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Chapter 15: And So it Begins
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Adrienne rolled over and squinted as a bright light blocked her vision. She reached out to pull shut her hangings but instead of grabbing the thick curtains, her hand met thin air. She blinked several times and slowly let her eyes adjust to the light. She was in a large room lined with beds made neatly with white linen.
"I must be in the infirmary," she muttered, sitting up. That wasn't a good idea, and she quickly fell back onto her pillow, dizzy. At that moment a middle-aged lady bustled into the room, carrying a large bottle.
"You're up I see," the lady said as she drew nearer to the bed. Adrienne looked around the room again.
"What's the matter, why am I here?" she asked slowly, finally realizing that she wasn't in her school robes but in some god-awful, paper-like, sea-green pajamas.
"You were ill last night after the dueling tournament. You collapsed about ten minutes afterwards, dearie," said the woman, pulling up a chair.
"Who are you?" Adrienne asked, a little rudely. The lady smiled.
"Madam Pomfrey, Miss Miles." Madam Pomfrey reached forward and began to take Adrienne's pulse. "When exactly did you begin feeling ill?" she asked as she reached up and felt Adrienne's forehead.
Adrienne shut her eyes and tried to envision the previous night. She couldn't remember that much, actually all she could remember was that Gryffindor won.
"I'm not sure," replied Adrienne, reaching up and pulling her hair off the back of her neck. Madam Pomfrey looked at her curiously.
"I heard you gave the school quite a show." Adrienne looked down "Well, you seem better than last night; do you still feel dizzy?"
"A little, when I sit up, but that's all," she replied.
Madam Pomfrey nodded and stood up. "I told Professor Dumbledore I'd inform him when you woke up; he wants to speak with you."
Madam Pomfrey gathered some potions bottles from the table next to Adrienne's bed and headed towards a door in the far corner.
Adrienne rolled over onto her side, her mind reeling. She didn't remember much about her duel at all. She didn't remember much about yesterday at all. She shut her eyes and concentrated really hard, but only earned herself a slight headache. Adrienne reopened her eyes and stared into the corner of the room, raising her right hand to block the sun's rays. The triangle on her palm caught her attention and she noticed something very strange: It was shining.
"Ah, Miss Miles," came a warm voice from behind her, accompanied by the sound of footsteps. Adrienne turned over and pulled her sheets up to her shoulders. Professor Dumbledore sat down in the chair next to her bed and smiled. Adrienne smiled back.
"That was quite the match, Miss Miles, you should be proud," he said, his eyes twinkling.
Adrienne's smile faded. "Thank you," she replied, not mentioning that she didn't remember any of it.
"Professor Hartel has instructed you very well, it is obvious," he continued, leaning back in his chair. "You don't mind if I ask a question though, do you?"
Adrienne shook her head. "Shoot, Professor."
Dumbledore smiled. "When exactly did Professor Hartel begin to teach you how to do magic without saying an incantation?"
Adrienne turned her head slowly so she could see Dumbledore clearly. She pursed her lips and thought for a moment before answering.
"Professor Hartel never taught me anything like that; I don't think that is even possible anymore Professor," replied Adrienne, looking Dumbledore straight in the eye.
Dumbledore stared back. "But you must have learned somewhere. You performed some sort of spell before you disarmed Montegue, and you didn't say an incantation, Adrienne," he replied, folding his hands in his lap.
"You must have just missed it, Professor, I'm sure I said an incantation," replied Adrienne.
"May I ask you another question?" asked Dumbledore, staring at her intently now. This made Adrienne feel a little uncomfortable but she nodded her consent. "When you duel, how do you decide what blocks, what curses, what charms to use? Do you try and think it out as you go along, rationalizing what would work best, or do you just do something, without really thinking about it."
"I do think about it, sir, but I do whatever my instincts tell me too," replied Adrienne, not quite understanding where he was going with this.
"So, are you aware of what you are really doing when you duel?" asked Dumbledore, raising his eyebrows slightly.
Adrienne paused to think. "I guess not, I just do it," she replied after a second.
"That's what I thought. Are you aware, Adrienne, that you performed a spell to block the Sinosidelia curse last night?" asked Dumbledore.
Adrienne laughed. "Right Professor, that's it. There's no spell to block that curse. I think you might be imagining things," replied Adrienne, chuckling.
Dumbledore smiled. "Well, that is a possibility, but both Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape noticed that also, and I don't think all three of us are imagining the same very interesting event."
"Professor, I have no idea where you are going with this, but do you actually think I managed to perform a spell that doesn't exist?" asked Adrienne, beginning to speak with her hands.
Dumbledore's eyes caught her palm, registering the shining triangle imprinted against the ivory skin; his eyes lit up in surprise. Adrienne quickly followed his gaze and shut her fist, breathing in quickly, waiting for the question to come; however, Dumbledore didn't ask anything about her marked hand.
"Are you sure you are remembering your duel correctly, Adrienne?" he asked, standing up.
Adrienne raised her eyebrows and nodded. "Positive."
"Well, I'll let you be then. I hope you feel better," and with that Professor Dumbledore strode towards the door and out of sight. Adrienne breathed a sigh of relief and reopened her fist to steal another look at her palm; she shook her head, amazed: something funny was going on.
* * * * *
Harry, Ron, and Hermione visited Adrienne later that day, and brought her up to date on the dueling tournament news. Adrienne would have preferred to have them stay all day, but Madam Pomfrey insisted they leave at lunch time, because she wanted to examine Adrienne one last time before she released her. Adrienne sighed as her friends walked towards the door, Hermione mumbling something about going to the library.
* * * * *
"Why do we have to go to the library, Hermione?" asked Ron in a whiny sort of voice that reminded Harry of Dudley. Hermione shot him a sharp look and silently made her way to the back of the library to the table they usually claimed as their own.
"You see," she replied, dropping off her bag and then heading towards a shelf, "I'm going to look up information on dreams."
"I really, really hate the library, Harry," muttered Ron, "And I'm not looking for any of these books; I don't see the point of this anyway, she just wants an excuse to read 2000 page books written in a forgotten language."
Harry smiled and turned to a long line of shelves and started walking down the row, tracing his finger along the titles: The Origins of Magic, the First Magician , The Rise of Modern Magic . Harry continued walking, letting the titles fly blankly past him. Finally, at the end of the row, something caught his interest: The Introduction of Wands: the End of the Perfect Age .
"The Introduction of Wands, what?" he mumbled, pulling the thick book off the shelf. Dust flew into the air as Harry slowly opened the musty pages.
"In 402 B.C., the last and final blow to the Perfect Art fell. . ."
"Boring," muttered Harry, flipping on later into the book. His eyes landed on a picture of a gold snake.
"The legend of the Golden Serpent," Harry murmured, "this could be interesting."
* * * * *
Albus Dumbledore slowly closed the door to his office. He made his way over to his desk and pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill; he needed to write to Sirius. Just as he dipped the tip of the quill into the ink well, someone knocked on his door.
"Albus, you wanted to see me," came Professor McGonagall's voice.
"Yes, Minerva, come in."
Minerva McGonagall opened the door and strode into the room. "What did you find out from Adrienne?" she asked promptly.
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow in amusement. "And a good evening to you too, Minerva," he chuckled. McGonagall smiled reluctantly and took a seat. "Enough to know that Adrienne Miles died fifteen years ago, and that Adrienne Potter is indeed walking the halls of this school," replied Albus, beginning to write his letter.
"How can you be positive?" she asked, reaching up and adjusting her glasses as an anxious reflex.
Dumbledore looked up slowly. "You remember that prophecy, don't you, Minerva?"
"'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,'" recited McGonagall, "How could I forget."
"'The one thought to be dead will be raised and marked by the symbol of strength.' You know what is on Adrienne's right palm: A triangle, Minerva," replied Dumbledore, "'Both ancient and modern magic personified' ... as we proved last night, Adrienne can do magic without a wand and without incantations, the mark of a Perfect -"
" - the Ancient wizards," finished McGonagall, "And Harry is almost unbeatable with his wand ... the personification of modern magic."
"Exactly, and the Golden Serpent has been stolen," added Dumbledore.
"But it's not being held ransom, no one has asked for anything in order for its return," mused McGonagall.
"As long as Voldemort has it and we don't, it is being held ransom."
"But the test of wills, I don't understand that part; what does that mean?" asked McGonagall quietly. Dumbledore looked down.
"I don't think we want to find out."
* * * * *
"Welcome, my Death Eaters," resounded the Dark Lord's cruel voice. Severus Snape tried desperately not to shudder.
"It is time. It is time," he murmured, the torchlight flickering off the dark slimy walls and his horrid face.
"The whole world will know, the whole world will cower before us, like they did before Potter interfered."
"My Lord, what do you plan on doing?" asked the hooded man standing next to Snape.
"Lucius, I plan on sending out an invitation," said Voldemort, breaking into an evil smile.
"An invitation, My Lord?" asked Lucius, in a tone of voice that Snape found quite brave. Voldemort's red eyes flickered with excitement.
"An invitation to the rise of the Dark Order, Lucius, and eventually, when the time is right, to a special little girl. A very special little girl, Lucius."
Snape swallowed hard; Adrienne had no idea what she was getting into.