Author's Note: I know, I know... Trelawney is a little out of character, but it's the best I could do... I found her extremely difficult to write. The idea of Cumolo is derived from Newtonian Theory, and then twisted by my imagination... of course.
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Chapter 26: Cumolo
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Adrienne rolled over in her bed and raised her hand lazily to her eyes. As her eyes began to focus, she smiled slightly and sat up. Her bed was the closest to the window, from which, having slept with her hangings open, Adrienne could stare out of. Several feet away from her, the bright moon was shining through the black early morning sky. The white snow, now filled with the multitudes of student footprints was glistening in the moonlight. Adrienne's smile widened and she stood up, walked over to the window and slowly, trying to be as silent as possible, opened it.
"Wow," she muttered, reaching her bare arm out of it, "The snow will be melting soon this year."
This didn't bother Adrienne at all, as currently she wasn't quite fond of snow, let alone the cold. Adrienne turned around and made her way back to her bed, quickly changing into a pair of sweats and running shoes. Just as dawn began to break, Adrienne jumped from her window, Firebolt in hand, deciding it was time to start running again.
"The destiny of a wolf cub is to become a wolf, even if it is reared by the sons of men," Adrienne whispered as she rounded the Quidditch Stadium. No one answered except the quiet crunching of her shoes on the packed snow.
"Sure, now you leave me alone," she said menacingly, clenching her fists, mentally challenging someone to respond to her.
Adrienne picked up her pace, unconsciously slamming her feet into the ground harder than necessary. At first, Adrienne thought it had been her guilty conscious blaming her for that night at Salem, but now she knew she was wrong. The voice in her head was not a product of her imagination or her conscious, but what it was a product of, she had no idea. All she knew was that she was partially at fault for all those deaths, and whomever was living in her mind wasn't going to let her forget it.
* * * * *
"Any idea where Adrienne is?" Harry asked as he reached across the table for the jug of orange juice. Hermione looked up from her oatmeal.
"None whatsoever. She wasn't in the dormitory when I woke; I haven't seen her since last night," she replied, staring across the table to look at Harry and Ron.
"What do you mean she wasn't there. What did she do, vanish into thin air?" Ron asked in a confused tone.
"Well, that brings up an interesting idea, doesn't it? I heard that they learn to Apparate earlier at her old school; perhaps she Apparates out of here every night to work at a pub to earn some money. You know what I heard? She has to get handouts from those professors at that school," Parvati hissed, leaning towards Hermione, a smug smile on her face. Hermione raised an eyebrow and calmly lowered her fork to her plate.
"Really, Parvati," Hermione said in an even voice, turning to stare at Parvati with an expression that made Harry cover his mouth to hide his laughter.
"I swear, my mum and aunt were visiting the Gallows the day she bought her formal. They say that her teachers had to pay for it because she couldn't afford it," Parvati said in an important voice, momentarily letting her usual airy, superior demeanor drop.
"Is that so," said Hermione skeptically, carefully planning her words, "Have you two by any chance foreseen her working in a pub. I mean, do you know which pub, and exactly what she . . . um . . . does?" In a second, Parvati took the bait, Lavender too, leaning forward in her chair to join in on the conversation.
"Oh of course we have," Parvati proclaimed, tossing her dark hair behind her and letting her facial expression become a mix of impassivity and sincerity.
"We have been foreseeing this for some time now," Lavender interrupted, assuming the same demeanor as Parvati.
"We were just crystal gazing yesterday," Parvati said mysteriously.
"when the fates blessed upon us, true Seers . . ." interrupted Lavender.
"the sight of the future," continued Parvati.
"With such an opportunity . . ."
"what were we to do . . ."
"but accept our gift with humble graciousness . . ."
"and allow the fates to use us as the please, . . ."
"their humble servants," finished Lavender.
"Humble?" Ron whispered to Harry, who was still covering his mouth to hide his laughter.
"Until then we were not privy to such information as her occupation," Parvati whispered wide-eyed.
"We had only seen her Apparation . . ."
"Not revealed to us, her destination . . ."
"But there, in the orb . . ."
"Lay more knowledge to yet absorb . . ."
"The dreary mist of omnipotence gave way . . ."
"And in there, for our viewing, lay . . ."
"Is there a reason they're rhyming?" Ron asked, leaning over closer to Harry, who was now turning bright red with laughter.
"Just watch . . . they played right into . . . watch," he stuttered between stifled laughs. Hermione was looking fixedly at her two classmates with a closed expression, waiting for the right time.
"The truth about the girl named Miles."
"For each night at the stroke of new day . . ."
"The spell for apparation she does say . . ."
"From the hidden sanctity of her bed . . ."
"She leaves for a world that she should dread . . ."
"Brilliance!" interrupted Hermione. Parvati and Lavender leaned back, slightly aghast at the thought of anyone interrupting them.
"I beg your pardon?" Lavender asked.
"I just find it amazing; the coordination, the effort. Do tell me, do you practice this or can you two use your 'sight of the future' to access each other's minds? Come on, with such rhyming talent as you have, you could at least put some effort into your lies."
"I do not see your meaning," Parvati said hoarsely, her mind furiously working over what she could have said wrong.
"You know my meaning, you daft, bloody frogs," Hermione spat.
Lavender swallowed, but if she was uncomfortable, Harry couldn't tell.
"Lying? We are only speaking the truth of the Inner Eye," she responded.
"Well then, I say your Inner Eye needs checking."
Lavender raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips.
"And what do you know about the Inner Eye, you who was proclaimed to be hopelessly mundane?" she said snidely. Hermione raised an eyebrow.
"The Inner Eye? I know nothing about that, but I do know that you cannot Apparate or Disapparate within the Hogwarts' grounds. And that piece of information, my dear faithful seers, tears to shreds the foundation of your prediction. Ah, what a wonder, is it not? The knowledge you can get from reading? The strongest and most sure Inner Eye I'm aware of is the one focused and trained through the pursuit of knowledge, and that, I do know," Hermione said very calmly, her face void of expression. "Hopelessly mundane I may be, but upon the earth I plant my feet, not upon the ever changing illusion of clouds."
Parvati opened her mouth to say something but then closed it, either too confused at what Hermione had said, or too dumb to think of a reply, Harry couldn't determine which.
"You know nothing of true knowledge. This world is not run by text books, it is run by fate. Not one person can change their fate, their destiny," Lavender said solemnly.
"And who determines this fate?" Hermione asked slowly, her eyes piercing Lavender's like daggers.
"Fate is not determined, it has always been, and always it shall remain," Parvati whispered.
"So, the fate of Adrienne would be to spend her nights as a Scarlet girl?" Hermione snapped.
"We do not know her destiny, the orb was too clouded for us to read it," Parvati lied again, starting to wish that she had left well enough alone and had passed up the opportunity to try and discredit her classmate.
"So, the fates are undecided?" Hermione asked, a smug smile appearing on her face. Lavender glanced at Parvati and then stood up.
"We must leave," she said quickly, pulling her friends arm. Parvati stood up hurriedly and nodded her agreement.
"No one knows the story of tomorrow's dawn," Hermione called after them. Parvati turned.
"What makes you believe we see the dawn and not the dusk?" she called and then hurried from the room. Hermione turned back around. Harry and Ron stared at her with amused faces and then burst into laughter, lowering their heads to the table in hysterics.
"That, Hermione, was perfect! That'll teach them to make up stories!" Ron exclaimed, finally catching his breath enough to talk.
"They didn't know what to say, those dumb oafs," Harry said between gasps for air. Hermione didn't reply, but sat quietly in her seat. Finally she looked up, her face not filled with the smugness of success, but with a curious expression neither boy could read.
"Where is Adrienne?" she asked slowly.
"Don't know, but I'll check the pubs," Ron said and then burst again into laughter. * * * * * The dormitory was empty when Adrienne pushed the window open and flew in. She quickly dismounted and then shut the window tightly behind her. She looked around the room, brightened with the morning light.
"Am I that late?" she whispered, walking towards her bed. She tossed her broom onto the messy comforter and looked around the room again, careful to avoid the mirror.
"How long did I run?" she said aloud. No one answered. Adrienne shrugged her shoulders and walked towards the door with intents of taking a shower.
'So, Quidditch game today?'
Adrienne stopped in her tracks.
'Will you win?'
Adrienne balled her fists. "Leave me alone," she whispered to the empty room. A high echoing laugh vibrated though her mind.
'I asked you if you would win?'
Adrienne raised her hands to her head and unconsciously grabbed her hair.
'When I ask you a question, you will respond, girl!'
"You can't make me do anything," she whispered. The laughter grew louder.
'Is that so? Well, child, I made you lose your duel, didn't I? I can make you do anything. I could make you miss your Quidditch game too. Would you like me to show you?'
Adrienne let go of her hair and took a deep breath.
"Who are you?" she hissed, her eyes narrowed in fury.
'I'll make you a deal, child,' the voice said slowly,
"Who are you?" Adrienne said again, stumbling backwards, her head staring to throb with the voice's echoes.
'I alone write your destiny. I alone write your future. I can give you everything, and I can take it all away,' the voice whispered. Adrienne took a deep breath. 'You'll be an outcast if they know how many people died because of you.'
Adrienne took another step backwards.
'All I ask for is your cooperation. All I ask for is your help. With your help I can do anything. You will help me, won't you, Adrienne?'
"I'll help you slit your throat, does that count?" Adrienne hissed.
'Temper, temper, Adrienne, it won't be my throat that you slit.'
"If you don't leave me alone . . . I'll . . . I'll tell - "
'Who will you tell?' asked the voice as laughter echoed through her skull. 'You'll tell your brother? Do that. He won't believe you. Tell him, child. He could care less,' the voice hissed.
Adrienne sat down on Hermione's bed. "He cares about me, he saved my life," she whispered.
'Why did he save your life?'
"Because . . ." but Adrienne didn't know the answer.
'You dying would take attention from him, but saving you, that would give him even more fame.'
"That isn't true," Adrienne spat.
'But it is. Do you ever wonder why he made it into the Tri-wizard tournament?'
"Someone else put his name in, that's what he told the newspapers."
'He did it himself,' the voice lied. 'He couldn't stand someone else getting the fame, the glory. He doesn't care about you.'
"He does too!"
'Then where is he now? It's nine; your game starts at ten. Why isn't he worried about where you are? Where is he now, Adrienne?' Adrienne didn't reply. 'He isn't here, but I am. I always will be.'
Adrienne closed her eyes, her headache worse.
'Don't fight me, Adrienne. Follow my directions, and you'll live. I'll give you everything. Just listen to me.'
Adrienne shook her head and climbed onto Hermione's bed, shoving Crookshanks off the pillow, buried her head in it, and quickly drifted into sleep.
Back in his chamber, Voldemort lowered two wands and laughed, a high, shrill laugh that echoed through the stone room.
* * * * * "When's the game again?" Ron said, finally pushing his plate away from him and holding his stomach while mentally criticizing himself for eating so much.
"Ten," Harry replied, pushing back his sleeve to look at his watch, "Which means, I should probably go and get my broom."
"Right, and we'll go find good seats," Ron said, standing up after Harry.
"What about Adrienne?" Hermione asked as the three made their way through the emptying Great Hall; all the other students, it seemed, had the same idea as Ron and were making their way for the stadium too.
"What about her?" Ron asked, opening the door, "I bet she's all ready out there, the game does start in twenty minutes." Hermione made a face at this but didn't say anything and let Ron lead her towards the large oak entrance doors.
"Good luck, Harry!" Hermione and Ron called as the door shut behind them.
Harry raced up the marble staircase, his footsteps lost in the rumbling of the student voices.
"Samoa," Harry whispered upon reaching the Fat Lady, who swung open slowly, glaring at him, still miffed at his rude behavior the night of the last dueling tournament.
The common room was almost empty, several straggling first years were making their way down the spiral staircase, throwing thumbs up at Harry, who smiled back. Harry swung open his dormitory door, raced towards his broomcase, and pulled out his Firebolt. Harry cast a glance in his mirror before walking from the room, running his hand through his messy hair and wondering why Adrienne would have gone out to the field without him.
* * * * *
"Robes on, now!" Alicia called, walking around the Gryffindor locker room, her scarlet Quidditch robes billowing behind her in a fashion that reminded everyone of Professor Snape. The door burst open and light flooded the dim room. Harry shut the door behind him, placed his Firebolt on a nearby bench, and proceeded to walk to his locker, adorned with the golden letters spelling 'Potter,' mumbling that he was sorry about being late.
"Quit your whining, Potter, and get those robes on. We have to be out there any moment now," Alicia spat from across the room, her usual angelic face drawn up into a scowl.
"You wouldn't by any chance know where Adrienne is, would you?" she asked, striding across the room. Harry looked up, forgetting that he was putting his arm through his robe.
"No, she isn't here?" he asked slowly, dropping his arm.
"Would I ask you if she was?"
"Hermione said she wasn't in the dormitory this morning," he replied, reaching down to retrieve his robe.
"What are we supposed to do then? We're a chaser short!" Alicia exclaimed, advancing on Harry with her fists balled at her sides.
"Hold on there, Cap," Fred said, jumping up and grabbing her arm, "No need to beat our seeker."
"You want me to run up to her room and check again?" Katie asked, standing up and drawing her robes around her in preparation to run for the castle. Alicia turned and opened her mouth, but a knock on the door interrupted her.
"Gryffindor, time to take the field," called a voice from the other side. Alicia narrowed her eyes and reached for her broom.
"Well, there went that option," Katie murmured, dropping her robes and looking around for her broom. Alicia turned to look at Harry again.
"You get that snitch, Potter, and get it fast," she hissed and then pushed her way towards the door.
"You mean we're playing a chaser short?" Colin called after her.
"Gryffindor, you must take the field!" came the voice from the other side of the door. Alicia yanked it open with a furious pull and swung her foot through it, catching Madam Hooch in the shins.
"Then get out of the doorway," Alicia shot and then disappeared from sight.
* * * * *
Harry raised his arm to block the bright winter sun from his eyes and followed Alicia onto the snow-covered Quidditch field. The Ravenclaw team was all ready there, their seven members lined up before Harry, their blue robes rippling in the breeze.
"Would you look at this?" Lee Jordan called from his usual chair next to Professor McGonagall. "Gryffindor is playing a player short!" Murmurs arose through the stands and everyone leaned forward in their seats to see the six Gryffindor players, lined before the Ravenclaws.
Harry looked down the line of opponents, his eyes falling upon Cho, who was standing on the end, still the only girl on the team. She wore the captain's badge and had her shiny black hair pulled up into a tight bun on top her head, making her look like a miniature McGonagall, minus the spectacles. Harry stared at her for several seconds, wondering what was going through her mind. He hadn't spoken to her at all this year, nor had she made any attempt to speak to him. Harry had a funny feeling that deep down she blamed him for Cedric's death.
"Chang, Spinnet, shake hands," Madam Hooch said, walking between the lines of scarlet and blue robes. Cho took a step forward and clasped Alicia's hand, and then as she stepped back to her line, her dark eyes flashed toward Harry, only for a second - long enough for Harry to realize that she was looking at him, but not long enough for Harry to guess why.
"On my whistle, three, two, one . . ."
"And they're off! Bell is the first to the quaffle," the game had started. Harry rose into the air and scanned the field. Blue and scarlet images flew past him, but he didn't register the golden sparkle of the Snitch. Harry flattened himself against his broom and flew down towards the Ravenclaw goal post.
"And the score is 30 - 0 Ravenclaw," Lee called out. Boos rang through the crowd.
"Well, what do you expect? They're playing a chaser short," he clarified.
Harry flew around the goal posts and hovered atop them, looking for the snitch. Katie flew by him, intercepting a Ravenclaw throw and sped toward the Gryffindor goals. Harry flew after her.
"Get that Snitch now, Potter!" Alicia hollered as he passed her.
"70 - 20 and Ravenclaw is still in the lead. Well, now we know for sure that Chaser, Adrienne Miles, isn't just eye candy . . ."
"Mr. Jordan," Professor McGonagall said warningly, turning to look at him, narrowing her eyes behind her spectacles.
"She's the best damn scorer on the team this season. And look here folks, it's Spinnet, on a breakaway."
Harry turned in the air to see Alicia barreling past him, gripping the red quaffle tightly in her hand.
"She's gonna make it!" Lee called out. Moans erupted through the stands: A Ravenclaw beater had sent a bludger her way, knocking into her arm and causing her to drop the quaffle. Below her, a Ravenclaw chaser caught it and zoomed towards the goals.
Harry turned his attention back to finding the snitch. He flew higher above the game and squinted in the sunlight. Across the field from him he could see Cho flying, her head flipping back and forth, looking desperately for the snitch.
"The score is 110-50 Ravenclaw, those old birds are mopping the floor with the lions right now."
A flash of gold to Harry's right caught his attention and he flew into a dive. Across the field, Cho did too. The snitch was hovering fifty feet above the ground in midfield. Two bludgers whizzed past him, one grazing the top of his head, moving his hair, the other catching the back of his robe. This didn't faze Harry, and he flattened himself closer to his broom and then, to the tumultuous applause that filled the stadium, pulled up from his dive, his right hand gripping the desperately fluttering snitch. Harry stole a glance at Cho, who pulled up from her dive and stopped next to him.
"Congratulations Potter, you win again," she said in a hollow voice and then turned and flew away.
"That's the way, Harry!" Fred yelled as he rammed into Harry's side and put him in a headlock, rubbing his hair in happiness.
"Couldn't have done that any sooner, could you?" Alicia said as she flew towards them, massaging her right arm where the bludger had hit her.
"Don't complain, Cap, we won didn't we?" George said as he flew towards them.
"Yeah, a player short even!" Colin exclaimed. Alicia's face darkened at this.
"We didn't need her anyway," she finally said and then flew towards the ground.
* * * * *
Adrienne rolled over and slowly sat up, rubbing her eyes. An echoing of cheers were slowing pounding through the room. She shook her head. The dormitory was filled with the bright light of midday, causing her to squint slightly. Adrienne raised a hand to her head and slowly laid back down. She looked around her for a second, realizing she wasn't in her own bed, but she didn't care.
"Oy, Miss America!"
Adrienne's eyes fluttered back open. Someone was standing over her, but in the bright sunlight she couldn't see whom.
"What d'ya want," she mumbled, raising a hand to block the sunlight.
"Forget something?" The girl stepped back several steps and Adrienne made out Parvati's face, and then realized that next to her stood Lavender, both wearing evil grins.
"What are you talking about?" Adrienne said, swinging her legs off Hermione's bed.
"Oh, I don't know. . . broomsticks . . . flying balls . . . teams . . . points . . . Quidditch games," Lavender said slowly. Adrienne jumped up.
"The Game!" she exclaimed. Adrienne raced across the room and grabbed her Firebolt off her bed.
"Oh my goodness! I'm so late, oh my! Quick, what time is it?" she rambled, racing towards the door.
"What time is it?" Lavender repeated, grinning evilly.
"Funny you should ask," said Parvati, taking a step towards Adrienne.
"I think it's about time for the first student to be removed from the Gryffindor House team in over fifty years," Lavender sneered. Adrienne whipped around.
"For being late?" she spat. Parvati grinned.
"For missing the game," she whispered. Adrienne's jaw dropped and her eyes flickered from Parvati to Lavender and then back to Parvati.
"I didn't miss the game," Adrienne whispered in a deadly tone of voice.
"They played without you," Lavender said, walking back to her bed and sitting down atop it.
"I didn't miss the game," Adrienne repeated, her mind working furiously at what the voice had told her: 'I can make you do anything. I could make you miss your Quidditch game too. Would you like me to show you?'
"They played a Chaser short," Parvati said, putting a hand on her hip.
"I didn't miss the game," Adrienne exclaimed, tightening her grip on her broom.
"Why don't you just leave your broom here then and go on out and see what'll happen," Lavender said, reaching for a bottle of nail polish on her bedside cabinet.
"Go where?" Adrienne asked slowly as Parvati walked over to sit next to Lavender.
"Out to the common room, of course," she said coldly, a sneer turning up the corners of her red lips. Adrienne stared at them for several seconds and then, slowly, walked back to her bed and dropped her Firebolt atop it. Then, still clad in her sweats, turned on her heel and marched out of the room.
Adrienne strode through the hallway, her eyes following the rivets in the rich purple carpeting, watching the other girls' dormitories pass through the corner of her eyes.
"I didn't miss the game," she mumbled, shaking her head, "I didn't miss the game." However, deep down in her gut she knew she was dead wrong.
The rumbling of voices grew louder and as she rounded the bend that led to the balcony, the common room came into view. The students were grouped together, gesticulating wildly in excitement, raising bottles Adrienne had never seen before to six students grouped in the middle of the room. Among them, Adrienne could make out a mop of messy black hair, flanked by two red heads that were emptying their bottles atop Harry.
"I should really go look for Adrienne," Harry yelled, wiping the Butterbeer from his glasses and hoping desperately that Hermione and Ron would come rescue him, but they were so far at the edge of the crowd that they couldn't reach him.
"Nah, she's probably doing something, stay here and celebrate. Look at Alicia, that's her twelfth, Butterbeer. I bet you she's either gonna pass out cold or toss it all up."
Adrienne stopped at the top of the balcony, her eyes wide with astonishment.
"And like I told them all, we didn't need her, we could win a player short any day!" Alicia exclaimed from her perch atop a table in the middle of the room.
"How's your arm, Alicia?" someone called to her. Alicia shrugged.
"Fine, bludgers don't really hurt that much," she said with a slight slur.
"Hey, where is she?" another person called out.
"Who, Adrienne? Don't know and don't care, we won though," Alicia called back, reaching for another bottle of drink next to her, throwing her empty one into a pile behind her. Adrienne thought she was acting much like Professor Glenn when he had had too much to drink.
"See, this is what I think. This cup is ours already, because we are the best damned team in this whole school, and to hell with anyone who thinks otherwise," Alicia continued, giggling and raising the bottle to her mouth, tilting her head back with it. All of a sudden she stopped, her eyes resting upon Adrienne. Adrienne's eyes widened and she took a step backwards.
"So now ya show up, eh? Wanna join in'll party now, do ya?" she called through a thick drawl, her blue eyes flashing. The common room fell deadly silent and everyone turned to look at Adrienne, who didn't move.
"Well now, ya can't." Adrienne didn't say anything at all, but bit her lip and continued to look at Alicia. "Go on now, Yank, come back when ya can add to us something worthwhile. Can't duel, can't even show up properly to ya own Quidditch game," Alicia called to her. Adrienne let go of the balcony and turned on her heel and strode back to the dormitory, her stomps echoing along the hallway.
"This is all your fault," she hissed under her breath. "When I get a hold of you, voice, I'll strangle you; I'll kill you, I swear!"
'What did I say? I told you I could make you do anything, Perfect. You belong to me, and when the time is right, you'll join me, or die.'
"I most definitely will not!"
'You don't have a choice in the matter, child.'
Adrienne stomped on, her fists clenched, her jaw set, an immense feeling rising inside of her that made her want to haul out and hit something. With one mighty push she rammed into the dormitory and raised an eyebrow at Lavender and Parvati, who were staring intently at the door, giggling madly.
"Told you," Lavender said gleefully, a smug smile turning up the corner of her mouth.
"Would we ever lie to you, Miles?" Parvati drawled.
"Get out!" Adrienne hissed, taking a step towards them, fighting the mad desire to take all her anger out on them. Lavender smirked.
"Oh dear me, Parvati, she's ordering us out!" Lavender whined, raising a hand to her mouth in mock-terror.
"Whatever shall we do?" Parvati said slowly.
'Go on, child. You want to, don't you? Teach them a lesson.'
"Really, get out now," Adrienne said, narrowing her eyes and taking another step towards the two, "or I'll make you."
"Now listen here, wretch, you can't make us do anything," Lavender snapped.
"We belong here more than you. At least we're good at magic. Look at you, barely any better than a squib. All you can do is duel, everything else is a disaster . . ."
"Wait, Par," Lavender interrupted, "She can't even duel anymore, can she? So I suggest you, Yank, should be the one leaving. Go on, or we'll make you."
Adrienne scowled.
'Do it!'
"Oh really?" and with that Adrienne lunged forward, pulling back her right hand, straightening her fingers and tucking her thumb across the palm of her hand. She swung her arm out and caught Parvati under the neck. Parvati slumped to the ground instantly.
"HELP!" Lavender screamed and the reached blindly for her wand as Adrienne walked over Parvati.
"Are you going to leave now?" Adrienne asked slowly, treading on Parvati's wrist. Lavender looked at her with wide, fearful eyes.
"You're crazy!" she muttered and then, her hand grabbing her crystal ball on her bedside table, raised it into the air. Adrienne's arm shot out, grabbing Lavender by the wrist, putting her thumb atop the carpal tunnel, and twisted. She grabbed the crystal ball out of her hand and swung it at her face, hitting Lavender in the temple, causing her to slump to the ground.
'Well done, child.'
Adrienne's eyes widened in fear.
'How many things have I made you do now? The duel, the game, and now this. And you still think that you are in control?'
"It was an accident," Adrienne whispered, looking at the two girls lying on the dormitory floor.
'An accident? Adrienne, there are no accidents, but instead opportunities. Look at that. Didn't it feel good to get out some of your anger? Didn't it feel good to get them back for hating you? Doesn't the feel of fresh blood on your hands, the warmth, the smell, the feel, doesn't it feel good?'
Adrienne's eyes widened and she slowly looked down at her left hand.
"Merlin!" she screamed, stumbling backwards, wiping her bloody hand on her top.
'The time is coming,' and with that the voice fell silent. Adrienne's horrified eyes flipped over the scene before her: Parvati was lying on the ground, her head lulled to the side, Lavender next to her, blood running down the left side of her face.
"It came from that way!"
"Who screamed?"
The echo of footsteps filled Adrienne's ears and she turned just in time to see a group of students appear in the doorway.
* * * * *
Adrienne shifted nervously in her chair, her head bowed slightly and her hands clasped painfully together.
"Miss Potter, I'm extremely disappointed in you," Professor Dumbledore said slowly from behind his desk. Adrienne didn't look up but was all too aware of both his eyes and Professor McGonagall's on her. Adrienne inched to the left, trying to put some more distance between her and McGonagall, who was sitting on her right side and Adrienne didn't have to look at her to know that she was not wearing a pleased expression.
"You're lucky they weren't hurt any worse," McGonagall snapped, standing up suddenly.
"Two girls in the hospital wing? One with a fractured Atlas another with a fractured skull! You did that, Adrienne!" McGonagall exclaimed, putting her hands on her hips.
"What happened?" Dumbledore asked, shooting a warning glance at McGonagall. Adrienne slowly looked up and stared at Dumbledore. He was sitting across her, his hands folded atop his desk, a serious expression on his face.
"I asked them to leave," Adrienne said slowly, beginning to shake, "They wouldn't leave."
"So you hit them?" McGonagall asked, incredulously.
"I asked them to go, they wouldn't, I asked them," Adrienne said urgently, turning to stare at McGonagall.
"Why did you want them to leave, Adrienne?" Dumbledore asked, staring intently at her. Adrienne turned back to look at him.
"Because," she replied, not about to tell them she currently was harboring a maniac in her mind, whom she had a sneaking suspicion was Voldemort; how he could managed that, she didn't know though.
"Did it have anything to do with you not being at the Quidditch game?" McGonagall asked, sitting back down next to her. Adrienne looked away.
"I had a horrible headache and just laid down for a second, but I guess I forgot to wake up," she mumbled. Adrienne shut her eyes.
"Why didn't you go to the hospital wing then?" Dumbledore asked her.
"Madam Pomfrey couldn't help, trust me," Adrienne whispered, opening her eyes and fixating them on the old man sitting across from her.
"She could have tried," he replied. Adrienne shook her head.
"And you can try to raise the dead, but it won't work," she snapped. Dumbledore sighed and reached across his desk for a quill.
"Fighting is serious business, Adrienne," Dumbledore began. Adrienne sighed. "I don't condone what you did, nor do I understand why. But I was not in the room, nor were there any witnesses. Thus, Adrienne, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt, and not send you back to Salem; but if you do this again, you'll leave right away. Something happened between you, Parvati, and Lavender, and two of you ended up unconscious, and that cannot be ignored. Two-hundred points from Gryffindor . . ."
"Wonderful," she groaned. McGonagall cleared her throat and Adrienne, rolling her eyes, turned her attention back to Professor Dumbledore.
"Fighting is a childish act, Adrienne, and when you fail to act as an adult, you loose privileges," Dumbledore continued. Adrienne sat up slowly, her mind reeling at what Professor Dumbledore was getting at.
"If you cannot act as an adult, you cannot attend adult functions; therefore, this year you may not attend the Valentine's Formal, or any Hogsmeade trips." At this Adrienne jumped up, a horrified expression on her face.
"Whoa, Nellie! Hold on just one second there," she snapped, putting her hand on her hips and raising an eyebrow. "I'm going with Ron, you can't do that to him! He didn't do anything wrong, it was me. Why punish him?"
Dumbledore sighed and looked at her, his light blue eyes surveying her slowly.
"Adrienne, our actions affect others, not just ourselves, perhaps now you will remember that. Good day, Miss Potter," Professor Dumbledore said crisply. Adrienne's jaw dropped and she turned to look at Professor McGonagall, who was looking at her with a stern face.
"Don't look at me," she said and then stood up. Adrienne turned back to Professor Dumbledore.
"Is that all?" Adrienne asked with a sneer, not following McGonagall to the door.
"I am writing a letter to Salem," Dumbledore began.
"To who?" Adrienne interrupted.
"To their Headmistress."
"Not to Professor Bell! Write to Professors Glenn and Hartel, they take care of me," Adrienne begged, inwardly thinking that Professor Glenn would punish her a lot less than Professor Bell.
"I'm writing to the Headmistress, Adrienne," Dumbledore said firmly. Adrienne made a face.
"Now that's the dumbest thing I've ever heard," she snapped, knowing that if Professor Bell was the one to punish her, she'd be scrubbing floors all summer.
"You may go now, Miss Potter," Dumbledore said again and Adrienne thought he looked as if he were trying not to laugh.
"Bite me," she said, and then, wrinkling her face as if she had just met a skunk, stomped from the room.
* * * * *
"Adrienne, it's upside down," Hermione said, standing up and walking over to Adrienne's bed. Adrienne looked down at her shoe, blushed, and quickly turned it the right way to slip it on.
"Oops," Adrienne muttered. Hermione flopped down next to her.
"Is there a reason you're putting your shoes on now?" she asked, reaching up and twirling a strand of Adrienne's dark hair.
"Huh?" Adrienne turned and looked at her, a confused expression engulfing her face.
"It's Sunday night. Right now the only decent people in the common room are Harry, Ron, and that chess set. Do you really want to go down and watch Lavender and Parvati's seance?" Hermione asked, shaking her head slightly. Adrienne took a deep breath and then smiled.
"For some reason I thought it was Monday. See, I was all ready to go down and transfigure McGonagall into a toad and to accidentally spill my rotting solution on Snape," Adrienne said with a sorrowful expression. Hermione giggled and sat up.
"There she is," she said slowly, reaching for a hair tie on the bedside table.
"Who?" Adrienne said, turning around and staring dumbly around the dormitory.
"The silly girl who's been hiding somewhere in that mind of yours," Hermione said, a hairbrush and hair tie in hand.
"Turn around, Adrienne," she ordered. Adrienne slowly turned and pushed her hair off her shoulders.
"What happened with Professor Dumbledore?" Hermione asked, reaching up and beginning to brush Adrienne's hair.
"What are you doing to me?" Adrienne asked doubtfully, trying to change the subject.
"I'm going to braid your hair," Hermione replied. "So, what happened?" Adrienne bit her lip. She hadn't told Harry, Hermione, or Ron that she currently couldn't go to the dance. She had told them that she had lost points for getting in a cat-fight with Parvati and Lavender, to which Hermione replied, "Since when does cat-fights involve two hospitalizations?" She had told them that she had had a headache and thus missed the game. Then she spent all of Saturday night listening to Ron and Harry give her a play-by-play of the game, which Adrienne had a funny feeling were horrendously exaggerated.
"Um, he told me that he was disappointed in me and all that tosh and that I needed to act more grownup and he was gonna write to Salem about me," Adrienne replied, having decided not to tell them about not being able to go to the formal, telling herself that somehow she'd worm her way back onto Dumbledore's good side, "Ouch!"
"Sorry," Hermione mumbled.
"Now I'm gonna have me a bald spot there, Hermi. I'll be 'Adrienne, the giant bald spot girl,'" Adrienne mumbled, "Some hairdresser you are." Hermione yanked on her braid slightly.
"Ouch again!"
"Oops, sorry, Adrienne, thousand apologies, it was an accident," Hermione said smugly, tying the braid's end.
"Right, and I'm Samantha Mesich," Adrienne spat.
"Who's Samantha Mesich?"
"My imaginary friend from when I was five, I think. No, maybe I was six, or seven. Heck, I could have been twelve. Come to think of it, maybe Samantha Mesich was Jessica's imaginary friend," Adrienne said, wrinkling her face in thought, which looked like it was causing her great pain.
"Who's Jessica?" Hermione asked, bewildered. Adrienne turned, her face contorted in a skeptical expression.
"Jessica? She was at 5th Street with me. Or was it Jessica from Salem who had an imaginary friend?" Adrienne thought aloud.
"No wonder you can't transfigure worth anything, your thought process is off the wall!" Hermione exclaimed. Adrienne fell back onto the bed.
"Well, whatever may be, I can safely say that someone at one point had an imaginary friend. Whether that someone was Jessica and whether that imaginary friend was . . ."
"Shut up, Adrienne!"
Adrienne stopped talking and grinned.
"You know you love me, Hermi," she whined.
"Yeah, about as much as I love Snape," Hermione said slowly. Adrienne frowned.
"Thanks for the support there."
"Any time," Hermione said, standing up. She walked back to her bed.
"Sirius sent Harry a letter today, you saw it, right?" Hermione said, looking up from her trunk.
"Yup, he said that he wished he would have gotten to meet me but old Bumble 'n Snore . . ."
"Adrienne, be nice," Hermione chided without looking up.
"has him looking into that Golden Serpent business," Adrienne finished.
"How much do you know about that serpent, Adrienne?" Hermione asked, pulling out a notebook. Adrienne's eyes widened.
'And the truth surfaces.' The voice was back.
"Not much," she replied, clenching her fists. Hermione looked up.
"I'm going to the library, want to go with me?" she asked, grabbing her bag. Adrienne raised an eyebrow.
"No, that's all right, Hermi, I have some stuff to do," Adrienne replied, indicating blindly behind her. Hermione walked toward her.
"You've finished that Transfiguration paper, right?" she asked in a stern voice.
"Of course!" Adrienne said, "You go. Maybe I'll stop by later." Hermione looked at her with a curious expression but then shrugged.
"Fine, see you," and with that she walked out from the dormitory.
'That mudblood's pretty sharp, is she not?'
Adrienne turned around and stared out the window with angry eyes.
'She'll figure it out, you watch, child.'
"I've had it up to here with you," Adrienne snapped, raising her hand above her head, "And guess what, I'm not even that tall!"
'So, how is everything in the old lion house? How's everything with your brother?'
"Fine," Adrienne said slowly.
'That's good, child, that's good. Keep on good terms with him, that way he won't expect anything.'
* * * * *
"I really hate this class," Harry muttered as he and Ron trudged up the final set of stairs leading to the top of the North Tower.
"What are we starting again?" Ron asked, stopping abruptly in an all-too-familiar circular room.
"We're learning about the purpose of Divination, I think; but I really wasn't paying much attention when she announced it, so . . ." Harry mumbled. A silver ladder began to slowly descend from the top of the ceiling.
As Harry stuck his head through the trapdoor, the waft of incense caught him and he gagged, looking around, blurry eyed for a seat next to a window. There was none. From the corner, Professor Trelawney emerged, her gauzy white robes flowing behind her.
"Sit down, my children. Sit down," she said in her usual drafty whisper. Harry reluctantly lowered himself into a fluffy chair next to Ron. Several chairs down from them, Parvati and Lavender sat rapt with attention, wearing hypnotized faces. Professor Trelawney sat down in her usual green chair.
"The Art of Divination is possibly the oldest branch of magic ever in existence," she began, leaning back and raising a teacup to her mouth in a fashion that reminded Harry very much of Aunt Petunia.
"Unfortunately for us, very few predictions were ever recorded," she continued. Harry glanced at Ron who had already blocked Trelawney out and was seeing how far back he could bend his fingers.
"Divination is used rarely in everyday magical life, and true Seers are only consulted upon the most dire of circumstances."
"I wonder why," Ron muttered to Harry, who smirked in response.
"In the 1940s, much of the Muggle world was caught up in World War Two. Many children at Hogwarts who were of Muggle parentage lost loved ones during that time. However, the Muggles were not alone during the battle. While the Muggles were fighting a man named Hitler, we were trying our best to defend ourselves against the dark wizard, Grindelwald. You have all heard this before, I am correct?" The class, except for Lavender and Parvati, who were sitting reverently, nodded their heads dumbly.
"And we all know that our own Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, was the one who defeated Grindelwald?"
"Um huh." "Yup. "Correct." Bland answers rang through the room. Professor Trelawney leaned forward slightly.
"But do you know why he was the one?" she asked slowly, peering over her thick spectacles, her dull eyes landing upon Harry, who shifted uncomfortably and tried to look extremely interested.
"Everything in the world exists in a delicate balance. There cannot be more magic in the world than there is the mundanity of Muggle life. There cannot be more evil than there is good. There cannot be a darkness without a light; for, if we had no evil, no darkness, then how would we realize the good, the light?"
Harry leaned forward in his chair and stared at Professor Trelawney.
"When something evil or good enters the world, at some point the power must be balanced," she continued.
"But that means then that we'd never be able to rid the world of evil. Isn't that what the aurors are there for, to rid the world of the dark wizards?" Dean Thomas interrupted.
"It's a Catch 22," a new voice floated through the room and Hermione appeared in the trapdoor.
"Sorry to interrupt you, Professor, but I have a note from Professor Vector," Hermione said quickly, not at all attempting to hide her disgust at being back in the Divination classroom. Professor Trelawney stood up and sashayed over to Hermione, whisking the slip of parchment straight out of her hand. She read it quickly, holding it very close to her face. Then she nodded.
"Tell him I will speak to him personally during the hour of lunch," she said. Then, upon slipping the note down the front of her robe, she stared at Hermione, almost as seeing her in a new light.
"You are aware of the process of balance, Miss Granger, is it?" she asked slowly, lowering her spectacles down the bridge of her nose.
"Cumolo," Hermione answered, her eyes flickering to Harry who was staring at her intently.
"Correct, Miss Granger, take a seat, please; I'll speak to Professor Vector about your not returning to class today," she said airily, then she turned and moved back to her seat. Hermione raised an eyebrow but walked through the dark and cluttered room and took a seat at Harry's feet.
"Cumolo," Professor Trelawney began, "to bring to perfection. Magic, my dears, is in you. It flows through your veins; it is present in your speech; it is in your nerves, in all you do. Magic is part of you, it always has been, and for all of you, it always will. There are limits on our magic though; there are only certain things you can do, certain spells you can make, certain laws of nature you can break. Magic can kill, what is the curse?" The entire class raised their hands.
"Mr. Thomas?"
"Avada Kedavra," Dean answered, intrigued by this new conversation, along with everyone else in the class. They had never in a million years expected this type of lesson.
"Yes, five points to Gryffindor, Mr. Thomas. With the killing curse, you can kill whomever you want; there is no limit. But none of our spells can raise the dead; no spell can block that curse. It is balanced, you see."
"But how can it be balanced. Since when is being able to kill and not being able to prevent a death or raise the dead balanced?" Harry asked quickly. Professor Trelawney stared at him and then looked away.
"What balances it?" she asked slowly, looking around the room. Not one person raised his hand.
"Why is the Avada Kedavra curse balanced?" Still, not even Hermione raised her hand.
"What is possible with the Avada Kedavra curse?" Professor Trelawney asked, somewhat exasperatedly. Hermione shifted and leaned back against Harry's legs, then, reached down with her left hand and held on tightly to his ankle. Only then did she finally raise her right hand into the air.
"Miss Granger?" Professor Trelawney asked, smiling slightly, 'Perhaps she's not as mundane as I thought.'
"You don't have to die if you are cursed by Avada Kedavra," Hermione said in a timid voice.
"You don't?" Professor Trelawney prompted. Hermione shook her head slightly.
"No. If we are all wizards, then like you said, magic is part of us, but not just the magic we practice. There are spells that don't exist in the magic we learn. There are spells that change the very existence of time; there are spells that change the actions of fate, but they don't exist like our spells do today. It's called the art of Perfection or traditionally, Acabado, meaning perfect, unflawed. It doesn't refer to people but instead to their magical status. Thousands of years ago, before our form of magic even existed, the wizards were known as Perfects, or if you want to get technical, Acabadians - "
"Miss Granger, you're getting off the topic," interrupted Professor Trelawney.
"Oh, right," Hermione said, blushing slightly, "There was no limit to what they could do. They could control anything: the moon, the stars, the lives of others, people's deaths, they could even resurrect the dead."
"Cool!" Ron whispered.
"They didn't do all that though; it requires power, extreme power. Like Professor Trelawney said, everything is balanced. If you bring the dead to life, one life must be sacrificed. If you save another's life against certain death, then you must forfeit someone else's life," Hermione explained.
"I still don't get how the Avada Kedavra curse is balanced though," Neville said. Harry on the other hand was beginning to see exactly where Hermione was going. "We need our wands to do magic. Sure we can do some hexes and jinxes without them, but it's a rarity to do real magic without wands. But during times of extreme need, when we block out our world and are focusing our entire mind and heart on something, then things can happen, then we can draw from our Perfect ancestry. If someone is insulting your family, you could end up inflating them."
Ron tried to catch Harry's eye but he was staring transfixed at Hermione.
"If you fall from a window and are about to be flattened upon the ground, you might bounce."
Neville grinned at this and whispered to Dean:
"Did you hear that, I can do wandless magic!"
"If your child is about to be murdered, you could sacrifice your life, to save him," Hermione said hesitantly. "It is in all of us, but it only surfaces under certain circumstances. That is what balances our magical art: our Perfect ancestry, the fact that at one point, people did magic perfectly."
"Precisely. Ten points to Gryffindor," Professor Trelawney whispered.
"Wait, what do you mean they did it perfectly?" Lavender asked, drawing herself from her usual quiet and meditating demeanor and posture.
Hermione glanced at Professor Trelawney, who leaned back in her puffy chair and nodded her head for her to continue.
"I don't know much about them, but I do know that when our kind of wizards began referring to them as Perfects, they picked that word in reference to the idea that if you were willing to sacrifice different items to maintain balance, you could theoretically achieve anything you wanted. Thus there was no limit to what you could achieve, hence there was a perfection to the art. It couldn't be improved through research or anything like that," Hermione said, although Harry noticed she didn't look as sure as herself as usual.
"Miss Brown, very few people study the Acabadian Arts, and those who do are usually professors at institutions of higher learning or research centers. If you really want to know more about the Perfects, you could check the library, we have a few books on the subject. Now, back to Dean's question, if we can't get rid of evil, then why do we have aurors?" No one answered and Professor Trelawney sighed her disappointment.
"Because the ideas of evil, the beliefs, the emotional convictions that the dark wizards hold are alone powerful enough to balance the lighter arts. The dark arts are inherently more powerful. That is why it is so easy for a wizard to go from the light arts to the dark arts, but if one is to go from the dark to the light again, it is more difficult. If we let the dark arts practice, it puts the world out of balance. But, if we only let the beliefs exist, the concepts, hidden away in books in evil tombs and chambers, then everything is fine and Cumolo is met. That is why we have aurors, because we can never destroy the beliefs, but we can limit the expression of them.
"Why was Dumbledore the one to defeat Grindelwald? Well, we know that Dumbledore was the more powerful wizard of the two. How do we know that?"
"The light wizard must be more powerful than the dark if they are to win because the dark arts are more powerful in and of themselves," Hermione answered.
"Precisely. When a dark wizard that powerful is born into the world, one or a group of wizards of equal strength are born also. Dumbldedore was alone powerful enough to defeat Grindelwald. Just like the 16th century aurors, Rezmy Ikes and Celma Ceratano, were alone strong enough to defeat the dark wizard, Nycenx. Thus, when Cumolo does not exist, light magic is put into the world to balance it." Professor Trelawney was now staring at Harry intently.
"Voldemort was born into our world, and somewhere, someone or someones exist with the power to stop him. But that power only lies in the chosen people. That was the main purpose of divination, to predict who these people would be. There were prophecies about the three light founders of Hogwarts, who managed to keep the dark arts from being taught for almost a century. There were prophecies about Rezmy Ikes and Celma Ceratano. There were prophecies about Professor Dumbledore. That is what divination is most important for. Cumolo is always in a delicate balance; the quest for a perfect balance will never be met, but divination can predict the less sturdy times of our endeavor."
The class sat rapt with silence, not at all believing they had had such a lesson.
"That, my students, is why I studied Divination, in hopes of predicting the waning and waxing of Cumolo. That is what I hope some of you will be able to do, for if we do not know when a threat will be posed, then how will we be able to hold it back until the chosen light wizard arrives?"