowing what they must do.
Fifteen minutes later, Sissi, Ulrich, Yumi, Odd, William, and Taelia stood at the interface in the celestial dome in Sector 5, staring up at the interfaces in the dome twinkling like stars. Taelia looked at the others. They all nodded, and Taelia pressed a small icon on the interface in front of her.
Data streams shot out of the interface and connected to each of their temples, taking certain information from each of them and erasing the knowledge of ever having it. Jeremie monitored the erasing carefully from his computer chair in the lab. Only he and Aelita would have all the parts to the clues to the code on the safe. Odd would only remember the numbers 1 and 3. Taelia would remember the numbers 7 and 9. Ulrich had three torches, Yumi had three crosses, William had a calendar, and Sissi had a fire coming out of a goblet. But they all knew and understood that only together their pieces of the clues could possibly make sense. They hoped X.A.N.A. would understand, too. The data streams ended and returned to the interface. An instant later, three Manta flew up beside them, poised to shoot but refrained. They seemed to be waiting for something.
"X.A.N.A.'s probably wondering what we just did," Jeremie answered the unasked question.
"I'll handle this," Taelia growled. Jeremie was about to stop her but she began shouting to the Manta, "Listen closely because I'm only saying it once! We have discovered clues to the code on the safe. We have separated the clues to each one of us. None of us know what the other five clues are. And only together can they possibly crack open the safe. We will still look for additional clues to open that safe so don't think we're giving up. As long as you don't attack any more innocent people, we will give you one of the clues each month." The Mantas screamed in fury. "Tough! We are your only bet at getting whatever is in that safe. If it wasn't important to you, you wouldn't be coming to us to get it!" The Mantas looked at each other, and then flew away.
"Devirtualization," Jeremie announced, executing the proper programs before X.A.N.A. tried anything.
"Do you think he understands?" Ulrich asked as they left the factory.
"He better," Taelia replied, glancing at the setting sun as an owl flew north.