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Chapter 8: The First Prediction
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The next morning, when Adrienne awoke, it took her several minutes to remember where she was. She sat up, looking around expecting to see her familiar dormitory, but only saw maroon.
"What is this? Professors Glenn, Hartel, what kind of conspiracy are you trying to pull here?" she called, reaching out, realizing the maroon "walls" around her were drawn drapes. She pulled back the one on her left and found herself face to face with a curious Hermione.
Hermione raised her eyebrows and laughed.
Adrienne smiled. "Forgot where I was."
She let the drawings swing shut and leaned back onto her pillow. She rolled her eyes, beginning to laugh as she remembered the Welcoming Feast and her antics with the Sorting Hat. Several hours later it seemed to her to be quite funny, until she remembered why she had underwent such actions with the ornery hat. Adrienne pushed the hat's comments from her mind, telling herself if it was to be a good day she couldn't dwell on her questions.
"Adrienne, are you still up?" called Hermione, pulling back the curtain.
Adrienne sat up reluctantly. "I suppose it's time," she muttered, taking great care to climb out of bed without falling over. Adrienne stood up, brushed her bed-tossed hair from her eyes, and stretched.
"When do classes start, Prefect?" asked Adrienne, reaching for the cosmetic bag on the bedside table.
"Not for an hour and a half; you have plenty of time," answered Hermione, pulling on her robes, and glancing at Adrienne's cosmetic bag, added, "The bathroom's down the hall on the right. Just make sure you walk into the right one... it's quite an experience if you don't."
Adrienne laughed and headed towards the door calling behind, "Now that you mention it, I like to start my days off with a good laugh, do you think the guys would mind?"
Hermione stared at her for a second before she realized Adrienne was only joking.
"See ya, Hermi," laughed Adrienne, shutting the door behind her.
"Hermi?" asked Parvati, who had just dragged herself out of bed, "Hermi?"
"Don't you even start, Parvati," hissed Hermione, throwing a pillow at her roommate, whom had burst into hysterics
* * * * *
The Great Hall was packed when Adrienne walked in with Hermione, Ron, and Harry. All the students were quickly catching up on summer events, discussing this year's big Quidditch game: The International Federation of Wizards' Quidditch Championships. Colombia had taken the win with a spectacular effort from their seeker, Maricela Valencia, who to everyone's amazement had only been playing Quidditch for a whapping two months previous to the competition.
"That sounded like quite the game, huh?" sighed Ron, pouring himself orange juice. "Too bad we had to miss it. I would have liked to see Japan play: Japan's never been in the IFW before."
"Neither had Colombia," answered Hermione through a mouthful of scrambled eggs. Harry and Ron looked up from their plates, their jaws almost unhinged.
"Since when do you know anything about the World Cup or let alone Quidditch?" asked Harry, forgetting that he was pouring milk into his bowl, "Oh, sorry about that!"
Milk had spilt all over the table and was making a desperate attempt to spill over the table's edge into the nearest laps. Hermione whipped out her wand, and with a wave, it had disappeared.
"Got a little tired of not knowing what you all were on about all the time, so I bought a couple books in the Gallows," she said a little sheepishly.
"When? How come I didn't notice that?" asked Ron, disappointed he might have missed a Quidditch store when he had tried so hard to hit every one.
"Probably when you two were looking at all the different team robes. I didn't find them that exciting."
"I play Quidditch," said Adrienne, trying to break her way into the conversation. All heads turned to her.
"You do?"
"What position?"
"What broom model?" finished Ron.
"Chaser, and I have a Firebolt," replied Adrienne smugly. Of all the few things she owned, her Firebolt, now with her triangle necklace, was her most prized possession.
"You could afford a Firebolt?" asked Hermione. "Your parents must be so rich."
Adrienne blushed and quickly looked down. "I won it, last year at the International Underage Dueling Championship," replied Adrienne.
"You duel?" asked Harry, intrigued. Ever since the night in the graveyard, he had become particularly interested in this aspect of magic.
"Yep, you could say that," replied Adrienne, stealing a piece of bacon from Harry's plate.
"You duel?" came a snide voice from behind her.
Adrienne turned around in her chair and glared at Draco. "For your information, yes." "Right. You're not telling me you're good are you?" he asked, clearly still smarting from the broken nose she had given him the previous night. He had had it fixed by Madam Pomfrey, saying Crabbe had accidentally elbowed him, not willing to admit he had been kicked out of a train compartment by a girl, no matter how much trouble she would get into.
"I might be," was all Adrienne said, turning back to her plate, just to find that Harry had stolen back his piece of bacon.
"You wouldn't be able to hold your own against anyone, Miles."
"And you think you could?" she asked dangerously.
"I could against you," sneered Malfoy with a tone of superiority.
Adrienne smirked, an evil smile eventually engulfing her face. "Is that a challenge, Malfoy?"
"We'll see how good you really are when they do the tournaments. We'll see then, right Miles?"
Adrienne turned around smiling broadly. "Right Malfoy. During the tournament."
Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle slowly sauntered away. Adrienne watched them leave and then turned back to her companions.
"This will be priceless," she said, raising her eyes up enthusiastically to the sunny and cloudless ceiling.
"What will?" asked Ron, reaching for the timetable Hermione had handed him.
"The first dueling tournament," replied Adrienne.
"I don't get it."
Adrienne stared at Ron. "You don't think I won the premier racing broom in the world because I took last place do you?"
* * * * *
Their first class was Transfiguration, which just happened to the subject Adrienne hated the most. This wasn't helped by the fact that nearly all her attempts at Transfiguration ended up as severe failures, causing evacuation of Salem three times.
"Who's the professor, Hermi?" asked Adrienne as she followed Hermione through the crowded hallways.
"Professor McGonagall, why?" answered Hermione as she followed Ron through the classroom door.
"Oh, I don't quite think McGonagall thinks that highly of me, what with refusing to wear that hat and all."
"What exactly did it tell you, Adrienne?" asked Harry as he slid into a seat in the front of the classroom.
"Nothing important," she replied, extremely relived to see Professor McGonagall walk into the room, just as Hermione had opened her mouth, no doubt to press further into Adrienne's conversation with the Sorting Hat. McGonagall walked to the front of the room and pulled from her desk a small box.
"These are Muggle coins," she said, passing a coin out to each person. "As a beginning of the year review, you will all transfigure them into toads," she said, setting the box onto her desk and staring around at her pupils, answering their groans with a stern face that showed she was not in a very good mood.
"Once you finish, please bring your toad up to me and I'll exchange it for your first O.W.L. review packet."
This time everyone groaned excepted Adrienne, who had never heard of an O.W.L. before, and Hermione, who pulled out her wand excitedly.
Adrienne turned to her coin and pulled out her wand. Ron and Harry had already forgotten about the assignment and were grumbling about starting to review on the first day. Hermione, on the other hand, was already up at McGonagall's desk, a very firm grip on her toad. Adrienne, wondering how she could be so hungry right after eating breakfast, raised an eyebrow with her wand.
"Wow, that's some toad," said Ron, turning, his face contorting into a confused expression.
"Is that a toad?" asked Harry, eyeing the object in front of Adrienne skeptically.
Adrienne cocked her head and leaned forward. "Somehow I don't think so," she muttered.
"It looks like Jell-O," remarked Harry, getting out of his seat so he could get a closer look at the green blob, which had been the result of Adrienne trying to transfigure her coin.
"Gell-oh?" asked Ron, confused, following Harry to get a better look.
"It's a Muggle food."
Adrienne shook her head. "I wouldn't want to eat this." She poked it with her wand; it swayed once before knocking over sideways and splattering over the table.
Hermione walked over to investigate. "What did you do?" she asked suspiciously.
"She turned the toad to a Muggle food called gell-oh," replied Ron shaking his head.
"It never made it to a toad, just to this," said Adrienne, raising her wand again. "I'll just try transfiguring it back into a coin." Again, she raised her wand.
BANG! There were screams as green slime showered over the class.
"Oops," muttered Adrienne, wiping green slime from her face.
"What happened?" asked McGonagall, running over to the table, clearly not pleased.
"It didn't work, Professor," said Adrienne, staring around the room at the slime covered students.
"That, Miss Miles, is obvious. What did you do?"
Adrienne shrugged an unsure shoulder, "Tried to turn my coin into a toad?"
* * * * *
"My first day of lessons and I slime an entire class," muttered Adrienne as she walked out of Transfiguration.
"Do you regularly have such success at Transfiguration?" asked Hermione, inspecting her robes to make sure Professor McGonagall hadn't missed any slime when she had magicked it away.
"This was a good day. I'm much better at potions, though," muttered Adrienne.
"Speaking of Potions," interrupted Harry, looking at his schedule, "want to take a wild guess at what we have next?"
* * * * *
Upon arriving in the cold dungeon which served as the potions classroom, Adrienne was struck by how all the Gryffindors seemed to tense as they made their way to their seats. Adrienne walked to the very front desk and pulled out a chair, waiting for her friends to follow her; they didn't.
"Why do you want to sit that close to Snape, Adrienne?" asked Harry, pulling out a chair at the very furthest back table.
"Oh, I can take a hint: He's always as sunny as he was yesterday," she said, swinging her bag onto her shoulder and pushing her way towards the back of the class. She took the end seat in front of Harry and pulled out her potions text.
"Potions is my favorite subject you guys!" she said, flipping excitedly through the book.
"It won't be for long," whispered Harry. Professor Snape had entered the room, followed by the Slytherin fifth years. "He hates the Gryffindors, just watch."
Professor Snape stopped in the middle of the room and began calling roll. Just as he had stopped at Harry's name his first year, he paused at Adrienne's.
"And here she is, Miss America," he said coldly, glaring at her. "I thought I told you that you were to arrange a time for your exam last night."
"I forg ..."
"Don't interrupt me, Miss Miles. I don't know how they run things at Salem, but at Hogwarts you respect your professors, and that means following their directions," hissed Snape. "Well, Miss Miles, the entire point of that exam was to determine your knowledge of potions. I guess we could do that right now. How exactly, Miss Miles, do you complete an Omniscience Potion?"
Adrienne looked at him blankly. An Omniscience Potion? She looked down for a second, racking her brains for the ingredients.
"This is basic fourth year curriculum, surely you know it?" asked Snape, sneering.
Adrienne took a deep breath. "An Omniscience Potion. Um. Well. First, then, hmmm," she mumbled. Adrienne sat quietly, drawing a complete blank, fully aware of all the eyes on her.
"We're waiting Miss Miles, enlighten us!"
"I'll enlighten you," she mumbled, rolling eyes.
"Like I thought, your former professor didn't prepare you adequately. I don't understand how he was even allowed to graduate, let alone teach."
Adrienne's eyes narrowed, and as she stared at Snape, anger rising in her chest, something clicked in her mind.
"Hooplewart," she said clearly. Snape's smile quivered. "1.3 grams hooplewart mixed with a boiled ¾ cup of ganaver seed and ½ cup Essence of Lucretia mixture. Once thoroughly mixed, let cool, and then add finely ground scarab beetles. Boil until clear," she said loudly and clearly to make sure he caught every word.
"Lucky guess, Miles," Snape growled, turning on his heel and striding to the front of the dungeon. He walked around his desk and picked up a piece of Muggle chalk, writing in large letters across the blackboard:
ASSIGNMENT: COMPLETE QUARTER BATCH OF THE OMNISCIENCE POTION
"Begin now, and it would be to your benefit to successfully complete this, I'm counting it as an exam."
Harry groaned and leaned over to pull out his potions ingredients from his bag.
* * * * *
Professor Dumbledore's office was dark, no torches were lit and the drapes were drawn save for a few inches left open to let in a little sun. Dumbledore sat quietly at his desk, staring at the letter he had received from Fudge.
"The Golden Serpent?" he mused aloud, leaning back in his chair, "I don't understand, it is impossible." He stared off into space, his mind turning it over repeatedly. "But in the last 14 years the impossible has happened repeatedly," he reminded himself.
"If only I knew how this could be."
He stood up slowly and walked over to the locked cabinet that held his pensive, which he hadn't used since the day Harry had witnessed the Trials. Dumbledore unlocked the cabinet with his wand and withdrew the stone basin. At once silvery streaks lit up the darkened room. Dumbledore set it in the edge of his desk. He raised his arm, positioning the tip of his wand at his temple, withdrew a shiny, silvery strand, and dropped it into the pensive. At once, the shimmering fluid began spinning and swirling. Dumbledore took a deep breath before sticking his index finger into the tumultuous mixture.
* * * * *
He was now standing in the corner of the staff room, watching the staff meeting in progress. His past self was sitting at the head of a long table, talking animatedly to a younger McGonagall.
"I told you they'd end up marrying," shot Minerva, turning her attention to Flitwick.
"We all knew that, Min," he replied, shifting uncomfortably on the pile of books on which he was perched.
"And the wedding?" asked Sibyll Trelawney.
Minerva scowled. "But surely you know that already, Sibyll; oh, I forgot, you don't like to parade about professing you have the gift of the Inner Eye," shot Minerva coldly. She and Sibyll Trelawney had never gotten along, and the fact that they were stepsisters didn't help one bit.
"It's set for this July," interrupted Dumbledore.
"Just as I thought," resounded Sibyll, smiling dreamily.
"You didn't think that, Sibyll; just yesterday you were telling me that you were sure Lily and James would get married in March because what did you say - they are so opposite," snapped Minerva. "If you ever make a real prediction, Sibyll, I swear I'll drop over dead."
Sibyll at first looked as if she was going to tell Minerva that she could care less if she dropped over dead but then something very strange happened: Sibyll Trelawney had paled, her eyes rolled up into her head, and she began convulsing slightly. Suddenly she stopped and slumped in her chair.
"They cannot be separated, not even in death, for fate will draw them together. Both ancient and modern magic personified, one will begin the battle but only together can success be achieved. The one thought to be dead will be raised and marked by the symbol of strength. And only when the serpent is held ransom, will the test of wills truly begin."
Sibyll Trelawney stopped speaking abruptly, her eyes fluttered open, and she stared bemusedly around the table at her shocked colleagues.
Dumbledore quickly exited the memory. He once again stood silently in front of the desk in his darkened office.
"And only when the serpent is held ransom, will the test of wills truly begin," he whispered.