Credits: None of the characters or concepts associated with J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter novels belong to me, everything else does.
* * *
"Hermione, do you have any idea what you just said?" Harry asked, reaching up and running a hand through his wind-mussed hair.
Hermione nodded and fell back onto his four-poster, holding the parchment above her. Ron miserably reached up and scratched his ear, quite bored.
"Of course I do, Harry, and do you think it makes any more sense to me?" Hermione asked, dropping the parchment to stare up at him and Ron. Hermione rolled her eyes in thought. "The way I see it, for some time you've been on about Professor Trelawney making a real prediction about Wormtail, am I right?" Harry reluctantly nodded. "So, as much as I hate to admit that perhaps there is some substance to the more zany predictions of hers, maybe this prediction is the one Professor Dumbledore told you about before."
"When before?" Ron interrupted, drawing his attention from his brainstorm on how to apologize to Adrienne.
"Back in our third year, when I told Professor Dumbledore about Trelawney's prediction, he said it made her second real prediction, remember?" Harry answered, blinking heavily, suddenly feeling very tired.
"Oh, back then," Ron muttered, turning his attention to what color roses he should buy her, and more importantly, where he would get the money.
"Ok," Harry sat down next to Hermione. "Let's say this prophecy is about Adrienne and I – "
"Wait a second!" Ron interrupted, striding forward. He grabbed the parchment from Hermione's hand, smiling victoriously. "Ah ha! Look at it! Would you take a look at that, eh?"
Hermione turned her head to stare up at him, her eyes narrowed. "Would you give that back to me I was looking at it," she ground out, irritated.
"Well, then you just weren't looking at it good enough, were you? Some detective you'd make," Ron replied smugly. "Look at the parchment! Tell me what you see!"
"We don't particularly have time to play games about a simple page from a book," Hermione snapped, sitting up and reaching for the parchment.
Ron held it above his head, smiling gleefully. "But that's it it's not from the book."
Hermione dropped her hand.
"Come off it, Ron. It is too from the book. You saw it fall out," Hermione reasoned.
Ron shook his head again and then turned to Harry, who looked pale. "What does this parchment look like to you? Does it look like a published material, Harry?"
Harry reached for the parchment and then raised it closer to his eyes, squinting slightly.
"It looks a little old not too old, but it's kind of yellowish," he replied, and then suddenly it clicked. "Where's that book, Hermione?"
Hermione looked from him to Ron and then pointed to Ron's trunk, where she had deposited the book upon entering the dormitory.
"But if it's old, it couldn't possibly have fallen from that book it's practically brand new, Madam Pince said she just got it in," Hermione mused as Harry walked over and heaved the book off the trunk.
"Right. It couldn't have come from the book. And look, this parchment doesn't have page numbers either, and the last time I looked at that monstrosity" Ron glared at the book Harry dropped onto the bed, "it had page numbers on the bottom."
"He's right, there are page numbers," Harry replied, staring at a random page.
Hermione turned and looked at it. "But then, it must have been placed in there, maybe as a page marker?" she wondered, taking the parchment back from Harry. She unfolded it and stared at it, her brown eyes squinting in the dim lighting.
"But no one's used it except you-"
"And Professor Wallace," Harry said suddenly, jerking his head up.
"What does Professor Wallace care about whether you and Adrienne are in a prophecy?" Ron asked.
"And if she knew of this, why not at least tell us, or at least you, Harry," Hermione whispered, shutting her eyes in confusion. "I think she knows something, something big."
"What, her?" Ron scoffed. "No way. She's completely daft."
"She was the last one to use the book," Hermione argued.
"Hold on."
Hermione and Ron turned to look at Harry, who was staring at the parchment still in Hermione's hand.
"If this thing is true then Adrienne is a Perfect," said Harry.
"That's what I'm afraid of," Hermione whispered.
* * *
A darkness like none other she had ever witnessed surrounded her, plunging through her, covering her, pulling at her. Adrienne couldn't see anything. She couldn't hear anything. All she could feel was the thick air against her skin, a slight wind rippling her robes. She reached her arms out blindly before her, feeling for something, anything. She took an awkward step forward, the sound of something crackling beneath her feet finally reaching her ears. She looked down, squinting in the absolute darkness, but she still couldn't make out anything.
"Child."
She turned to her left, holding her breath, trying to determine from which direction she was called.
"Child."
She heard it again, straight ahead of her. Adrienne paused, thinking what to do. The voice sounded oddly familiar, but she couldn't place the voice with a person. She took a deep breath and reached down for her wand, but found her pocket empty. She bit her lip in nervousness.
"Who's there?" she called out.
No one answered. Adrienne took a deep breath and started walking forward, suddenly aware of the clamminess of her robes, almost as if they were saturated in something. She didn't like the feeling. She continued walking forward, her mind trying to make sense of her sudden change in surroundings. She didn't know where she had been before and she didn't know where she was now. A slight tugging feeling began in her chest, and she stopped. She looked behind her, straight into the darkness, wondering if she should turn back.
"Anyone there?" she called, her voice echoing for several seconds afterwards.
"Child, it's almost time."
Adrienne turned back around, her eyes wide, and her heart rising in her throat.
"Who's there?" She took another step forward.
"It's almost time."
Adrienne took another deep breath and broke into a run, her hands out blindly in front of her, her eyes squinted, searching for light any light.
"Almost time, Adrienne, almost time."
Her foot slipped and she fell forward, her arms first hitting the ground and then the rest of her body. A searing pain soared through her as she lowered her head to the ground, a sudden nausea overtaking her.
"Adrienne?" Someone was touching her shoulder, rolling her over she could feel it.
"Adrienne?"
Adrienne snapped her eyes open and stared into the face above her. Professor Glenn was kneeling at her side, his face bent close to hers, a worried expression upon his face.
"Adrienne, are you all right?" he asked in a soft voice, reaching down and brushing her hair from her eyes.
Adrienne blinked several times, trying to remember what had happened. Oh yeah, I fell, she thought miserably. She took a deep breath, trying to force her headache to subside.
"Yeah, I'm fine," she mumbled, looking away, her face reddening in embarrassment at the entire cafeteria standing up to get a good look at her. "Are we just going to stand and gawk or help me up?"
Adrienne raised her hands in front of her and Professor Glenn stood up with a slight groan, and then reached down to pull her up.
Adrienne shook her head slightly once she had resumed standing and then looked around the room.
"All right, show's over," she said wearily, waving sarcastically at a nearby table. "We can all return to our dinner now." Professor Glenn was still standing next to her, his hands on her shoulders. She shrugged them off, irritated. "I'm fine, thanks."
"You most definitely are not!" Mia exclaimed as Adrienne tried to take a step forward and had to check her balance. "Straight to the nurse for you young lady," she exclaimed as she put an arm around Adrienne's waist and steered her toward the door. After sending a 'we-have-it-under-control' glance to Professor Bell, Joe followed after.
"Not the nurse, Professor Hartel! Please not the nurse! She hates me!" Adrienne mumbled half-heartedly once the doors had shut.
"You just say that because she thinks you're a liability," Joe replied, drawing his wand, a protectionistic gleam in his eye.
Adrienne tried to glare at him, but that hurt her head.
"Don't you dare think about conjuring up a stretcher," she hissed.
"And why not? Look at you, you can barely walk!" Joe replied.
Adrienne shut her eyes.
"Please don't! I don't need to go to the nurse, I don't need you to conjure a stretcher, I don't need your help!" she moaned, trying to push away Mia, who just tightened her grip around her in response.
"The hell you don't! Look at you, you can barely walk," Mia snapped, pulling Adrienne into a long corridor.
Adrienne turned her head quickly from side to side.
"Wait this isn't the way to the nurse's," she said softly.
Mia laughed. "Like I'd go visit that old broad unless it was a life-or-death emergency, and even then, I'd take my chances and hope that death doesn't win," she said in a dark tone.
Adrienne turned to look at Joe, who didn't seem thrilled at her not seeing the nurse, but he didn't say anything. Adrienne, following Joe's silent approach, just let them lead her down the corridor, wondering where they were going if they weren't going to the nurses'. It took Adrienne a couple seconds longer than usual to finally realize what corridor they were in. It was the sight of a large mirror at the end that finally let her breathe a sigh of relief. The mirror had a carved silver frame that looked as if it had just been shined. Adrienne had always liked this mirror, not just because it was pretty, but it reminded her of Through the Looking Glass. Joe raised his wand and touched the very center of the mirror with the tip. The mirror began to ripple, first, small ripples originating in the center, and then, increasing in diameter as they moved to the very end of the frame.
Joe took a step towards it, pocketing his wand, and the next second he was gone. Adrienne followed, Mia pushing her from behind. The soft feel of the illusion washed over her and suddenly Adrienne was in another room.
Mia and Joe's living quarter was possibly Adrienne's favorite place to visit in the castle, not because it was exciting or mysterious, but because it was a comfortable and homey place to be. It was only two rooms and a bathroom, and Mia always complained that it was a little cramped. Adrienne, though, thought it was perfect.
The mirror entrance led into the sitting room, which wasn't ornately decorated. A cream sofa and armchair sat in the middle, a small coffee table separating them. There were several piles of ungraded papers sitting atop it. The walls were covered with various shelves and bookcases, displaying Joe's impressive library and Mia's various dueling medals and trophies. Upon one wall, above a beautiful stone fireplace, were several framed newspaper articles discussing Mia's dueling titles. Among these clippings was also the clipping announcing Adrienne's win at the International Underage Dueling Championship the previous summer. Opposite the mirror entrance was the door that led into their bedroom.
Adrienne didn't look around as they entered, nor did she say anything as Mia led her to the sofa and instructed her to sit down. All Adrienne was thinking about now was the implications of Hermione, Ron, and Harry coming to Salem. That just wouldn't do, she thought. It was a bad idea all together and extremely unsafe. If Voldemort found out
"Ok Adrienne," Mia started as she and Joe sat down on either side of her.
Adrienne leaned back into the sofa and titled her neck to stare up at the ceiling, her head still throbbing.
"What is going on?" Mia whispered, sitting so she could look at Adrienne.
"Yes, Adri, something's bothering you," Joe said in a soft voice. "Tell us about it."
Adrienne blinked several times, trying to keep herself from crying.
"I can't tell you," she finally replied in an unsteady voice, not looking at either one of them.
Mia sighed and stared at Joe with heavy eyes.
"Adrienne, you know you can tell us anything, right?" Mia asked in a soothing voice.
Adrienne shook her head, not knowing what to say. If she could just tell them something, anything, then they could at least know what was going on, even if they couldn't help her.
"Does it have something to do with Harry?" Joe suggested. "Did you two get in a fight?"
Adrienne bit her lip.
"We may have," she replied, still staring up at the ceiling.
"But people always fight, it's part of our nature. Just look at me and Joe," Mia said, reaching over and putting a hand on Adrienne's shoulder.
"Joe and I," Joe corrected without turning his gaze from Adrienne.
Mia glared at him but didn't reply.
"Ok, so you had a fight. What happened?" she prompted.
"We stopped talking."
"A little more information might be helpful," Mia said, slightly flustered, "like perhaps what this fight was over."
Adrienne didn't answer right away. She was half-expecting Voldemort to jump in anytime now, but he must have been satisfied that his curse would keep her from saying anything incriminating. Adrienne opened her mouth to say 'because I told him I'm a Perfect,' but that wasn't what came out.
"Things?" Joe exclaimed, losing his patience. "You're no longer talking to your brother because you fought about things? Adrienne, tell us the truth!"
Adrienne raised a hand to her head and rubbed her eyes in frustration.
"I can't!" she growled.
"Damn it, Adrienne! I'm tired of this!" Joe shouted, jumping up and striding across the room.
"Joe!" Mia warned, glaring at him. "You're not helping anything."
"And neither are you!" Joe shot back, crossing his arms and staring into the dying embers of the fireplace. "Doesn't this bother you, Mia, her sudden fascination with withholding information from us?" he spat.
Mia pouted slightly. "Of course it does, but we're not going to help her by yelling," she said softly.
"How can we help her if she won't let us!" he snapped.
"I'm still in the room," Adrienne miserably interrupted, her head beginning to pound more with his yelling.
"We know, hon," Mia said, turning back to her. "How's your head?"
Adrienne rolled her eyes.
"It hurts," she said darkly, "how do you think it feels?"
"You know what, I don't care what Dumbledore says!" Joe exclaimed apropos of nothing, flinging himself around to stare wide-eyed at Mia, who just groaned and collapsed onto the sofa, her head falling back to join Adrienne in staring at the ceiling.
"Joe, we've discussed this," Mia started.
"And we shouldn't have listened to that old codger," Joe exclaimed.
"I call him Bumble-and-Snore," Adrienne muttered, feeling suddenly ornery.
"Do not insult him!" Joe exclaimed, his face reddening. "He's your elder and you're to respect him. Have we taught you nothing about respect?"
Adrienne looked away from the ceiling and stared at him, her vision still slightly blurry. "Well, if you mean by teaching through example, I may remind you that you just called him an old codger," she said icily.
Mia tried to suppress a laugh.
"That's beside the point!" Joe said waving Adrienne's statement aside. "Mia, we can't expect her to come clean with us if we don't come clean with her."
Mia stopped laughing and sat up bolt, shaking her head, her eyes wide.
"This is not the time, nor the place for this conversation, Joe," she hissed, her eyes flickering to Adrienne, who was now staring at Joe with interest.
Joe didn't seem to hear Mia because he strode forward and kicked the coffee table to the side, sending the various papers flying everywhere as it scraped across the floor.
"Joe, don't!" Mia shouted, jumping up as Joe reached down, grabbed Adrienne's left arm and yanked her to a standing position.
"That hurt!" Adrienne whined as she tried to pull her arm form his grasp, but Joe held fast.
"Joe, this isn't a good idea," Mia whispered.
Joe stared at his wife for a second, his eyes narrowed in insubordination, warning her to keep her mouth shut. Mia slapped her forehead in anger and collapsed back onto the sofa, raising her other hand to her face.
"Professor Glenn, you're hurting me," Adrienne said in a timid voice.
Joe let go of her arm and reached for her right wrist, pulling it toward him.
"You see this, Adrienne?" he asked as he turned her hand palm up, holding her fingers open with his other hand. Adrienne stared at the triangle shining dully in the flickering firelight.
"I see it," she muttered, turning to look at him.
Mia peaked through a crack between her fingers and watched in apprehension. Joe dropped Adrienne's hand.
"Give me your wand," he ordered.
"Why?" groaned Adrienne, feeling slightly dizzy. All she wanted was to lie down and sleep her headache away.
"This won't be a negotiation," he replied in a dark tone, his eyes narrowing in frustration.
Adrienne rolled her eyes and reached into her pocket. Her fingertips closed upon the long piece of wood and she pulled it out.
"What's so important about my wand?" she asked wearily, taking a small step away from him.
"Can I see it?" he asked without answering her question.
Adrienne held her wand out to him.
"Just don't break it, all right? I don't want to have to go buy a third wand," she muttered, watching him curiously as he raised it before him, scrutinizing it.
"You sure this is what you want to do?" Mia asked, finally lowering her hands.
"Let me see your hand," Joe said to Adrienne.
Adrienne raised her left hand, even though she knew that wasn't what he meant. Joe glared at her.
"Your other hand, Adrienne."
"Picky, picky," she mumbled as she raised her right hand before him, the palm facing up.
Her eyes lingered on the triangle for a second before she turned them back to Joe. In the firelight his face looked much older than his twenty-eight years. Behind his frown and furrowed brow, Adrienne could tell he was quickly losing his nerve.
"Joe, luv, Dumbledore knows what he's doing, trust him," Mia begged.
Joe shook his head.
"Adrienne, hold your wand, like you're going to cast a spell," he ordered in a hoarse voice.
"This is your big anti-Dumbledore campaign?" she asked in disbelief, but she obediently grabbed her wand, holding it with her fingertips.
"Look at this, you're the only one I've ever seen hold their wand at the very end like that. You didn't do that before you left for Hogwarts" he said, reaching forward and pushing the wand further into her hand, so its end touched the middle of her palm.
Suddenly, just as when she had first held her wand when Mr. Ollivander gave it to her, it started to glow. Adrienne looked up at Joe, waiting for his order for her to stop whatever she was doing, but it never came. The light grew brighter, and Mia slowly stood up from her seat, raised a hand to shield her eyes, and blindly walked forward until she was standing next to Adrienne. Adrienne's hand started to burn slightly and she bit her lip in pain, shutting her eyes to try to block out the blinding white light. And then, the light disappeared and the burning stopped. Adrienne opened her eyes in surprise, having to blink rapidly to again adjust to the dim lighting.
"Oh dear," Mia murmured, raising a hand to her mouth.
Adrienne looked down at her hand and dropped her jaw in surprise: Her wand was no longer there; she was holding onto thin air. Adrienne slowly opened her hand and raised it to her face, realizing that there was a fine layer of ash on some of her fingers.
"Where's my wand?" she asked angrily, forgetting all about her headache.
"This would have happened before if you hadn't changed your grip to that crazy, weak grip you've been using," Mia whispered.
"What would have happened? What do you mean, my wand was just supposed to go and disintegrate – " but Adrienne suddenly stopped, remembering what Hermione had told her: Perfects couldn't use wands.
Adrienne swallowed nervously and stared up at Joe, who looked slightly shocked. They stood in silence for a few minutes, the only sound filling their ears was the crackling of the fire. And then, right as Adrienne was going to ask where Joe was going with this wand thing, he finally spoke.
"The art of Perfection, Adrienne it doesn't require the use of a wand," he whispered.
* * *
"Do you think she'll be in her office?" Hermione asked as she, Harry, and Ron half walked, half ran, through the castle.
"Where else would she be?" Ron asked irritably.
This wasn't exactly how he wanted to spend his Saturday night tracking down crazy professors.
"Well, there's the staff room, her private quarters, another professor's office, the Great Hall, the bathroom," began Hermione as they ascended the north-wing staircase.
"We get the picture," Ron interrupted.
"Do you have a plan, Hermione?" Harry asked, turning to look at her.
"No," she replied, looking away.
"All right, I got it. We break in, grab her, and threaten her with the Cruciatus Curse if she doesn't talk," Ron suggested, a strange manic glint in his eyes.
Harry took a step away from him, a surprised expression on his face.
"Yeah, and end up in Azkaban for the rest of our lives that'll really do a lot of good," he replied sardonically.
Harry had been in the defense office every year since his second year. The styles of each professor had been drastically different, and now he wondered exactly what kind of decorator Professor Wallace was. The door to her office was shut, a dark blind pulled over the door's window.
"Maybe she's asleep?" Ron suggested, bending down and trying to see through the crack between the drape and the sill of the window.
"Or maybe she just likes her privacy," Hermione said as she reached up and knocked.
"Do I have visitors? My, my, how fun!" came Professor Wallace's familiar voice.
The door swung open to reveal the tall Defense mistress, wearing a bright yellow traveling cloak.
"Do come in," she said, smiling cheerfully as she stepped back from the door to allow their entrance.
Harry raised his eyebrows at Hermione as he motioned for her to go before him. Hermione smiled at Wallace and walked into the office.
"Colorful," Ron drawled.
The four walls of the room were each painted a different color: bright purple, magenta, jade, and an aqua blue. Harry slowly raised his head up the far wall until he was looking at the ceiling, which was painted black.
"Make yourselves comfortable!" Wallace exclaimed, waving her hand before her, her inch-long silver nails glinting in the torchlight, which, surprising enough, had been charmed to glow a light blue color, making Harry feel like he was underwater.
Harry turned his attention from the walls and looked around the room, looking for a place to sit.
"Um, yes, where exactly should we sit?" he asked, turning to look at Professor Wallace, who had situated herself atop her desk, which looked suspiciously like a door, painted red, propped atop two bright green barrels with a hazardous waste sign painted on each.
"Oh, I've forgotten chairs have I? You're my first visitors to my office this entire year never had the use until now," she said nonchalantly, picking her wand up from her desk and flicking it at the middle of the room. Three beanbag chairs appeared from thin air and flopped down upon the ground with an 'umpf.'
Harry took a deep breath and watched with interest as Ron hung his head low to the ground to get a better look at them. And then, deciding to take the plunge, Ron turned around and fell into one, smiling.
"What are these?" he asked, an excited smile engulfing his face.
"Beanbag chairs," Hermione said flatly, turning to look at Professor Wallace, who had turned her attention to filing her nails. "Yes, I think I'll stand," Hermione said in a shocked voice.
"Me too," agreed Harry.
"To each their own," Wallace shrugged, looking up at them, smiling serenely. "And to what do I owe this pleasure?"
Wallace jumped off her desk and straightened her traveling cloak. Hermione pursed her lips to keep from laughing upon realizing what Wallace was wearing. She was wearing a long, red sarong, which was placed low on her hips, exposing a belly ring. She had on a tight green beaded shirt. And over this was her yellow traveling cloak.
"So, you like Muggle clothing?" Hermione couldn't restrain herself from asking.
Wallace looked up at her. "Gotta I'm a Muggle-born," she answered.
"We had a question for you," Harry interrupted, finally regaining his composure but still battling the mad urge to burst into laughter.
"Shoot," Wallace said, putting her file down and looking at them with an attentive face.
"That book you borrowed, I was looking through it earlier today," Hermione began, reaching into her robe. She pulled out the folded parchment. "This fell out of it."
She held it out to Professor Wallace, who took curiously and began to unfold it.
"Where do you get these chairs?" Ron asked, throwing his feet out before him and lounging with a relaxed expression.
Harry looked back at him and smirked.
"A Muggle store," he instructed.
"They're dangerous for young children; a suffocation possibility," chastised Hermione.
Ron rolled his eyes.
"Don't think we have to worry about young children at my house wait, do you know something I don't know?" his eyes were wide and he had paled substantially.
Hermione turned back to look at him, trying not to laugh. "No, sorry to disappoint you, Ron."
Ron breathed a sigh of relief.
"That goodness! Seven are enough," he exhaled.
Hermione and Harry turned back around to look at Professor Wallace, who hadn't even looked at the parchment yet and was instead staring at Ron with an entertained face. Hermione cleared her throat.
"Oh, yes, sorry about that I have the worst attention span!" she exclaimed, looking back down at the parchment.
Her face suddenly dropped its happy-go-lucky expression. Wallace looked up, her face now impassive.
"Where did you get this?" she asked shortly.
"It was in the book," Harry replied. "Hermione said you were the last one to use it."
Professor Wallace stood up abruptly and refolded it.
"Well, it isn't mine. I have no idea what it means," she said, her voice clipped and strained.
Hermione and Harry glanced at each other and then turned to watch her stride across her office to an open window.
"Well, it must have been you. You were the last one to look at it," Hermione argued.
Professor Wallace whipped around, her purple eyes wide. She raised the parchment before her.
"This?" she whispered softly, her lip muscles twitching, as if she were battling with what to say, "was not meant for your eyes."
"Then it is true?" Harry exclaimed, striding forward, his green eyes flaming. "Why weren't we told!"
"And what would that serve, to tell you that there is a prophecy about you. There is no purpose in that. The knowledge of this prophecy would not aid you in the least," she said softly.
"But that means Adrienne is a Perfect," Harry reasoned.
Wallace laughed. "Why do you think she is? What if it's you?"
"But I'm not," he said slowly, "and, even if I was, I would have wanted to know. I would have wanted to know if my sister is one too."
Wallace shook her head and pocketed the piece of paper. "She already knows, I'm sure of it. Why tell her?"
"Why not?" Ron argued, standing up from his chair, his face slightly red. "She's my girlfriend, you should have told her." He said this as if her being his girlfriend made all the difference.
"It makes it harder for her if she knows that we know," Wallace explained.
"Why? I'd think it would make it easier, let her know she isn't alone," Hermione snapped, narrowing her eyes in protest.
"But she is alone, Miss Granger, just as much as Potter is alone in his dealing with his past. No one can relate to what he's experienced. He can't really turn to anyone, can you, Harry?"
Harry blushed and looked away. But she was right. He tried to talk very little about how he felt about his parents' death, Wormtail's betrayal, what had happened that night in the cemetery. He couldn't put into words all his feelings and had just decided to keep them inside.
"Perfects are not highly thought of today, are they? Sure, theoretically it'd be great to have all the power they have, theoretically, that is. In actuality, Adrienne will never really use her powers, and partly because there is no one to teach her, partly because, well she already knows the implication of her abilities on her separation from the Dark Arts – "
"Who's explained this all to her? You? Dumbledore?" Harry asked, suddenly quite angry. She was acting as if teenagers frequently popped up with weird magical quirks.
"No she's been explained through, er, other means," Wallace stuttered.
She nervously checked the ends of her cloak arms, making Harry think that she was making sure they were low enough, but why?
"But she is a Perfect?" Harry clarified.
Wallace nodded. "Yes, Adrienne the Perfect nice ring, don't you think?"
"NICE RING!?" Ron exclaimed, crossing his arms. "That's all you have to say nice ring!"
Professor Wallace scowled and turned to look at Harry. "Harry, has Dumbledore ever led you wrong before?"
Harry didn't respond. Dumbledore had never done anything to lose Harry's trust, but why not tell them about the prophecy?
"He doesn't tell you everything because there are times for every revelation. And it wouldn't do to have you know about Adrienne being a Perfect from the beginning. They weren't even sure right away, they weren't even sure she was your sister at first. There have been instances of people looking almost identical even when they aren't related. He has his reasons for not explaining everything, trust him."
Hermione shook her head. "But this has been bothering Adrienne. It must be horrible for her to think first that those attacks at Salem happened because of her, and now to think that she could possibly be known as an outcast just because she can do magic differently. She's afraid this is torture to her."
Professor Wallace looked straight past Hermione and stared into Harry's eyes. "What doesn't kill her makes her stronger."
"Oh, let's make Adrienne stronger! Now that sounds like a grand idea! She's already been expelled for showing her strength you now want to make her stronger?" Ron exclaimed. "My poor mind"
"No! You're missing the point! She's weak. Admit it! She's weak. And as long as she's weak, she's a threat to us all." Wallace said, her voice low, her hands on her hips. There's a difference between you and her, Harry, a big difference. You're strong, stronger than she will ever be. And as a Perfect or not, she's no use to us if she is weak willed. What doesn't kill her makes her stronger."
"So you're torturing her?" Hermione asked, flabbergasted.
"Everything will be explained," Wallace replied, walking toward the door.
"Did you plant that parchment, to let us figure it out? That was a waste of time, you could have just told us," Ron said, "Stupid idea, really."
Wallace turned around, her hand on the doorknob. "No, I didn't plant it I was using it as a page-marker. Kind of forgot I was using it, didn't I?" she said sardonically. "Adrienne is fine, don't worry about her."
* * *
"Adrienne, it's after midnight!" The hangings on Adrienne's left suddenly were flung to the side and a shadowy face appeared in its place. "There's my wand! I was wondering what happened to it!"
Adrienne looked sheepishly down at the oak wand she was holding in her teeth, lit so she could read. It wasn't her fault she no longer had a wand to call her own, it was Professor Glenn's and his stupid Perfect test idea. Professors Glenn and Hartel had gone on that night to tell her that Dumbledore had informed them about her being a Perfect when they had visited Hogwarts, but made them promise not to tell her, saying she'd find out when she was ready. Obviously Joe decided that Dumbledore didn't know what he was talking about, and had taken it upon himself to inform her about her hidden abilities. Adrienne played along, letting them think she had no idea she was a Perfect, because, she rationalized, she couldn't really discuss being a Perfect with them without Voldemort removing the curse, or allowing her to suddenly discuss all her problems. So, she had spent the first three weeks of May explaining away her lack of wand by saying she lost it, and sharing one with Erica whenever she needed to do magic. This lack of a wand was a rather humbling experience in her mind. She really had been used to using magic to clean up messes, do her hair, lift heavy objects, and now she could only use magic to do those things when Erica wasn't using her wand, or like tonight, when Erica was asleep.
Adrienne pulled Erica's wand from her mouth and embarrassedly wiped it off on her pajamas.
"Sorry about that," Adrienne mumbled, handing the lit wand back to her friend.
Erica climbed onto the bed and settled herself cross-legged at the foot, letting the hangings fall closed around them.
"No big deal," Erica replied, but Adrienne noticed she was holding her wand at its middle and not at the end as was usual. "Question though, when do you plan on getting a new wand?" Erica asked.
Adrienne closed the book and placed her hands atop it to cover the title.
"Maramy's Wands never came back to the Gallows so the closest wand store is in Georgia. Georgia's a bit further away from the Gallows. I'll have to wait until summer break," Adrienne replied.
"But didn't some guy come to you at Hogwarts to sell you another wand?" Erica asked, scooting forward so there'd be more light for each of them. "Oh, I heard Professors Glenn and Hartel talking about that they said he was kind of creepy," Erica said, answering Adrienne's question before she could ask it.
"Yeah, but he lives in England; it'd be quite a trip, Apparating all the way here just to sell me a measly wand," she replied. "I'll just have to wait."
Erica nodded and turned her attention to the book sitting in Adrienne's lap. "So 'Miss I-Hate-Reading' is sacrificing her beauty sleep to read? What's the title?"
Adrienne looked down at her book and then hesitantly picked it up and showed it to Erica.
"Complete Control: The Imperious Curse hmm, sounds interesting," Erica replied sarcastically.
"Yeah, well, you remember how bad I was at fighting it last year. I thought I'd try and improve by reading about it," Adrienne lied, shrugging her shoulders. "It's actually kind of interesting."
"Wait, it has a Hogwarts library tag on the front," Erica noted, she began to laugh. "What, so attached to it that you had to steal it?"
Adrienne glared at her. "I forgot to turn it back it."
"Well, you can send it back with one of the Hogwarts kids when they come next week."
Adrienne's smile fell. She did not want them coming to Salem, especially not Harry, it wasn't safe she wasn't safe.
"Yeah, I could do that," Adrienne agreed.
"You know what I think, Adri?" Erica whispered, leaning forward.
Adrienne raised her eyebrows. "What?"
"We're going to win, definitely," Erica smiled, racing her shoulders in excitement. "I mean, hate to brag but we're good."
"But the Hogwarts team will be good too," Adrienne replied, suddenly feeling very defensive of Hogwarts.
Erica shook her head. "But I heard they had to take players from their House teams that their team for next week has only been practicing together for less than a month we have it in the bag."
Adrienne rolled her eyes. "But all the players are really good let's see, the last letter I got from my friends there"
She had actually written them back this time. It had been a group letter from Harry, Hermione, and Ron, saying that they needed to talk to her, and that Madam Pince wanted her book back. Adrienne had told them that she needed to talk to them too, but in reality she was planning on conveniently sneaking off to the Gallows that weekend, so not to have to see them.
"The Beaters are from the House I was in, Gryffindor Fred and George Weasley. The Keeper is the Hufflepuff Keeper, Jonas Hunter; he was really good, the best Keeper in the entire school. There's Montegue and Volstechy from Slytherin, and Garland from Ravenclaw: They're the Chasers. And then the Seeker, that's Harry Potter and he's-"
"Oh swoon!" Erica exclaimed, raising a hand to her forehead. "I simply love Harry Potter; he can be my prince in shining armor any day."
Adrienne raised a hand to try to muffle her laughter.
"Come on, Adrienne, don't tell me that when you were at Hogwarts you weren't secretly wishing he was seeing you," Erica whispered, grinning widely.
Adrienne laughed harder.
"I can safely say, Erica, that I never ever wished that, hoped that, or kept my fingers crossed that that would happen. Really, I might be sick," Adrienne whined.
"Adrienne Lily Miles! You are such a liar! Come on, if he looks as cute as he does in those articles from last year, how could you not think that?" Erica exclaimed.
"Believe me, I have a perfectly good reason for not thinking that and I'm not about to explain. And, Erica, I wouldn't think Hogwarts to be a pushover; be careful, or they'll wipe the pitch with you."
"Can I ride your Firebolt?" Erica asked suddenly, and then her face darkened. "Or, do you not feel a loyalty to us anymore? Think me riding it would give Salem an unfair advantage?"
Adrienne narrowed her eyes. "You don't honestly think that, do you?"
"Well, Adrienne, I don't know you're boyfriend does go to that school. And you did look pretty bummed to be back," Erica said, looking away, suddenly wishing she hadn't said anything.
"Give me a break, Erica I'm going to be neutral at the game."
Erica didn't look thrilled about this either. "Well, as long as you're not cheering for them. But I'm tired. See you tomorrow. Nox."
The light died away and Adrienne could feel Erica get off the bed and hear the hangings swing back into their place.
Adrienne pulled her knees to her chest and put her head atop them.
"Personally I got 50 galleons on Hogwarts with Professor Glenn, so they better win," she whispered into the dark.
* * *
"Who's missing?"
Lucius took a step forward from his place in line and gazed down the long row of Death Eaters. He shrugged his shoulders and stepped back into place, deciding that it can be Voldemort's lucky job to try and identify everyone without seeing their faces.
"I'm counting 76 or am I counting wrong?" Voldemort asked in a low voice, tapping his fingers irritably on the arm of his chair. "WHO IS MISSING!"
"Severus couldn't escape tonight – seems there was an accident in the lab earlier today. I think he's covered in boils," Lucius said boldly.
"I've already accounted for him, but someone else is missing."
There was a patter of feet and then suddenly a figure appeared in the doorway. Voldemort turned in his chair, his eyes blazing angrily.
"You are late! You are not late when I call you!" he hissed, standing up, his head bent low.
"Yes, well, had a little complication," said a feminine voice. W bowed slightly and took a step forward. "But Master, I have interesting news about the Potter boy."
Voldemort didn't seem impressed by this. He slowly reached into his robes and withdrew his wand, staring at her with a face of mock interest.
"Oh, really. And that's why you were late? Because you think you found something about him that I don't already know?"
"I thought, I thought it" W stuttered, obviously surprised that her piece of information didn't intrigue him at all.
"You thought? Did I say you could think? Did I say you could speak before me? Did I or did I not order your attendance, and you are late?" he drawled.
Some Death Eaters shifted uncomfortably, others smiled under their masks, wondering if her death would be an entertaining one. Voldemort took another step closer to her, expecting her to take a step away or at least start apologizing profusely, even maybe beg for her life. W, however, didn't do any of this. She crossed her arms before her and took a step toward him.
"Potter knows about Adrienne being a Perfect wasn't his not knowing essential for her to cooperate?" she asked boldly.
Voldemort stopped walking, clearly surprised, and then he laughed.
"Does she know he knows? Besides, it doesn't matter. She'll do whatever I tell her to it doesn't matter," he said quietly. "So really, that wasn't an excuse for being late, was it?"
This time W took a step backwards, uncrossing her arms, clearly having lost her nerve.
"But you meant well, didn't you? You had the good of the cause in mind, didn't you?" he asked, taking another step closer to her. "I applaud that." He pocketed his wand and then, before W could even take another breath, had hit her around the face. She spun around, completely unprepared for it.
"You'll show more respect next time, won't you?" he growled.
W straightened up, raising a hand to her face.
"I'm sorry, My Lord," she muttered.
"Louder," he demanded.
"I'm sorry, My Lord!" she repeated.
"Go back to your place in line, now!"
W turned and walked purposefully toward the end of the line.
"Now that we're all here," Voldemort began, his red eyes falling viciously on W, "this weekend, Harry Potter will be at Salem, where his sister is. Lucius, I assume you've gained possession of all the ingredients necessary?"
"Yes, Master. The potion will be ready in time for the game," Lucius replied.
"Excellent." Voldemort looked around at his followers, a thin, lipless smile engulfing his face. "This Saturday, my loyal Death Eaters, once again the world will face our wrath. Once again we will obtain our rightful rule. The world will cower before us, just like before."
Several minutes later, W began to file out of the chamber along with the Death Eaters ahead of her. She had almost reached the chamber's door when someone grabbed her shoulder and spun her around.
"Just one more thing."
Voldemort was standing behind her, his face expressionless, his eyes cold.
"Yes Master?" W asked, wondering if her voice was shaking at all, or if it was just her imagination.
Voldemort pulled her closer, his fingers digging into her collarbone.
"Perhaps you know too much about the plan?" he asked coolly, his eyes boring into hers.
"Perhaps I should know more than I do," she replied. "Obviously I seem to be the least informed of all here."
"You and Snape," Voldemort corrected, still staring at her contemplatively.
"You don't seem to trust him," she responded, reaching up and prying his hand from her shoulder. "Why?"
"For the same reason I don't trust you. You work for Dumbledore," Voldemort hissed, taking a step away from her.
"And your point being?" she pressed, smirking behind her mask.
"My point being, Wallace, that the less you know, the less of a liability you are."
Voldemort reached into his robes and pulled out his wand. Professor Lindsay Wallace didn't have any time to react, and her eyes widened in fear, waiting for her death to come but it didn't.
"Obliviate," Voldemort snapped, and a white jet of light burst from his wand, hitting her square between the eyes. Professor Wallace took a step backwards, an awkward hand flying to her head in pain.
"We were discussing our annual Death Eater banquet you fell while demonstrating how to dance," Voldemort said dully as she looked at him through dazed eyes. "You should return to Hogwarts now, they might miss you soon."
"Yes, My Lord," she whispered, turned, and walked from the room. "Since when do we have Death Eater banquets?" she murmured.
* * *
"We're supposed to be in lines!" Hermione called out, her irritated voice getting lost in the clamor of voices projecting through the corridors.
"Don't think anyone heard you, Hermione," Ron said with satisfaction, a large smile plastered upon his face.
"And what are you so happy about?" Hermione asked begrudgingly.
Even though her gleaming Prefect badge was sitting upon her chest, not one of the Gryffindors were listening to her directions for them to line up as McGonagall had instructed the day before.
"Oh, just thinking about what I'm going to do once I get to Salem," he said dreamily.
"You're going to sit in the stands and cheer for Hogwarts and yell me encouragement," Harry said quietly.
He was walking next to Ron, his Firebolt held close to his body to prevent it from being knocked by the surrounding students.
"Of course that," Ron said, "but more importantly, talk to Adrienne."
"Please! We all are to be lined up before exiting the castle!" Hermione yelled, her hands cupped at her mouth, hoping to project her voice.
Not one person turned around or made any action to try to follow her order. She narrowed her eyes.
"Well, you better hope she doesn't have to sit with her Professors, especially not that Glenn guy, he has it out for you," she said to Ron through pursed lips. Then, her hands on her hips, she strode away.
Ron groaned. "I forgot all about him!" he whined. "Now what do I do?"
"Smile pleasantly at him and portray yourself as a gentleman. He may feel less lousy about cursing you if you come off as a well-bred young man," Harry suggested, walking upon his tiptoes and trying not to laugh as Hermione had finally reached the front of the Gryffindor students, where Dennis Creevey was hopping up and down excitedly and yelling something at Fred and George, who both had very mischievous expressions upon their faces.
"This is a line!" Hermione yelled as she grabbed Dennis and Fred by the collars and pulled them into a line behind George. No one seemed to respond to her demonstration and kept chatting wildly, trying to push past her.
Hermione scowled. "If you don't fall into line, you get to sit with me at the game!"
That did it. The students instantly fell silent and all heads turned to look at her as she continued to hold Fred and Dennis into place behind George. And then, there was a mad rush to fall into line, several first years sending horrified looks at Hermione, whose eyes were wide in anger and her hair hanging down in her face from her attempt to pull Fred, who had put up quite the fight. Satisfied with the line, she nodded, raised an eyebrow to warn everyone to stay in their place, and then walked to the back, where Ron and Harry were bringing up the rear.
"A little touchy today?" Ron asked as she walked by, her hands tangled in her hair, trying to pull it back out of her face.
"She's nervous," Harry corrected, trying not to smile.
"I most definitely am not!" Hermione exclaimed as they entered the Entrance Hall.
"You are too," he replied, turning to look at her so he wouldn't have to see Cho as they walked past the Ravenclaws, who were waiting for their turn to file out of the castle.
"What, afraid someone at Salem might know more than you?" Ron asked innocently.
Hermione promptly stomped on his foot in reply.
"You don't have to get violent about it," he mumbled through gritted teeth.
"I don't see what you're nervous about you're not the one playing," Harry remarked as they neared the large Entrance Doors.
"No, I'm just the one who declared Adrienne to be a pathological liar," Hermione said briskly. "I feel a bit lousy now."
"As you should," chastised Ron in a righteous tone.
Hermione made to stomp on his foot again, but Harry held her back.
"You should talk! You didn't believe her either," Hermione hissed, shrugging off Harry's restraining hands.
"I was brainwashed by a certain Prefect," Ron commented loftily.
"This could be a long day," Harry mumbled, stepping directly between Hermione and Ron so they couldn't see one another.
"This isn't going to work," Professor Flitwick said in a pessimistic voice, his small blue eyes roaming frantically over the throng of Gryffindor students pouring excitedly form the Entrance Doors.
They were wearing their black school robes and carrying various signs, all enchanted with color changing spells so that the various pro-Hogwarts slogans flashed in prism colors.
"Entropy," Professor Vector mumbled gloomily, her hooded eyes narrowed in horror at he chaotic sight before her, "this is a perfect model of entropy."
"Please stand with your Houses! Keep the lines, please keep the lines!" Professor McGonagall called, the magical megaphone usually used by Lee at the games, held up to her thin lips. "This is ridiculous," she snapped, lowering the megaphone.
"Oh, but isn't it fun?" Dumbledore asked pleasantly as he strode toward her. He was wearing majestic purple robes and a purple hat with gold trim sat squarely atop his silver hair.
McGonagall blinked at him and then frowned. "This is madness."
Dumbledore smiled jovially and held out his arm for the megaphone.
"Oh, by all means, you try and organize them all," she exclaimed, flustered.
Dumbledore turned to face the entrance steps and waited for the orderly Gryffindor line to finish exiting the castle, Hermione Granger, her arms crossed, bringing up the rear.
"Silence. Can we have silence?" Dumbledore's voice resonated through the crowd, and slowly the roar of teenage voices died down, and a sea of excited faces fixated themselves on the Headmaster. "Today is an exciting day, and a first for Hogwarts."
Dumbledore looked around at the students, who, miraculously, had maintained some sort of linear formation.
"But before we begin our journey I'd like to review a few rules," he raised his graying eyebrows at the many groans and waited for the student's protests to subside. "First, we are guests at the Salem Academy, and thus must act upon our most formal behaviors. This means respecting both your fellow students and the Salem students and following your professors' orders as well as the Salem professors' orders. We will arrive there in time for a lunch picnic and you all will then have several free hours to socialize. There will be no traveling to the Gallows. At five the Quidditch match will begin, and following the ending, we will begin our journey back."
Dumbledore turned around to nod at the Professors lined up behind him, each carrying a large cardboard box.
"The professors are coming around with boxes of buttons, enchanted into port-keys. For those of you who haven't traveled by port-key before, it is nothing to get your socks tied about. Just pick up the button and the charm begins. The Salem Professors will be waiting for your arrival, and we will follow once all of you have left. Enjoy the day and remember, best behavior!"
Harry, Hermione, and Ron stood silently as the Professors fanned out from behind Dumbledore, each carrying a small box, and heading toward the ends of each respective line.
"Well, just think, a few minutes and we'll be halfway across the world," Ron said thoughtfully, his eyes fixated upon Professor Wallace, who was walking their way.
"Were you tired of your hair-style?" Hermione asked as she approached.
Wallace shrugged and smiled.
"Well, since we are supposed to be impressing our associates over there, thought maybe blue hair might put them off a bit," she said, adjusting her grip on the box.
"I thought you were a blonde?" Ron asked abruptly, staring at her reddish-black hair.
"Bleach, wonderful thing," she said as she held the box toward them. "Now, enjoy the day, and say hi to your little friend for me."
Harry was the first to reach into the box and enclose his fingers upon one of the shiny black buttons laying rest in it, and then, the familiar hooking feeling behind his navel took root, and his feet flew from the ground. And then, as suddenly as it had started, it all stopped and he was lying face down in grass.
"Come on, boy, let's get you up, or someone may come raining down upon you," said a soft voice above him.
Harry quickly jumped up, brushed the grass from his school robes, and then turned to look at the tall professor standing next to him.
"The names Meagan O'Reilly," she said, reaching for his hand to shake it.
"Nice to meet you," Harry said wearily, suddenly realizing that he'd have to introduce himself to everyone he met, which was suddenly sounding like a daunting task. "I'm Harry."
Professor O'Reilly smiled, her eyes lingering for a moment on his scar, but she didn't say anything, and quickly turned her attention to the large amount of students in black robes that were suddenly appearing face down upon the ground.
"Hermione?" Harry called, tightening his grip on his Firebolt and running forward to pull her off the ground, then turning is attention to Ron.
"Sickening things, really," Ron muttered, narrowing his eyes at the button. "What we do with these things anyway?"
Hermione pointed to a large bin standing before them, the words 'port-keys' painted upon it.
"You have to turn it in, so it can be reactivated," she said knowingly, striding forward and tossing hers inside it.
Harry and Ron followed, each wondering when they missed those instructions.
"So," Hermione began once they had left the arrival area, "seems we have some time before the game."
"Yeah," Ron agreed, standing up on his tiptoes to stare around the large Salem grounds, his eyes searching for a hint of black hair, but to his immense disappointment, there were many girls with black hair roaming around. "Where do you think she is?"
"She said she'd meet us," Hermione replied, she too standing up on her tiptoes to try and discern Adrienne from the crowd of green robes that were slowly beginning to mingle with the black robed students.
Harry turned around, his eyes falling upon the entrance steps to the Salem castle.
"We could go there," he said, pointing to the steps, "And then we could see everyone."
* * *
"Goody," Adrienne replied dully, turning the page in Dueler's Weekly. "Professor Hartel, get this! Bradley Parrin, he duels with a birch wand!" she exclaimed.
"Yeah, the only one I know who can do that those birch wands are so very weak," Mia said as she emerged from her bedroom, straightening her indigo robes. "Adrienne! What are you doing?"
Adrienne was sitting on Mia's sofa, her feet hanging over the back, her head hanging over the seat, the magazine held over her head.
"Reading," Adrienne replied nonchalantly, turning the page. "And Jasmine Lycé, I told you she teaches at Hogwarts, right?"
Adrienne turned her head, which was quite red, to look at Mia.
"Yes, she teaches the new dueling course, I think you've mentioned it, oh, more than several times," Mia said, a tinge of annoyance in her voice that Adrienne didn't pick up.
"She duels with a sycamore wand a sycamore wand, I didn't even know they made those," Adrienne said, turning back to her magazine.
"I duel with a sycamore wand," Mia said darkly, striding forward and grabbing the magazine from Adrienne's hands.
"Hey! I wasn't done with that yet!" Adrienne cried, rolling off the sofa, careful to avoid the coffee table.
"Well, I bought it," Mia replied, searching anxiously through the pages. "Ah ha! Here I am Mia Enid Hartel-Glenn." She looked up at Adrienne, a smug smile on her face. "Let's see what it says about me, shall we?"
She cleared her throat and began to skim the page.
"This has to be my favorite part: 'At Seventeen, Mia Hartel was the youngest and first girl to ever claim the International Dueling Championship, out-dueling Henry Blogsford with a spectacular and original use of the Tarantellegra Hex.'"
"I've heard this before," Adrienne said, rolling her eyes and smiling at her Professor, whose smug smile had widened into a proud grin.
"Oh, look, I'm said to be one of the most accomplished duelers to ever compete at the International Circuit," she said, haughtily.
"All right, enough of you, see if I'm in there," Adrienne said eagerly, running forward to look on with Mia.
"Fine," she grumbled, turning the pages, looking for Adrienne's name. "Here, let's see: 'The bubbly, if overly clumsy, Adrienne L. Miles, wowed the Magical world with her spectacular mastery of the dueling art at the 1995 Underage International Dueling Championships.' Then there's some boring stuff about your life in a Muggle orphanage, and look, now we're to the good part: 'Miles is under the dueling instruction of master dueler, Mia Hartel-Glenn.'"
"You're so full of yourself, Professor Hartel!" Adrienne laughed, grabbing the magazine from her hands.
Mia watched her with amusement as Adrienne flopped back down on the couch.
"Your head still bothering you, Adri?" Mia asked, bending down as Adrienne raised a hand to head in pain.
"Nah, not much, just aches sometimes," she muttered, lowering her hand and turning her attention back to the magazine.
Ever since her fall in the Cafeteria, her head had been bothering her.
"You sure?" Mia pressed.
"Of course, now let me read I'm to Mallory Makavoich I hate her," Adrienne grumbled.
Mia straightened up and pulled her sleeve up to look at her watch.
"Adrienne, hate to tell you, but we're late. I was supposed to be down there welcoming the Hogwarts students over fifteen minutes ago," Mia sighed. "We better go."
"Where's Professor Glenn?" Adrienne asked as she stood up, throwing Dueler's Weekly back onto the sofa.
"Joe had some stuff to do concerning all this Port-key business," Mia replied as she and Adrienne walked through the mirror and entered the empty corridor.
They walked in silence, Adrienne playing nervously with the hem of her sleeves, casting quick glances up at Mia, who wasn't looking at her. As they neared the Entrance Hall, the voices of the thousand plus students mingling out on the grounds could be heard vibrating down the corridors. Adrienne stopped suddenly.
"Professor, I forgot something up in my dormitory, I have to run back and get it," she said calmly, her shaking hands hidden behind her.
Mia turned, a curious expression on her face.
"Here, I'll go up with you then," she answered, turning around.
Adrienne shook her head.
"No, it's ok, you're all ready late. I'll catch up in a few minutes," she said. "Go on out, Professor, and be bossy."
"I am not bossy," Mia said, but she smiled. "Fine, I'll see you in a few minutes, but don't take too long, Adri, you don't want to miss all the fun."
"Don't worry about me!" Adrienne called behind her as she jogged back through the castle, casting glances back to make sure Mia hadn't decided to follow anyway.
Her dormitory was completely empty and the window looking over the grounds was open. Adrienne quickly walked toward it, stopping right before it. She stared out over the grounds. Hundreds of students were standing below, clad in emerald and black robes. The older ones were standing in groups, some of the younger ones running around wildly, playing tag. Adrienne's eyes searched the crowds, trying to make out a spot of flaming red hair, but she couldn't find any. She slowly stepped back from her window.
"This bites," she moaned, turning around and staring at her empty dormitory. "I have a really bad feeling."
She wrapped her arms around herself and walked over to her bed, falling backwards onto it, making herself comfortable.
"I'm not going down there. I'm not. I'm not speaking to them. I'm not finding them," she instructed herself. "He's safer with me in here."
She had been planning on escaping to the Gallows, but realized that since the only way to reach the Gallows was by walking through the grounds, she'd for sure be spotted by someone.
'So, child, how's the reunion?'
Adrienne sat up straight in bed.
"Not you again!" she hissed, crossing her arms before herself.
'Have you spoken to your brother yet today?' Voldemort asked, his voice soft.
"I plead the Fifth," Adrienne replied.
'Have you already forgotten our agreement? I ask you a question and you answer, or must I force you to do that too?' Voldemort hissed.
"I have a bad headache already; you're only making it worse. Can't we reschedule this conversation, say for another time, maybe fifty years from now," she remarked tiredly.
'If your request is to reschedule, then I believe I can grant you that this one time. I'll be speaking to you later, tonight. Bring your brother with you.'
And then, Adrienne's mind cleared. "That wasn't exactly what I meant," she whispered.
"Are you sure this is the way?"
Adrienne turned slowly in her bed, her jaw dropping in disbelief.
"No way," she mumbled, jumping up from her bed and searching for her Firebolt, thinking she could jump from the window. "No! I loaned it to Erica!"
"Professor Hartel said you couldn't miss it; it's the only dormitory door with a poster of Lockhart."
Adrienne was sure of it, that was Hermione's voice.
"Is it just me, or is Lockhart wearing a bathing suit?"
And that was Harry.
"Oh no," Adrienne drawled, staring at the door with a horrified expression. "Go away," she hissed, her eyes scanning the room for somewhere to hide. "It's better if you just stay away from me go away!"
"It looks like he's just tamed a Kelpie," Hermione commented.
"Wait, does that Kelpie look unusually one-dimensional?" Harry asked, his voice wafting through the closed door.
"I think the moron's riding a cardboard kelpie!" Ron shouted, laughing suddenly. "What a good-for-nothing show off! Really a shame, isn't it, that he got his memory back?"
Hermione rolled her eyes and pushed the door to Dormitory Five open.
"Adrienne?" she called.
"Looks a little empty," Ron said as he walked in, stroking is chin in thought. "Didn't that professor of hers say she was going to be in her dormitory?"
"Yeah," Harry answered, walking forward.
Adrienne tilted her head slightly to the side, just enough to see Harry's feet stop at the window. Note to self, clean under the bed sometime soon, she thought.
"Look at all those people," Harry said in amazement. "This is mad! I can't believe they got this all together."
"Who did they send your permission slip to anyway?" Hermione asked.
Adrienne could now see her black school shoes standing next to Harry's.
"Sirius I suppose," Harry commented nonchalantly.
"I wonder where Adrienne is?"
Adrienne didn't have to turn to look to see where Ron was, because the sinking of the bed atop her told her exactly what he was doing.
"I can't breathe," Adrienne whispered to herself.
"Maybe she's down there looking for us, we could have missed her while walking up here," Hermione said, reaching up and pulling her hair into a ponytail.
"We wouldn't have missed her if you hadn't insisted on trying to run off and find the house elves. Good thing Harry caught the back of your robes, or you'd have spent all day interrogating them," Ron snapped.
He was lying atop Adrienne's bed and staring into the canopy above.
I really need to clean under here, Adrienne thought, wrinkling her nose at all the dust flying around from Ron falling atop the bed.
"Ron, I just wanted to see the house-elves," Hermione snapped, turning around to glare at him.
"Achoo!"
Harry turned around in surprise.
"Who sneezed?" Ron asked, sitting up and staring at his two friends.
"I didn't sneeze," Hermione said.
"Me either," said Harry. He slowly walked away from the window and stared around the room.
"Maybe it was ghost?" Ron suggested.
"Ghosts don't sneeze!" Hermione said, shaking her head.
She walked over and sat down next to Ron.
"Achoo!"
Harry stopped walking and slowly bent down, his eyes scanning the floor, first to his left, and then to his right, finally stopping on the last bed in the corner.
"Adrienne! What are you doing?" he asked in surprise, realizing that the something under the far bed had black hair and was wearing green robes.
I'm caught, Adrienne thought.
"Looking for dust bunnies?" she suggested in a muffled voice. "I was thinking about starting a collection."
"Adrienne!" Suddenly Ron's face appeared upside-down at her side, smiling broadly. "Why didn't you say anything before?"
"Someone was sitting on my chest! I couldn't really breathe," she lied.
"Oh, right."
Ron and Hermione slid off the bed and watched as Adrienne inched out from under it, covered from head to toe in dust. She looked sheepishly at them and then smiled unsurely.
"So, how do you like Salem?" she asked, looking away and trying to brush away the dust.
"Is there a reason you were hiding under the bed?" Hermione asked, walking forward to help clean her off.
"I already told you, trying to start a dust-bunny collection. But, I didn't find any rabbits under my bed. I think people lied to me," Adrienne said in a long-suffering voice.
"You do know that dust-bunnies aren't real rabbits, don't you?" Hermione asked, a tinge of amusement in her voice.
Adrienne's jaw dropped in protest.
"Really? No way! What a disappointment" she moaned.
"We missed you," Ron exclaimed, stepping forward to hug her.
"Did you?" Adrienne asked, not very reassured.
"Of course we did," Harry said, staring at her with a skeptical expression.
Adrienne stared at Harry for a second, Voldemort's words coming back to her. I'm not going to help anyone get killed, she told herself in a strict voice, I have to lose them all.
"Oh, I forgot, I have to tell Professor Hartel something about yeah, the Quidditch game. Come on!" Adrienne said hastily, pulling away from Ron and motioning for them to follow her.
She ran toward the dormitory door.
"Seems she missed us a great deal," Hermione whispered to Harry as they ran after her.
"She just doesn't want to talk to you because you haven't apologized yet," Ron whispered before Harry could say anything.
Adrienne ran through the corridors, periodically looking over her shoulder to see if they were still there.
"Why can't you just leave me alone?" she whispered to herself as she ran. "Really, I don't think I'm the right type of person to be pursuing a friendship with right now."
"Adrienne, hold up!" Harry called from behind them.
He was still carrying his Firebolt and kept accidentally knocking Hermione with it, who was now glaring at him.
"I think she's out with the other professors!" Adrienne yelled as she pushed one of the entrance doors open.
She stopped running and held it open for her three friends.
"We really need to talk to you, Adrienne," Harry said, softly grabbing her arm as he walked through the door.
"Yeah, let me talk to Professor Hartel first," Adrienne said, looking away and pulling out of his grasp.
She hopped down the steps and began looking for Professor Hartel, finding her easily because she was standing next to Hagrid near the edge of the forest, several other professors grouped next to them.
"There they are," Adrienne instructed, pointing their direction. She turned to look at Harry. "Why don't you guys go get some lunch, while I talk to her. Then I'll meet you back here, at the entrance steps, ok?" she asked, smiling in what she hopped was a winning manner.
"Fine, we'll get the food, but we really need to talk to you, Adrienne," Hermione answered, grabbing Harry and steering him away, Ron reluctantly following.
"Do you get the feeling she isn't very keen on speaking with us?" Hermione asked as they reached the food line in the middle of the grounds.
"Definitely," Harry mumbled, turning around to stare through the crowd where Hagrid and Hartel were talking. Adrienne wasn't near them. "Where'd she go?"
"Who, Adrienne?" Ron asked, looking up from ground where he was staring at a smashed flobberworm. "She had to go talk to Professor Hartel, remember?"
"She isn't there," Harry said, reaching up and adjusting his glasses just in case.
Ron turned around and stared where Harry was pointing. "Then where'd she go?"
* * *
Adrienne didn't stop running until she had reached a small clearing in the forest, the same clearing where she had lost her wand on Christmas. She bent over to catch her breath, feeling as if someone was going to barge in on her any moment. Once she had caught her breath she straightened and looked around the clearing. It was small, maybe only ten feet wide, and surrounded by thick oak trees. In the middle was a fallen log, covered in moss. Adrienne walked toward it and sat down.
"I'm going to sit right here until the game starts," she said, staring at a patch of mushrooms growing several feet away. "That way, I'm not near anyone. Then I'll go back to the game, cheer Harry on, and slip away before he can find me. I can't help Voldemort catch him if I'm not near him."
Adrienne smiled at her reasoning and leaned forward, her elbows on her knees.
"Only three hours until the game starts," she said as she looked down at her watch. "This could be rather boring."
* * *
"Good evening Salem and Hogwarts! I'm your Salem announcer, Brandon Hanson – "
"And I'm Lee Jordan, the friendly Hogwartarian commentator!"
The Quidditch stands were packed, a sea of emerald and black robes intermingled in the seats. There were banners everywhere, some reading 'Slay Salem!' others reading 'Let's have a HOGwarts roast!'
"And it looks like this will be an interesting game, don't you agree Lee?" Brandon asked, turning to look at the boy sitting next to him.
They were seated at the very top of the stands, in a tall box that was enchanted to rise with the play of the game.
"Well, none of the Hogwarts players have ever played in an interschool game before," Lee commented, "but I don't think that will stop them." Lee glanced down at his watch. "It looks like five minutes until the start, what can we be expecting from the Salem team, Brandon, anything we should be watching for?"
Hermione and Ron carefully climbed the steps, Hermione finding it much easier this time now that she wasn't carrying a large book.
"Where did she run off to?" Ron moaned miserably as they took seats in the fifth from top row, directly below the announcer's box.
"We're not going back to Hogwarts until we speak with her!" Hermione snapped, crossing her arms before her. "I can't believe she just disappeared like that!"
"Well, the Salem team captain is sixth year Lauren Granthum, an amazingly swift chser and a member of the Eastern Coast Conference All-Star Team, which incidentally won the finals over the Southern Conference All-Stars just two weeks ago."
Lee rolled his eyes, leaned back in his chair, and propped his feet up upon the table before them, telling himself it was going to be a long night commentating with Brandon.
"And then there's our Beaters, Erica Lessie and Chance Copperstone. Erica is the first female Beater to play for Salem in over a hundred years, and as a word of wisdom, Lee, don't make her mad, she isn't strong enough to chuck bludgers for nothing."
"Well, our other two chasers are Danielle Kellerman and Jenna Kyle. They're new to the team this year, both are only third years, but are pretty good aims.
"Sounds interesting, we have some pretty good Chasers too, take for ex – "
"And then there's our Keeper, Anna Zimmerman, boy is she feisty, tries to pick a fight about everything, that girl does."
"Only one guy on your team?" Lee asked in a shocked voice: Usually Quidditch teams were made primarily of men.
"Two, you didn't let me finish, champ," Brandon said, sending Lee a jaunty, winning smile. "Charlie Grey, he's our Seeker – "
"And speaking of Seekers," Lee interrupted, "Harry Potter will be playing as the Hogwarts Seeker. He's been playing his entire time at Hogwarts, making the Gryffindor House team his first year."
"Boys" Lee and Brandon turned; Professor McGonagall and Professor Glenn were standing behind them.
"This is not a brag about your teammates event," Glenn said, pulling up a chair next to Brandon.
"And Mr. Jordan, please, amuse me stick to the game once it begins, alright?" McGonagall asked wearily, sitting down next to him, glad to take weight off her aching feet. Several of the first years from both schools had started frog throwing contests, and she had spent the last hour trying to break it up.
"Right, and we're back!" Brandon shouted into his megaphone. "So Harry Potter is playing for Hogwarts. Tell me Lee, is he really all he's cracked up to be? I mean, is he the lady-killer we all hear about?"
Lee almost fell over backwards trying not to laugh.
"Who, Potter? Nah, sorry to all those girls out there, but he's spoken for," Lee remarked.
*
"Adrienne? What are you doing here?" Mia asked as Adrienne walked into the teachers' box, which was situated adjacent to the announcer's box, but it didn't move with the play of the game.
"Couldn't find Hermione and Ron," Adrienne lied as she let the door swing shut behind her. She knew exactly where they were sitting: Section G Row 95, four seats in from the center line.
"Oh," Mia replied, turning back around to stare down onto the field. Large clear baskets of fairies were being raised into the air with levitation charms, providing a sudden burst of light in the dusky sky. "You can sit up here with me then," she said, patting the seat next to her.
"Isn't Professor Glenn going to sit with you I don't really want to cause a lover's squabble," Adrienne muttered gloomily as she walked forward to take the seat.
"Adrienne," Mia groaned, rolling her eyes, "Like always he's up supervising Brandon; stupid boy always gets on tangents, you know, takes forever to get him back on track."
"I say thump him over the head a good couple of times and he'll learn his lesson," Adrienne said, shrugging her shoulders as if a good thumping always solved problems.
"There will be no thumping of anyone, clear?" Professor Bell called from her seat next to Dumbledore, whom Adrienne meticulously avoided looking at.
"Tsk tsk, Professor Bell, you're no fun at all," Adrienne murmured, scooting to the edge of her chair so she could lean her elbows against the railing. "Is it almost time to start?" she drawled.
*
"And here they come, the home team, the Salem Stakeburners!" Brandon cried, jumping up as seven players clad in emerald robes walked onto the pitch.
They all carried their brooms over their left shoulders, their heads fixated straight before them. Cheers rang through the crowd, various banners flew up into the air, and then a tune began to pick up from the far corner where a group of all Salem students stood, snottily segregating themselves from everyone else.
'We are the mighty Salem Stakeburners,
We hold our heads up high
Honest and true we play our game -
So sit back and watch us fly!
We are the mighty Salem Stakeburners
And we'll put up a fight
So settle down and raise your hats
To watch us win tonight!'
"How come they have a song?" Ron whispered dejectedly to Hermione. "How come we don't have a song."
"We do too have a song, we sung it our first year you remember," Hermione answered, sitting up tall in her seat so she would have a better view of the pitch when Harry walked on.
"Oh, right, do we get to sing too?" Ron asked, a hint of excitement threaded into his tone.
"Have we ever sung at a Quidditch game?" Hermione asked shortly, not taking her eyes off the pitch.
"And now, the visiting team, all the way from Scotland, the Hogwarts the Hogwarts," Brandon stuttered and turned to look at Lee, lowering the megaphone and covering it with his hand, "what are you guys called?" he hissed.
Lee screwed his face up in thought. "Um, we don't really have a name we usually just went by the houses – "
"Yes, the Hogwarts team!" Brandon called into the megaphone as Roland Montegue led the seven students onto the field.
"I still don't know how Montegue made captain!" Ron groaned.
"He's the oldest besides Fred and George and come on, they really can't be captains, now, shhhh," Hermione hissed, unconsciously crossing her fingers in preparation for the match.
From the locker rooms beneath the stands, the Hogwarts team marched upon the pitch, their black robes flopping about them in the lazy wind. The Salem team was already lined up in the center of the pitch, the captain, Lauren Granthum, eyeing the approaching team suspiciously. Montegue stopped before her, his sullen eyes hidden behind his low eyebrows. Harry, bringing up the rear, stopped across from the tall, which was unusual, Seeker, Charlie Gray, who smiled a dashing smile, causing Harry to wonder where he had seen him before. It wasn't until the referee, a wizard visiting from France asked for Montegue and Granthum to shake hands that Harry realized that he had seen Charlie on the cover of the magazine, Quadpot and Quidditch, while visiting during the previous summer.
"They're so much bigger than us," Anna muttered to her best friend, Lauren, as the Frenchman, Giovanni Bonacelli, motioned for the box carrying the balls to be brought onto the field. "This is a conspiracy."
Lauren leaned slightly to her left and spoke through the corner of her mouth: "You think everything is a conspiracy. Plus, the bigger they are, the slower they fly."
Harry tightened his grip on his Firebolt and turned his head to stare into the stands, searching for Hermione, Ron, and Adrienne. Where is she? he asked himself in disgust. She hadn't come back from speaking with Professor Hartel. Harry was beginning to think that Adrienne was training to work a disappearing act in a circus.
"Tweet!" the sharp sound of a whistle filled his ears and he leapt into the air, soaring upward in record timing.
"And the game's begun!" Brandon yelled into his microphone. "Now we'll see if these Hogwarts students live up to the reputation everyone is giving them."
"And Granthum is first the quaffle!" Lee announced, interrupting Brandon, who had a smug expression on his face and was writing a sloppy note betting 15 galleons on the outcome of the game.
"Granthum is a marvelous player. She really knows how to maneuver that broom. It looks like one of the carrot-tops – " Brandon said, pushing his note to a nearby owl who picked it up in his beak and flew away.
"That's Fred Weasely – " Lee interjected, but Brandon waved him off.
"has sent a bludger her way. And she rolls to escape it."
"A nice hand off to fellow chaser Danielle Kellerman," Lee said rapidly, glaring at Brandon who looked extremely put off for being interrupted.
"And Kellerman nears the Salem posts, where their Keeper, Hunter, is waiting. You know what Lee?" Brandon turned, the megaphone still up to his mouth, to look at Lee. "I just don't see how your Hunter can hold up; Kellerman is a top notch player. I'd bet my life on her scoring."
"I wouldn't make that bet, Brandon. Kellerman shoots and Hunter blocks, tossing the quaffle back into play. It's intercepted by Hogwarts' Volstechy."
Harry turned his head to follow the quaffle as Volstechy handed off to Montegue, who in turn faked to Garland. Harry squinted ahead, his eyes searching for the snitch.
"And its Garland – "
"But look, here comes Salem beater Erica Lessie."
A sickening crack filled the air, but Harry didn't turn around to see if Garland had actually been hit; he didn't need to. From the excited look on George's face ahead of him, Harry could guess that George had knocked Lessie's bludger off course.
"Don't worry!" Brandon exclaimed as groans emitted from the Salem supporters. "That Hogwarts chic – "
"Not the best word!" Professor Glenn chastised, turning to glare at Brandon, who just ignored him.
" – still has to pass the Keeper."
Anna Zimmerman stared wide-eyed as Garland came barreling toward her. She leaned forward on her broom, her knees held tight against the stick, her arms before her, ready to catch.
"I hate this game!" Anna muttered as Garland sped to her right, faked, and then looped up to shoot at the far left goal. "And I hate you!" Anna screamed as she flew at top speed toward the far goal.
She flung her hand forward and knocked the quaffle, sending it onto the edge of a golden ring and bouncing away. Garland's face fell at Anna's lucky block.
"And our Zimmerman has saved the day!" Brandon called as Anna dived to catch the quaffle, yelling back up at Garland, "Chica! Looks like you could use some practice!"
The game continued and Harry continued his ever existing glare over the pitch, searching desperately for a glint of gold. But none came and as he cris-crossed the pitch, his green eyes often flickering over to Grey, who too wasn't having any luck, Harry turned his attention back to the game.
"And Kyle's stolen the Quaffle from Volstechy and is making her way down the field. Is it just me, Brandon, or is she really hot," Lee said, his eyes widening, a small smile breaking upon his face, which quickly faded as McGonagall slapped the back of his head.
"And what does that have anything to do with the game?" she hissed.
"Right, and it's Kyle, on a breakaway – OUCH – that had to hurt, a bludger straight to the stomach, she should have seen that one coming," Lee said, shaking his head in sympathy.
"You sure you don't see Adrienne anywhere?" Hermione asked, elbowing Ron, who was bent forward in his seat, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, his eyes wide with the excitement of the game. He ignored her.
"Ron," Hermione hissed, elbowing him again. "Do you see her anywhere?"
"Shhh, Hermione, I'm trying to watch a game," he said, elbowing her back.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Ron! Do you see her?
Ron slowly turned his head, an impatient scowl on his face. "No, I've been watching the game, how would I have seen her unless she was out prancing upon the field. We'll find her afterwards. See, I told you you should have apologized right away," he said angrily.
"And the score is now 100- 40 Salem. Well, Lee, it doesn't look very good for your team so far. And if your Potter doesn't catch the snitch soon, then I think Salem might be having a victory party tonight!" Brandon said in a cocky voice.
Harry rolled his eyes at Brandon's commentary and suddenly swerved to his left, smiling at Fred at George who were making to hit two oncoming bludgers. Harry's eyes drifted to the Hogwarts goals, where Anna Zimmerman was hovering, her arms crossed before her, and she wore an insubordinate expression; she didn't look like she wanted to be there at all. He was just beginning to wonder why she would join the team if she never had any fun playing, when a glint of gold flicked far above the far left corner of the pitch.
"And would you look at that!" Lee exclaimed, jumping out of his seat, Brandon quickly following suit.
Harry had flown into a steep ascent. The snitch hadn't moved yet, and Harry flattened himself upon his broom, his eyes fixated upon the motionless object before him.
"And Grey's spotted the snitch too," Brandon exclaimed hopefully, unconsciously crossing his fingers.
Harry saw Charlie out of the corner of his eye, and tightened his grip on his broom. He didn't like having to catch the snitch in an ascent, much preferring to enter a dive to reach the ball, it was always quicker. Several feet away from the snitch, a bludger went whirling past his ear. And then another past his arm. Harry reached out to grab the snitch, but it suddenly dropped, falling through the air at breakneck speed, its little wings fluttering like those of Hummingbirds.
"And the chase is on!" Lee yelled, as both Charlie and Harry flipped around in mid air to begin their dives. The wind brushed Harry's hair from his face and pushed his glasses against his face. The snitch veered to the right, Harry and Charlie close behind.
The students and professors in the stands were now standing, chants of "Potter" and chants of "Grey" filling the air. The snitch was picking up speed and even with the Firebolt, Harry was falling behind. Then, the snitch turned directions again, this time to the left, and the split second loss of momentum to facilitate the direction change was all Harry needed. Swinging to the side of his broom, he flung out his left hand and enclosed the golden ball in his palm.
"And Potter catches the snitch! 190-100, in favor of Hogwarts!" Lee called.
"Dam--" Brandon started to cry into the megaphone but Joe turned in his seat and waved at him, an unamused smile upon his face.
"Well, Brandon, that was a good game! The Salem Chasers were quite amazing, but still, Potter really is a whiz on a broom," Lee said.
"Yeah, can it, I just lost 15 galleons I don't have 15 galleons. Damn it!" Brandon moaned, lowering his head onto the table in disgust. "Stupid foreigners!"
Adrienne slowly stood up, raising her arms above her to stretch.
"Told you he was good, Professor, didn't I?" she asked, turning to look at Mia, but she had walked over to the far edge of the box to talk to Professor Glenn.
Adrienne slowly turned back around, making a face.
"No one wants to talk to me," she mumbled, and then shrugged. "Oh well, I bet Professor Glenn 50 galleons." Adrienne laughed, a small smile engulfing her face. "That'll buy all my school supplies until I graduate!"
She turned and made her way to the box's exit with intents on walking around to go talk to Professor Glenn, without Mia's hearing she wouldn't approve at all. No one saw Adrienne leave.
* * *
"We have to get down onto the field!" Ron shouted, grabbing Hermione's arm and pulling her into the quickly filling aisle. Hermione followed, her eyes wide and her head moving from left to right, searching for Adrienne.
Adrienne quickly ran down the back stairway of the stadium. It was always blocked off for student use, but she never followed those directions. She had made her way over to the announcer's box, but had found Joe to have already left. The echoing roar of the students in the stadium vibrated through the stairwell, making her slightly dizzy. Raising a hand to her head, Adrienne slowly sat down upon the fourth landing. She took a few deep breaths and then lowered her hand, the triangle on her palm catching her eye.
It had only been a month ago that Professor Glenn had asked to see her hand. Nothing had really come of that night except that she had lost her second wand and now had frequent splitting headaches. Professors Glenn and Hartel, not having any specialty in ancient arts, and unwilling to take her to any of the universities that did, for fear that Adrienne might end up as some experiment of theirs, had decided the best thing for Adrienne was to just know the truth. She had spent the night on their couch, as she did many nights, wearing one of Mia's old robes as a nightgown, her head rested in Mia's lap as Mia told her that she shouldn't be blaming herself for the attack on Salem. That whatever was bothering her, Mia assuming it was Adrienne knowing she was a Perfect, should be just dropped, not worried about any more. Adrienne just laid there, staring into the ceiling, letting her talk, wondering how the hell she was supposed to get her school work done without a wand.
Adrienne half expected them to go tell Professor Bell what had happened, but for some reason beyond her knowledge, Mia and Joe told her that no one should know about it. Adrienne was going to ask why Dumbledore didn't think she should be told she was Perfect, but again, when she tried to talk about it, her mouth wouldn't let the words come out. So, she just sat in silence, sometimes nodding to show she was listening.
Adrienne slowly stood back up and began to make her way back down the stairwell, the cheers and victory screams getting louder. Adrienne pushed the door open and slowly walked outside the stadium into the dark night. The game had gone on for two hours, and it seemed that dusk had almost come earlier than usual, or maybe it was just her. It was slightly chilly and Adrienne wrapped her robe tighter around herself and slowly walked through the dark grounds back toward the castle.
*
"Harry! Harry!"
Harry looked down from his position atop Fred's shoulders and waved at Hermione and Ron, who were pushing their way through the crowd.
"Let me down," Harry yelled to Fred, who was yelling to George, who was several feet away, chatting to the Salem Chaser, Lauren Granthum.
Fred rolled his eyes, obviously disappointed in Harry's lack of desire to party, and lowered him to the ground, hands raining down upon Harry's back in congratulations. Harry smiled at the multiple faces and gave a couple fives to various people and then pushed himself toward Hermione and Ron.
"I think I'm getting claustrophobic," Harry said, realizing that even though he spent all those years in the Dursley's cramped and spider infested closet, he couldn't stand being in such huge crowds.
He was always afraid he'd get trampled to death, like what had happened at a professional Quidditch game he read about from the 1960s, when a Seeker was stampeded by excited fans coming to congratulate him on his catching the snitch: The Seeker was given a nice funeral, and those who attended were extremely careful not to step atop his grave, figuring this was the least they could do, considering his unfortunate demise.
"You were wonderful!" Hermione exclaimed, kissing his cheek.
He smiled and kissed her back, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, linking arms with Ron, and pulling them through the growing crowd.
"Where are we going?" Hermione asked as she tried to dodge the people in her way.
When they had finally left the crowd Harry answered.
"To where I can breathe," he said, letting go of her and Ron. He stepped forward and turned to look at them. "So, how was the game?"
"Magnificent, as usual," Hermione replied, somewhat dully, and Harry smiled at her lack of enthusiasm.
"They have some pretty fast Chasers," Ron replied, his head glancing back behind him. "And did you see that? One of the beaters was riding a Firebolt."
"Yeah, I heard her talking; Adrienne loaned it to her," Harry replied, stepping up onto his tiptoes to scan the crowd. "We should go find her."
Hermione's shoulder's slumped. "In there? You have to be kidding me. There's at least two thousand people on the pitch. There has to be an easier way."
Ron took a step forward, his eyes squinting.
"What are you doing?" Harry asked, leaning over slightly to see into Ron's face.
Ron waved his hand in protest at Harry blocking his view. "I don't think we have to go back into that crowd. It seems Adrienne's loosing her skill at this disappearing game."
Harry turned and they all stared through the open entrance to the stadium, where in the moonlight they could see a lone figure in green robes walking toward the castle. It was the figure's tripping and sprawling face first into the ground that confirmed her identity, and in an instant the three friends had broke into a run.
Adrienne pulled herself miserably from the ground and brushed the grass from her robes.
"One of these days I'm going to get this walking concept down," she muttered dejectedly as she again made her way toward the castle.
She had only taken a few steps when suddenly her legs turned.
"What the – " she started, her face scrunched up in surprise.
Her legs were moving as if on their own, taking her away from the castle toward the forest.
"Oh no," she moaned, realizing that the only reason for this happening was that Voldemort was making her do it. "This really can't be good!"
Adrienne took a deep breath and then made to scream, hoping someone might hear her, but nothing came out.
"Where is she going?" Hermione asked in-between deep breaths, she wasn't in nearly as good as shape as Harry or Ron, and was lagging substantially behind them.
"Why's she going to the forest?" Ron asked, casting a confused glance at Harry.
"Adrienne! Adrienne, wait up!" Harry yelled, breaking into a faster gait.
Adrienne's heart leapt into her throat. Go away, she thought desperately, please don't follow me. Adrienne tried to yell something back, to tell them to go away, to bugger off, to do anything, anything but follow her. But the only thing that happened was that her legs broke into a run and she ripped over the ground, not running at a breakneck speed, but still faster than any of the three behind them.
"She's too fast!" Ron panted as he stopped running and crunched over, rubbing the stitch in his side and wincing in pain.
Hermione stopped next to him, and gasping for breath, put an arm on Ron's shoulder and looked out over the grounds as Harry continued his pursuit.
"Adrienne! Hold up!" Harry called.
Adrienne kept running, her mind screaming for her to stop, but nothing was listening to her, she couldn't even speak. The forest was only feet away now and she felt herself slowing down, almost as if giving Harry a chance to catch up. Adrienne slipped through the trees, her feet boldly stepping upon the fallen logs and scattered rocks. Even in the darkness she knew where she was heading: The clearing she had been in earlier. She could hear Harry behind her; she could hear his yells for her to stop. And then suddenly she did, too abruptly though, and she fell forward.
"Gosh! Why can't I walk normally?" she moaned, finally able to talk again and rolling over on the hard ground.
Her head was pounding, this time from where it had hit a log, and it took several seconds for her eyesight to focus. And when it did, she screamed.
"Shhh, are you all right?" Harry was standing over her, breathing hard, his face flushed.
"Ugh! No, I think I broke one of those head-bones my brains are going to start leaking out any moment," Adrienne muttered, reluctantly accepting Harry's hand up.
She raised a hand to her eyes, feeling suddenly dizzy.
"Why did you run?" Harry asked, his voice slightly shaky from the lack of breath.
Adrienne lowered her hand, still feeling as if the ground was rocking back and forth.
"I I couldn't stop," she said slowly, looking away.
Harry raised his eyebrows. "You couldn't stop?"
"Adrienne?"
Adrienne whipped around, finally realizing why she had ended up in the forest. Her hands clenched in fear, but when she realized who was speaking to her, her mouth dropped. It wasn't Voldemort, it was Mia.
"Professor Hartel?" Adrienne asked, a large smile breaking upon her face. She awkwardly ran forward, still quite offbalanced, and engulfed Mia in a big hug. "You have no idea how happy I am to see you!"
Mia took a step back, a confused expression on her face.
"Whatever is the matter?" she asked, staring down at Adrienne. Her eyes flicked back to Harry and smiled. "Nice to see you again Harry! Congratulations on your game! When Adrienne said that you were a good player, she never said that you were that good! I bet you'll have many offers to play professional Quidditch when you leave Hogwarts."
Harry smiled and walked forward, still trying to catch his breath.
"Do you have your wand with you, Professor?" Adrienne asked hastily, quickly looking around, expecting someone to pop out of the shadows any moment now. She had a bad feeling, a really bad feeling.
"Of course I do," Mia answered, smiling sympathetically at Adrienne as if Adrienne were losing her mind.
"Good, get it out. NOW!" Adrienne exclaimed. "Come on!"
"What is going on, Adrienne?" Mia asked as she reached into her robe and pulled out her wand.
Adrienne sighed in relief as Mia raised it to show her she had it, but then, as Mia brought it into better lighting, or as good of lighting one could get from the moon, Adrienne's face dropped. She took a step backward, her partly closed right hand rising to her chest.
"What's the matter, Adrienne? You look like you've seen a ghost!" Mia said, a worried expression crossing her face, but she didn't lower her wand.
Adrienne's eyes lingered on Mia's wand, the green irises fixated upon it that wasn't a sycamore wand. A cold chill rushed through her body, and Adrienne's eyes flickered to the foliage surrounding them. It was too dark to see anything beyond the first few feet of trees, but she didn't need to see anything to know people were there. Adrienne took another step backwards, her head turning to look at Harry, who, as she had been moving backward, had been moving forward to see what was bothering her. Suddenly, Adrienne felt someone grab her hand.
"Adrienne, where are you going? I asked you a question, or have you already forgotten our agreement? I ask you a question and you answer, or must I force you to do that too?" Mia was no longer smiling and was holding onto Adrienne's left wrist in a tight grip.
"What's going on?" Harry asked, staring at Mia and Adrienne in alarm.
"You're not Professor Hartel," Adrienne whispered, her voice caught in her throat.
The lady holding onto her smiled, a large cold smile that Adrienne had never seen upon Mia's face.
"Of course I'm not," she whispered.
"This would be a good time to run!" Adrienne screamed, yanking her arm forward and pulling the lady toward her. Adrienne brought her knee into the lady's stomach and elbowed her across the face.
"What's going on!" Harry yelled, reaching into his robes for his wand.
His eyes widened in fear as he realized they hadn't been allowed to take their wands with them.
"What part of run don't you understand?" Adrienne yelled as she finally broke free of the lady's grasp. "Go get help!"
But before Harry could tell Adrienne that he wasn't leaving her there alone, someone had stepped from the darkness, wand raised.
"Stupefy!"
Adrienne heard Harry fall to the ground beside her. She looked up at the hooded figure standing at the edge of the clearing, her heart pounding out of control. Adrienne heard the stunning spell, and she saw the flash of light, and then nothing.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Chapter 30: Disappearing Act
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
"Wait a second what exactly did you just say?"
The Cafeteria was suddenly silent and then, in a rush of motion, all heads turned to stare at Adrienne, who had jumped up from her chair in the back of the room.
Professor Bell cast a quick glance to her right at Mia, who had lowered her head into her hands and was rubbing her temples. Professor Bell cleared her throat.
As I just stated, Miss Miles, on the last weekend of May we will play host to an inter-school Quidditch match between Hogwarts and us," Bell replied, staring across the dimly lit room to where Adrienne had suddenly leaned back against the table behind her, Erica Lessie reaching and grabbing her arm to steady her.
"Um does that entail their traveling here?" Adrienne asked in an uncharacteristically meek voice.
Bell took a deep breath. "Yes, Miss Miles, that does seem to be the point of hosting their students here for the day to watch the match."
Adrienne paled slightly and bit her lip.
"Yes, well, this puts a damper on things," she murmured, glaring back at Professor Bell up at the teacher's table.
Becoming aware of Erica holding onto her arm, Adrienne wrenched it from her grasp.
"I'm quite capable of taking care of myself, thank you very much," she snapped, suddenly in a very bad mood.
Harry, coming to Salem where she was this couldn't be good. Adrienne straightened and turned with intentions of stomping out of the cafeteria.
"You'd think she'd be a little more thrilled to hear that her friends were coming here," Mia whispered behind her hand to Julia, who nodded her agreement.
Mia watched curiously as Adrienne stomped toward the door, heads following her procession. And then a loud gasp rang through the room as Adrienne caught her foot on the hem of her robe and fell to the ground in a heap.
"Miss Miles?" Mia called, jumping up and racing around the table, dodging the various chairs that pushed away from the table.
Erica Lessie leaned back in her chair and watched as the professors and several prefects huddled around the unconscious girl. "Yep, that's going to hurt."
* * *
"Hermione, do you have any idea what you just said?" Harry asked, reaching up and running a hand through his wind-mussed hair.
Hermione nodded and fell back onto his four-poster, holding the parchment above her. Ron miserably reached up and scratched his ear, quite bored.
"Of course I do, Harry, and do you think it makes any more sense to me?" Hermione asked, dropping the parchment to stare up at him and Ron. Hermione rolled her eyes in thought. "The way I see it, for some time you've been on about Professor Trelawney making a real prediction about Wormtail, am I right?" Harry reluctantly nodded. "So, as much as I hate to admit that perhaps there is some substance to the more zany predictions of hers, maybe this prediction is the one Professor Dumbledore told you about before."
"When before?" Ron interrupted, drawing his attention from his brainstorm on how to apologize to Adrienne.
"Back in our third year, when I told Professor Dumbledore about Trelawney's prediction, he said it made her second real prediction, remember?" Harry answered, blinking heavily, suddenly feeling very tired.
"Oh, back then," Ron muttered, turning his attention to what color roses he should buy her, and more importantly, where he would get the money.
"Ok," Harry sat down next to Hermione. "Let's say this prophecy is about Adrienne and I – "
"Wait a second!" Ron interrupted, striding forward. He grabbed the parchment from Hermione's hand, smiling victoriously. "Ah ha! Look at it! Would you take a look at that, eh?"
Hermione turned her head to stare up at him, her eyes narrowed. "Would you give that back to me I was looking at it," she ground out, irritated.
"Well, then you just weren't looking at it good enough, were you? Some detective you'd make," Ron replied smugly. "Look at the parchment! Tell me what you see!"
"We don't particularly have time to play games about a simple page from a book," Hermione snapped, sitting up and reaching for the parchment.
Ron held it above his head, smiling gleefully. "But that's it it's not from the book."
Hermione dropped her hand.
"Come off it, Ron. It is too from the book. You saw it fall out," Hermione reasoned.
Ron shook his head again and then turned to Harry, who looked pale. "What does this parchment look like to you? Does it look like a published material, Harry?"
Harry reached for the parchment and then raised it closer to his eyes, squinting slightly.
"It looks a little old not too old, but it's kind of yellowish," he replied, and then suddenly it clicked. "Where's that book, Hermione?"
Hermione looked from him to Ron and then pointed to Ron's trunk, where she had deposited the book upon entering the dormitory.
"But if it's old, it couldn't possibly have fallen from that book it's practically brand new, Madam Pince said she just got it in," Hermione mused as Harry walked over and heaved the book off the trunk.
"Right. It couldn't have come from the book. And look, this parchment doesn't have page numbers either, and the last time I looked at that monstrosity" Ron glared at the book Harry dropped onto the bed, "it had page numbers on the bottom."
"He's right, there are page numbers," Harry replied, staring at a random page.
Hermione turned and looked at it. "But then, it must have been placed in there, maybe as a page marker?" she wondered, taking the parchment back from Harry. She unfolded it and stared at it, her brown eyes squinting in the dim lighting.
"But no one's used it except you-"
"And Professor Wallace," Harry said suddenly, jerking his head up.
"What does Professor Wallace care about whether you and Adrienne are in a prophecy?" Ron asked.
"And if she knew of this, why not at least tell us, or at least you, Harry," Hermione whispered, shutting her eyes in confusion. "I think she knows something, something big."
"What, her?" Ron scoffed. "No way. She's completely daft."
"She was the last one to use the book," Hermione argued.
"Hold on."
Hermione and Ron turned to look at Harry, who was staring at the parchment still in Hermione's hand.
"If this thing is true then Adrienne is a Perfect," said Harry.
"That's what I'm afraid of," Hermione whispered.
A darkness like none other she had ever witnessed surrounded her, plunging through her, covering her, pulling at her. Adrienne couldn't see anything. She couldn't hear anything. All she could feel was the thick air against her skin, a slight wind rippling her robes. She reached her arms out blindly before her, feeling for something, anything. She took an awkward step forward, the sound of something crackling beneath her feet finally reaching her ears. She looked down, squinting in the absolute darkness, but she still couldn't make out anything.
"Child."
She turned to her left, holding her breath, trying to determine from which direction she was called.
"Child."
She heard it again, straight ahead of her. Adrienne paused, thinking what to do. The voice sounded oddly familiar, but she couldn't place the voice with a person. She took a deep breath and reached down for her wand, but found her pocket empty. She bit her lip in nervousness.
"Who's there?" she called out.
No one answered. Adrienne took a deep breath and started walking forward, suddenly aware of the clamminess of her robes, almost as if they were saturated in something. She didn't like the feeling. She continued walking forward, her mind trying to make sense of her sudden change in surroundings. She didn't know where she had been before and she didn't know where she was now. A slight tugging feeling began in her chest, and she stopped. She looked behind her, straight into the darkness, wondering if she should turn back.
"Anyone there?" she called, her voice echoing for several seconds afterwards.
"Child, it's almost time."
Adrienne turned back around, her eyes wide, and her heart rising in her throat.
"Who's there?" She took another step forward.
"It's almost time."
Adrienne took another deep breath and broke into a run, her hands out blindly in front of her, her eyes squinted, searching for light any light.
"Almost time, Adrienne, almost time."
Her foot slipped and she fell forward, her arms first hitting the ground and then the rest of her body. A searing pain soared through her as she lowered her head to the ground, a sudden nausea overtaking her.
"Adrienne?" Someone was touching her shoulder, rolling her over she could feel it.
"Adrienne?"
Adrienne snapped her eyes open and stared into the face above her. Professor Glenn was kneeling at her side, his face bent close to hers, a worried expression upon his face.
"Adrienne, are you all right?" he asked in a soft voice, reaching down and brushing her hair from her eyes.
Adrienne blinked several times, trying to remember what had happened. Oh yeah, I fell, she thought miserably. She took a deep breath, trying to force her headache to subside.
"Yeah, I'm fine," she mumbled, looking away, her face reddening in embarrassment at the entire cafeteria standing up to get a good look at her. "Are we just going to stand and gawk or help me up?"
Adrienne raised her hands in front of her and Professor Glenn stood up with a slight groan, and then reached down to pull her up.
Adrienne shook her head slightly once she had resumed standing and then looked around the room.
"All right, show's over," she said wearily, waving sarcastically at a nearby table. "We can all return to our dinner now." Professor Glenn was still standing next to her, his hands on her shoulders. She shrugged them off, irritated. "I'm fine, thanks."
"You most definitely are not!" Mia exclaimed as Adrienne tried to take a step forward and had to check her balance. "Straight to the nurse for you young lady," she exclaimed as she put an arm around Adrienne's waist and steered her toward the door. After sending a 'we-have-it-under-control' glance to Professor Bell, Joe followed after.
"Not the nurse, Professor Hartel! Please not the nurse! She hates me!" Adrienne mumbled half-heartedly once the doors had shut.
"You just say that because she thinks you're a liability," Joe replied, drawing his wand, a protectionistic gleam in his eye.
Adrienne tried to glare at him, but that hurt her head.
"Don't you dare think about conjuring up a stretcher," she hissed.
"And why not? Look at you, you can barely walk!" Joe replied.
Adrienne shut her eyes.
"Please don't! I don't need to go to the nurse, I don't need you to conjure a stretcher, I don't need your help!" she moaned, trying to push away Mia, who just tightened her grip around her in response.
"The hell you don't! Look at you, you can barely walk," Mia snapped, pulling Adrienne into a long corridor.
Adrienne turned her head quickly from side to side.
"Wait this isn't the way to the nurse's," she said softly.
Mia laughed. "Like I'd go visit that old broad unless it was a life-or-death emergency, and even then, I'd take my chances and hope that death doesn't win," she said in a dark tone.
Adrienne turned to look at Joe, who didn't seem thrilled at her not seeing the nurse, but he didn't say anything. Adrienne, following Joe's silent approach, just let them lead her down the corridor, wondering where they were going if they weren't going to the nurses'. It took Adrienne a couple seconds longer than usual to finally realize what corridor they were in. It was the sight of a large mirror at the end that finally let her breathe a sigh of relief. The mirror had a carved silver frame that looked as if it had just been shined. Adrienne had always liked this mirror, not just because it was pretty, but it reminded her of Through the Looking Glass. Joe raised his wand and touched the very center of the mirror with the tip. The mirror began to ripple, first, small ripples originating in the center, and then, increasing in diameter as they moved to the very end of the frame.
Joe took a step towards it, pocketing his wand, and the next second he was gone. Adrienne followed, Mia pushing her from behind. The soft feel of the illusion washed over her and suddenly Adrienne was in another room.
Mia and Joe's living quarter was possibly Adrienne's favorite place to visit in the castle, not because it was exciting or mysterious, but because it was a comfortable and homey place to be. It was only two rooms and a bathroom, and Mia always complained that it was a little cramped. Adrienne, though, thought it was perfect.
The mirror entrance led into the sitting room, which wasn't ornately decorated. A cream sofa and armchair sat in the middle, a small coffee table separating them. There were several piles of ungraded papers sitting atop it. The walls were covered with various shelves and bookcases, displaying Joe's impressive library and Mia's various dueling medals and trophies. Upon one wall, above a beautiful stone fireplace, were several framed newspaper articles discussing Mia's dueling titles. Among these clippings was also the clipping announcing Adrienne's win at the International Underage Dueling Championship the previous summer. Opposite the mirror entrance was the door that led into their bedroom.
Adrienne didn't look around as they entered, nor did she say anything as Mia led her to the sofa and instructed her to sit down. All Adrienne was thinking about now was the implications of Hermione, Ron, and Harry coming to Salem. That just wouldn't do, she thought. It was a bad idea all together and extremely unsafe. If Voldemort found out
"Ok Adrienne," Mia started as she and Joe sat down on either side of her.
Adrienne leaned back into the sofa and titled her neck to stare up at the ceiling, her head still throbbing.
"What is going on?" Mia whispered, sitting so she could look at Adrienne.
"Yes, Adri, something's bothering you," Joe said in a soft voice. "Tell us about it."
Adrienne blinked several times, trying to keep herself from crying.
"I can't tell you," she finally replied in an unsteady voice, not looking at either one of them.
Mia sighed and stared at Joe with heavy eyes.
"Adrienne, you know you can tell us anything, right?" Mia asked in a soothing voice.
Adrienne shook her head, not knowing what to say. If she could just tell them something, anything, then they could at least know what was going on, even if they couldn't help her.
"Does it have something to do with Harry?" Joe suggested. "Did you two get in a fight?"
Adrienne bit her lip.
"We may have," she replied, still staring up at the ceiling.
"But people always fight, it's part of our nature. Just look at me and Joe," Mia said, reaching over and putting a hand on Adrienne's shoulder.
"Joe and I," Joe corrected without turning his gaze from Adrienne.
Mia glared at him but didn't reply.
"Ok, so you had a fight. What happened?" she prompted.
"We stopped talking."
"A little more information might be helpful," Mia said, slightly flustered, "like perhaps what this fight was over."
Adrienne didn't answer right away. She was half-expecting Voldemort to jump in anytime now, but he must have been satisfied that his curse would keep her from saying anything incriminating. Adrienne opened her mouth to say 'because I told him I'm a Perfect,' but that wasn't what came out.
"Things?" Joe exclaimed, losing his patience. "You're no longer talking to your brother because you fought about things? Adrienne, tell us the truth!"
Adrienne raised a hand to her head and rubbed her eyes in frustration.
"I can't!" she growled.
"Damn it, Adrienne! I'm tired of this!" Joe shouted, jumping up and striding across the room.
"Joe!" Mia warned, glaring at him. "You're not helping anything."
"And neither are you!" Joe shot back, crossing his arms and staring into the dying embers of the fireplace. "Doesn't this bother you, Mia, her sudden fascination with withholding information from us?" he spat.
Mia pouted slightly. "Of course it does, but we're not going to help her by yelling," she said softly.
"How can we help her if she won't let us!" he snapped.
"I'm still in the room," Adrienne miserably interrupted, her head beginning to pound more with his yelling.
"We know, hon," Mia said, turning back to her. "How's your head?"
Adrienne rolled her eyes.
"It hurts," she said darkly, "how do you think it feels?"
"You know what, I don't care what Dumbledore says!" Joe exclaimed apropos of nothing, flinging himself around to stare wide-eyed at Mia, who just groaned and collapsed onto the sofa, her head falling back to join Adrienne in staring at the ceiling.
"Joe, we've discussed this," Mia started.
"And we shouldn't have listened to that old codger," Joe exclaimed.
"I call him Bumble-and-Snore," Adrienne muttered, feeling suddenly ornery.
"Do not insult him!" Joe exclaimed, his face reddening. "He's your elder and you're to respect him. Have we taught you nothing about respect?"
Adrienne looked away from the ceiling and stared at him, her vision still slightly blurry. "Well, if you mean by teaching through example, I may remind you that you just called him an old codger," she said icily.
Mia tried to suppress a laugh.
"That's beside the point!" Joe said waving Adrienne's statement aside. "Mia, we can't expect her to come clean with us if we don't come clean with her."
Mia stopped laughing and sat up bolt, shaking her head, her eyes wide.
"This is not the time, nor the place for this conversation, Joe," she hissed, her eyes flickering to Adrienne, who was now staring at Joe with interest.
Joe didn't seem to hear Mia because he strode forward and kicked the coffee table to the side, sending the various papers flying everywhere as it scraped across the floor.
"Joe, don't!" Mia shouted, jumping up as Joe reached down, grabbed Adrienne's left arm and yanked her to a standing position.
"That hurt!" Adrienne whined as she tried to pull her arm form his grasp, but Joe held fast.
"Joe, this isn't a good idea," Mia whispered.
Joe stared at his wife for a second, his eyes narrowed in insubordination, warning her to keep her mouth shut. Mia slapped her forehead in anger and collapsed back onto the sofa, raising her other hand to her face.
"Professor Glenn, you're hurting me," Adrienne said in a timid voice.
Joe let go of her arm and reached for her right wrist, pulling it toward him.
"You see this, Adrienne?" he asked as he turned her hand palm up, holding her fingers open with his other hand. Adrienne stared at the triangle shining dully in the flickering firelight.
"I see it," she muttered, turning to look at him.
Mia peaked through a crack between her fingers and watched in apprehension. Joe dropped Adrienne's hand.
"Give me your wand," he ordered.
"Why?" groaned Adrienne, feeling slightly dizzy. All she wanted was to lie down and sleep her headache away.
"This won't be a negotiation," he replied in a dark tone, his eyes narrowing in frustration.
Adrienne rolled her eyes and reached into her pocket. Her fingertips closed upon the long piece of wood and she pulled it out.
"What's so important about my wand?" she asked wearily, taking a small step away from him.
"Can I see it?" he asked without answering her question.
Adrienne held her wand out to him.
"Just don't break it, all right? I don't want to have to go buy a third wand," she muttered, watching him curiously as he raised it before him, scrutinizing it.
"You sure this is what you want to do?" Mia asked, finally lowering her hands.
"Let me see your hand," Joe said to Adrienne.
Adrienne raised her left hand, even though she knew that wasn't what he meant. Joe glared at her.
"Your other hand, Adrienne."
"Picky, picky," she mumbled as she raised her right hand before him, the palm facing up.
Her eyes lingered on the triangle for a second before she turned them back to Joe. In the firelight his face looked much older than his twenty-eight years. Behind his frown and furrowed brow, Adrienne could tell he was quickly losing his nerve.
"Joe, luv, Dumbledore knows what he's doing, trust him," Mia begged.
Joe shook his head.
"Adrienne, hold your wand, like you're going to cast a spell," he ordered in a hoarse voice.
"This is your big anti-Dumbledore campaign?" she asked in disbelief, but she obediently grabbed her wand, holding it with her fingertips.
"Look at this, you're the only one I've ever seen hold their wand at the very end like that. You didn't do that before you left for Hogwarts" he said, reaching forward and pushing the wand further into her hand, so its end touched the middle of her palm.
Suddenly, just as when she had first held her wand when Mr. Ollivander gave it to her, it started to glow. Adrienne looked up at Joe, waiting for his order for her to stop whatever she was doing, but it never came. The light grew brighter, and Mia slowly stood up from her seat, raised a hand to shield her eyes, and blindly walked forward until she was standing next to Adrienne. Adrienne's hand started to burn slightly and she bit her lip in pain, shutting her eyes to try to block out the blinding white light. And then, the light disappeared and the burning stopped. Adrienne opened her eyes in surprise, having to blink rapidly to again adjust to the dim lighting.
"Oh dear," Mia murmured, raising a hand to her mouth.
Adrienne looked down at her hand and dropped her jaw in surprise: Her wand was no longer there; she was holding onto thin air. Adrienne slowly opened her hand and raised it to her face, realizing that there was a fine layer of ash on some of her fingers.
"Where's my wand?" she asked angrily, forgetting all about her headache.
"This would have happened before if you hadn't changed your grip to that crazy, weak grip you've been using," Mia whispered.
"What would have happened? What do you mean, my wand was just supposed to go and disintegrate – " but Adrienne suddenly stopped, remembering what Hermione had told her: Perfects couldn't use wands.
Adrienne swallowed nervously and stared up at Joe, who looked slightly shocked. They stood in silence for a few minutes, the only sound filling their ears was the crackling of the fire. And then, right as Adrienne was going to ask where Joe was going with this wand thing, he finally spoke.
"The art of Perfection, Adrienne it doesn't require the use of a wand," he whispered.
* * *
"Do you think she'll be in her office?" Hermione asked as she, Harry, and Ron half walked, half ran, through the castle.
"Where else would she be?" Ron asked irritably.
This wasn't exactly how he wanted to spend his Saturday night tracking down crazy professors.
"Well, there's the staff room, her private quarters, another professor's office, the Great Hall, the bathroom," began Hermione as they ascended the north-wing staircase.
"We get the picture," Ron interrupted.
"Do you have a plan, Hermione?" Harry asked, turning to look at her.
"No," she replied, looking away.
"All right, I got it. We break in, grab her, and threaten her with the Cruciatus Curse if she doesn't talk," Ron suggested, a strange manic glint in his eyes.
Harry took a step away from him, a surprised expression on his face.
"Yeah, and end up in Azkaban for the rest of our lives that'll really do a lot of good," he replied sardonically.
Harry had been in the defense office every year since his second year. The styles of each professor had been drastically different, and now he wondered exactly what kind of decorator Professor Wallace was. The door to her office was shut, a dark blind pulled over the door's window.
"Maybe she's asleep?" Ron suggested, bending down and trying to see through the crack between the drape and the sill of the window.
"Or maybe she just likes her privacy," Hermione said as she reached up and knocked.
"Do I have visitors? My, my, how fun!" came Professor Wallace's familiar voice.
The door swung open to reveal the tall Defense mistress, wearing a bright yellow traveling cloak.
"Do come in," she said, smiling cheerfully as she stepped back from the door to allow their entrance.
Harry raised his eyebrows at Hermione as he motioned for her to go before him. Hermione smiled at Wallace and walked into the office.
"Colorful," Ron drawled.
The four walls of the room were each painted a different color: bright purple, magenta, jade, and an aqua blue. Harry slowly raised his head up the far wall until he was looking at the ceiling, which was painted black.
"Make yourselves comfortable!" Wallace exclaimed, waving her hand before her, her inch-long silver nails glinting in the torchlight, which, surprising enough, had been charmed to glow a light blue color, making Harry feel like he was underwater.
Harry turned his attention from the walls and looked around the room, looking for a place to sit.
"Um, yes, where exactly should we sit?" he asked, turning to look at Professor Wallace, who had situated herself atop her desk, which looked suspiciously like a door, painted red, propped atop two bright green barrels with a hazardous waste sign painted on each.
"Oh, I've forgotten chairs have I? You're my first visitors to my office this entire year never had the use until now," she said nonchalantly, picking her wand up from her desk and flicking it at the middle of the room. Three beanbag chairs appeared from thin air and flopped down upon the ground with an 'umpf.'
Harry took a deep breath and watched with interest as Ron hung his head low to the ground to get a better look at them. And then, deciding to take the plunge, Ron turned around and fell into one, smiling.
"What are these?" he asked, an excited smile engulfing his face.
"Beanbag chairs," Hermione said flatly, turning to look at Professor Wallace, who had turned her attention to filing her nails. "Yes, I think I'll stand," Hermione said in a shocked voice.
"Me too," agreed Harry.
"To each their own," Wallace shrugged, looking up at them, smiling serenely. "And to what do I owe this pleasure?"
Wallace jumped off her desk and straightened her traveling cloak. Hermione pursed her lips to keep from laughing upon realizing what Wallace was wearing. She was wearing a long, red sarong, which was placed low on her hips, exposing a belly ring. She had on a tight green beaded shirt. And over this was her yellow traveling cloak.
"So, you like Muggle clothing?" Hermione couldn't restrain herself from asking.
Wallace looked up at her. "Gotta I'm a Muggle-born," she answered.
"We had a question for you," Harry interrupted, finally regaining his composure but still battling the mad urge to burst into laughter.
"Shoot," Wallace said, putting her file down and looking at them with an attentive face.
"That book you borrowed, I was looking through it earlier today," Hermione began, reaching into her robe. She pulled out the folded parchment. "This fell out of it."
She held it out to Professor Wallace, who took curiously and began to unfold it.
"Where do you get these chairs?" Ron asked, throwing his feet out before him and lounging with a relaxed expression.
Harry looked back at him and smirked.
"A Muggle store," he instructed.
"They're dangerous for young children; a suffocation possibility," chastised Hermione.
Ron rolled his eyes.
"Don't think we have to worry about young children at my house wait, do you know something I don't know?" his eyes were wide and he had paled substantially.
Hermione turned back to look at him, trying not to laugh. "No, sorry to disappoint you, Ron."
Ron breathed a sigh of relief.
"That goodness! Seven are enough," he exhaled.
Hermione and Harry turned back around to look at Professor Wallace, who hadn't even looked at the parchment yet and was instead staring at Ron with an entertained face. Hermione cleared her throat.
"Oh, yes, sorry about that I have the worst attention span!" she exclaimed, looking back down at the parchment.
Her face suddenly dropped its happy-go-lucky expression. Wallace looked up, her face now impassive.
"Where did you get this?" she asked shortly.
"It was in the book," Harry replied. "Hermione said you were the last one to use it."
Professor Wallace stood up abruptly and refolded it.
"Well, it isn't mine. I have no idea what it means," she said, her voice clipped and strained.
Hermione and Harry glanced at each other and then turned to watch her stride across her office to an open window.
"Well, it must have been you. You were the last one to look at it," Hermione argued.
Professor Wallace whipped around, her purple eyes wide. She raised the parchment before her.
"This?" she whispered softly, her lip muscles twitching, as if she were battling with what to say, "was not meant for your eyes."
"Then it is true?" Harry exclaimed, striding forward, his green eyes flaming. "Why weren't we told!"
"And what would that serve, to tell you that there is a prophecy about you. There is no purpose in that. The knowledge of this prophecy would not aid you in the least," she said softly.
"But that means Adrienne is a Perfect," Harry reasoned.
Wallace laughed. "Why do you think she is? What if it's you?"
"But I'm not," he said slowly, "and, even if I was, I would have wanted to know. I would have wanted to know if my sister is one too."
Wallace shook her head and pocketed the piece of paper. "She already knows, I'm sure of it. Why tell her?"
"Why not?" Ron argued, standing up from his chair, his face slightly red. "She's my girlfriend, you should have told her." He said this as if her being his girlfriend made all the difference.
"It makes it harder for her if she knows that we know," Wallace explained.
"Why? I'd think it would make it easier, let her know she isn't alone," Hermione snapped, narrowing her eyes in protest.
"But she is alone, Miss Granger, just as much as Potter is alone in his dealing with his past. No one can relate to what he's experienced. He can't really turn to anyone, can you, Harry?"
Harry blushed and looked away. But she was right. He tried to talk very little about how he felt about his parents' death, Wormtail's betrayal, what had happened that night in the cemetery. He couldn't put into words all his feelings and had just decided to keep them inside.
"Perfects are not highly thought of today, are they? Sure, theoretically it'd be great to have all the power they have, theoretically, that is. In actuality, Adrienne will never really use her powers, and partly because there is no one to teach her, partly because, well she already knows the implication of her abilities on her separation from the Dark Arts – "
"Who's explained this all to her? You? Dumbledore?" Harry asked, suddenly quite angry. She was acting as if teenagers frequently popped up with weird magical quirks.
"No she's been explained through, er, other means," Wallace stuttered.
She nervously checked the ends of her cloak arms, making Harry think that she was making sure they were low enough, but why?
"But she is a Perfect?" Harry clarified.
Wallace nodded. "Yes, Adrienne the Perfect nice ring, don't you think?"
"NICE RING!?" Ron exclaimed, crossing his arms. "That's all you have to say nice ring!"
Professor Wallace scowled and turned to look at Harry. "Harry, has Dumbledore ever led you wrong before?"
Harry didn't respond. Dumbledore had never done anything to lose Harry's trust, but why not tell them about the prophecy?
"He doesn't tell you everything because there are times for every revelation. And it wouldn't do to have you know about Adrienne being a Perfect from the beginning. They weren't even sure right away, they weren't even sure she was your sister at first. There have been instances of people looking almost identical even when they aren't related. He has his reasons for not explaining everything, trust him."
Hermione shook her head. "But this has been bothering Adrienne. It must be horrible for her to think first that those attacks at Salem happened because of her, and now to think that she could possibly be known as an outcast just because she can do magic differently. She's afraid this is torture to her."
Professor Wallace looked straight past Hermione and stared into Harry's eyes. "What doesn't kill her makes her stronger."
"Oh, let's make Adrienne stronger! Now that sounds like a grand idea! She's already been expelled for showing her strength you now want to make her stronger?" Ron exclaimed. "My poor mind"
"No! You're missing the point! She's weak. Admit it! She's weak. And as long as she's weak, she's a threat to us all." Wallace said, her voice low, her hands on her hips. There's a difference between you and her, Harry, a big difference. You're strong, stronger than she will ever be. And as a Perfect or not, she's no use to us if she is weak willed. What doesn't kill her makes her stronger."
"So you're torturing her?" Hermione asked, flabbergasted.
"Everything will be explained," Wallace replied, walking toward the door.
"Did you plant that parchment, to let us figure it out? That was a waste of time, you could have just told us," Ron said, "Stupid idea, really."
Wallace turned around, her hand on the doorknob. "No, I didn't plant it I was using it as a page-marker. Kind of forgot I was using it, didn't I?" she said sardonically. "Adrienne is fine, don't worry about her."
* * *
"Adrienne, it's after midnight!" The hangings on Adrienne's left suddenly were flung to the side and a shadowy face appeared in its place. "There's my wand! I was wondering what happened to it!"
Adrienne looked sheepishly down at the oak wand she was holding in her teeth, lit so she could read. It wasn't her fault she no longer had a wand to call her own, it was Professor Glenn's and his stupid Perfect test idea. Professors Glenn and Hartel had gone on that night to tell her that Dumbledore had informed them about her being a Perfect when they had visited Hogwarts, but made them promise not to tell her, saying she'd find out when she was ready. Obviously Joe decided that Dumbledore didn't know what he was talking about, and had taken it upon himself to inform her about her hidden abilities. Adrienne played along, letting them think she had no idea she was a Perfect, because, she rationalized, she couldn't really discuss being a Perfect with them without Voldemort removing the curse, or allowing her to suddenly discuss all her problems. So, she had spent the first three weeks of May explaining away her lack of wand by saying she lost it, and sharing one with Erica whenever she needed to do magic. This lack of a wand was a rather humbling experience in her mind. She really had been used to using magic to clean up messes, do her hair, lift heavy objects, and now she could only use magic to do those things when Erica wasn't using her wand, or like tonight, when Erica was asleep.
Adrienne pulled Erica's wand from her mouth and embarrassedly wiped it off on her pajamas.
"Sorry about that," Adrienne mumbled, handing the lit wand back to her friend.
Erica climbed onto the bed and settled herself cross-legged at the foot, letting the hangings fall closed around them.
"No big deal," Erica replied, but Adrienne noticed she was holding her wand at its middle and not at the end as was usual. "Question though, when do you plan on getting a new wand?" Erica asked.
Adrienne closed the book and placed her hands atop it to cover the title.
"Maramy's Wands never came back to the Gallows so the closest wand store is in Georgia. Georgia's a bit further away from the Gallows. I'll have to wait until summer break," Adrienne replied.
"But didn't some guy come to you at Hogwarts to sell you another wand?" Erica asked, scooting forward so there'd be more light for each of them. "Oh, I heard Professors Glenn and Hartel talking about that they said he was kind of creepy," Erica said, answering Adrienne's question before she could ask it.
"Yeah, but he lives in England; it'd be quite a trip, Apparating all the way here just to sell me a measly wand," she replied. "I'll just have to wait."
Erica nodded and turned her attention to the book sitting in Adrienne's lap. "So 'Miss I-Hate-Reading' is sacrificing her beauty sleep to read? What's the title?"
Adrienne looked down at her book and then hesitantly picked it up and showed it to Erica.
"Complete Control: The Imperious Curse hmm, sounds interesting," Erica replied sarcastically.
"Yeah, well, you remember how bad I was at fighting it last year. I thought I'd try and improve by reading about it," Adrienne lied, shrugging her shoulders. "It's actually kind of interesting."
"Wait, it has a Hogwarts library tag on the front," Erica noted, she began to laugh. "What, so attached to it that you had to steal it?"
Adrienne glared at her. "I forgot to turn it back it."
"Well, you can send it back with one of the Hogwarts kids when they come next week."
Adrienne's smile fell. She did not want them coming to Salem, especially not Harry, it wasn't safe she wasn't safe.
"Yeah, I could do that," Adrienne agreed.
"You know what I think, Adri?" Erica whispered, leaning forward.
Adrienne raised her eyebrows. "What?"
"We're going to win, definitely," Erica smiled, racing her shoulders in excitement. "I mean, hate to brag but we're good."
"But the Hogwarts team will be good too," Adrienne replied, suddenly feeling very defensive of Hogwarts.
Erica shook her head. "But I heard they had to take players from their House teams that their team for next week has only been practicing together for less than a month we have it in the bag."
Adrienne rolled her eyes. "But all the players are really good let's see, the last letter I got from my friends there"
She had actually written them back this time. It had been a group letter from Harry, Hermione, and Ron, saying that they needed to talk to her, and that Madam Pince wanted her book back. Adrienne had told them that she needed to talk to them too, but in reality she was planning on conveniently sneaking off to the Gallows that weekend, so not to have to see them.
"The Beaters are from the House I was in, Gryffindor Fred and George Weasley. The Keeper is the Hufflepuff Keeper, Jonas Hunter; he was really good, the best Keeper in the entire school. There's Montegue and Volstechy from Slytherin, and Garland from Ravenclaw: They're the Chasers. And then the Seeker, that's Harry Potter and he's-"
"Oh swoon!" Erica exclaimed, raising a hand to her forehead. "I simply love Harry Potter; he can be my prince in shining armor any day."
Adrienne raised a hand to try to muffle her laughter.
"Come on, Adrienne, don't tell me that when you were at Hogwarts you weren't secretly wishing he was seeing you," Erica whispered, grinning widely.
Adrienne laughed harder.
"I can safely say, Erica, that I never ever wished that, hoped that, or kept my fingers crossed that that would happen. Really, I might be sick," Adrienne whined.
"Adrienne Lily Miles! You are such a liar! Come on, if he looks as cute as he does in those articles from last year, how could you not think that?" Erica exclaimed.
"Believe me, I have a perfectly good reason for not thinking that and I'm not about to explain. And, Erica, I wouldn't think Hogwarts to be a pushover; be careful, or they'll wipe the pitch with you."
"Can I ride your Firebolt?" Erica asked suddenly, and then her face darkened. "Or, do you not feel a loyalty to us anymore? Think me riding it would give Salem an unfair advantage?"
Adrienne narrowed her eyes. "You don't honestly think that, do you?"
"Well, Adrienne, I don't know you're boyfriend does go to that school. And you did look pretty bummed to be back," Erica said, looking away, suddenly wishing she hadn't said anything.
"Give me a break, Erica I'm going to be neutral at the game."
Erica didn't look thrilled about this either. "Well, as long as you're not cheering for them. But I'm tired. See you tomorrow. Nox."
The light died away and Adrienne could feel Erica get off the bed and hear the hangings swing back into their place.
Adrienne pulled her knees to her chest and put her head atop them.
"Personally I got 50 galleons on Hogwarts with Professor Glenn, so they better win," she whispered into the dark.
* * *
"Who's missing?"
Lucius took a step forward from his place in line and gazed down the long row of Death Eaters. He shrugged his shoulders and stepped back into place, deciding that it can be Voldemort's lucky job to try and identify everyone without seeing their faces.
"I'm counting 76 or am I counting wrong?" Voldemort asked in a low voice, tapping his fingers irritably on the arm of his chair. "WHO IS MISSING!"
"Severus couldn't escape tonight – seems there was an accident in the lab earlier today. I think he's covered in boils," Lucius said boldly.
"I've already accounted for him, but someone else is missing."
There was a patter of feet and then suddenly a figure appeared in the doorway. Voldemort turned in his chair, his eyes blazing angrily.
"You are late! You are not late when I call you!" he hissed, standing up, his head bent low.
"Yes, well, had a little complication," said a feminine voice. W bowed slightly and took a step forward. "But Master, I have interesting news about the Potter boy."
Voldemort didn't seem impressed by this. He slowly reached into his robes and withdrew his wand, staring at her with a face of mock interest.
"Oh, really. And that's why you were late? Because you think you found something about him that I don't already know?"
"I thought, I thought it" W stuttered, obviously surprised that her piece of information didn't intrigue him at all.
"You thought? Did I say you could think? Did I say you could speak before me? Did I or did I not order your attendance, and you are late?" he drawled.
Some Death Eaters shifted uncomfortably, others smiled under their masks, wondering if her death would be an entertaining one. Voldemort took another step closer to her, expecting her to take a step away or at least start apologizing profusely, even maybe beg for her life. W, however, didn't do any of this. She crossed her arms before her and took a step toward him.
"Potter knows about Adrienne being a Perfect wasn't his not knowing essential for her to cooperate?" she asked boldly.
Voldemort stopped walking, clearly surprised, and then he laughed.
"Does she know he knows? Besides, it doesn't matter. She'll do whatever I tell her to it doesn't matter," he said quietly. "So really, that wasn't an excuse for being late, was it?"
This time W took a step backwards, uncrossing her arms, clearly having lost her nerve.
"But you meant well, didn't you? You had the good of the cause in mind, didn't you?" he asked, taking another step closer to her. "I applaud that." He pocketed his wand and then, before W could even take another breath, had hit her around the face. She spun around, completely unprepared for it.
"You'll show more respect next time, won't you?" he growled.
W straightened up, raising a hand to her face.
"I'm sorry, My Lord," she muttered.
"Louder," he demanded.
"I'm sorry, My Lord!" she repeated.
"Go back to your place in line, now!"
W turned and walked purposefully toward the end of the line.
"Now that we're all here," Voldemort began, his red eyes falling viciously on W, "this weekend, Harry Potter will be at Salem, where his sister is. Lucius, I assume you've gained possession of all the ingredients necessary?"
"Yes, Master. The potion will be ready in time for the game," Lucius replied.
"Excellent." Voldemort looked around at his followers, a thin, lipless smile engulfing his face. "This Saturday, my loyal Death Eaters, once again the world will face our wrath. Once again we will obtain our rightful rule. The world will cower before us, just like before."
Several minutes later, W began to file out of the chamber along with the Death Eaters ahead of her. She had almost reached the chamber's door when someone grabbed her shoulder and spun her around.
"Just one more thing."
Voldemort was standing behind her, his face expressionless, his eyes cold.
"Yes Master?" W asked, wondering if her voice was shaking at all, or if it was just her imagination.
Voldemort pulled her closer, his fingers digging into her collarbone.
"Perhaps you know too much about the plan?" he asked coolly, his eyes boring into hers.
"Perhaps I should know more than I do," she replied. "Obviously I seem to be the least informed of all here."
"You and Snape," Voldemort corrected, still staring at her contemplatively.
"You don't seem to trust him," she responded, reaching up and prying his hand from her shoulder. "Why?"
"For the same reason I don't trust you. You work for Dumbledore," Voldemort hissed, taking a step away from her.
"And your point being?" she pressed, smirking behind her mask.
"My point being, Wallace, that the less you know, the less of a liability you are."
Voldemort reached into his robes and pulled out his wand. Professor Lindsay Wallace didn't have any time to react, and her eyes widened in fear, waiting for her death to come but it didn't.
"Obliviate," Voldemort snapped, and a white jet of light burst from his wand, hitting her square between the eyes. Professor Wallace took a step backwards, an awkward hand flying to her head in pain.
"We were discussing our annual Death Eater banquet you fell while demonstrating how to dance," Voldemort said dully as she looked at him through dazed eyes. "You should return to Hogwarts now, they might miss you soon."
"Yes, My Lord," she whispered, turned, and walked from the room. "Since when do we have Death Eater banquets?" she murmured.
* * *
"We're supposed to be in lines!" Hermione called out, her irritated voice getting lost in the clamor of voices projecting through the corridors.
"Don't think anyone heard you, Hermione," Ron said with satisfaction, a large smile plastered upon his face.
"And what are you so happy about?" Hermione asked begrudgingly.
Even though her gleaming Prefect badge was sitting upon her chest, not one of the Gryffindors were listening to her directions for them to line up as McGonagall had instructed the day before.
"Oh, just thinking about what I'm going to do once I get to Salem," he said dreamily.
"You're going to sit in the stands and cheer for Hogwarts and yell me encouragement," Harry said quietly.
He was walking next to Ron, his Firebolt held close to his body to prevent it from being knocked by the surrounding students.
"Of course that," Ron said, "but more importantly, talk to Adrienne."
"Please! We all are to be lined up before exiting the castle!" Hermione yelled, her hands cupped at her mouth, hoping to project her voice.
Not one person turned around or made any action to try to follow her order. She narrowed her eyes.
"Well, you better hope she doesn't have to sit with her Professors, especially not that Glenn guy, he has it out for you," she said to Ron through pursed lips. Then, her hands on her hips, she strode away.
Ron groaned. "I forgot all about him!" he whined. "Now what do I do?"
"Smile pleasantly at him and portray yourself as a gentleman. He may feel less lousy about cursing you if you come off as a well-bred young man," Harry suggested, walking upon his tiptoes and trying not to laugh as Hermione had finally reached the front of the Gryffindor students, where Dennis Creevey was hopping up and down excitedly and yelling something at Fred and George, who both had very mischievous expressions upon their faces.
"This is a line!" Hermione yelled as she grabbed Dennis and Fred by the collars and pulled them into a line behind George. No one seemed to respond to her demonstration and kept chatting wildly, trying to push past her.
Hermione scowled. "If you don't fall into line, you get to sit with me at the game!"
That did it. The students instantly fell silent and all heads turned to look at her as she continued to hold Fred and Dennis into place behind George. And then, there was a mad rush to fall into line, several first years sending horrified looks at Hermione, whose eyes were wide in anger and her hair hanging down in her face from her attempt to pull Fred, who had put up quite the fight. Satisfied with the line, she nodded, raised an eyebrow to warn everyone to stay in their place, and then walked to the back, where Ron and Harry were bringing up the rear.
"A little touchy today?" Ron asked as she walked by, her hands tangled in her hair, trying to pull it back out of her face.
"She's nervous," Harry corrected, trying not to smile.
"I most definitely am not!" Hermione exclaimed as they entered the Entrance Hall.
"You are too," he replied, turning to look at her so he wouldn't have to see Cho as they walked past the Ravenclaws, who were waiting for their turn to file out of the castle.
"What, afraid someone at Salem might know more than you?" Ron asked innocently.
Hermione promptly stomped on his foot in reply.
"You don't have to get violent about it," he mumbled through gritted teeth.
"I don't see what you're nervous about you're not the one playing," Harry remarked as they neared the large Entrance Doors.
"No, I'm just the one who declared Adrienne to be a pathological liar," Hermione said briskly. "I feel a bit lousy now."
"As you should," chastised Ron in a righteous tone.
Hermione made to stomp on his foot again, but Harry held her back.
"You should talk! You didn't believe her either," Hermione hissed, shrugging off Harry's restraining hands.
"I was brainwashed by a certain Prefect," Ron commented loftily.
"This could be a long day," Harry mumbled, stepping directly between Hermione and Ron so they couldn't see one another.
"This isn't going to work," Professor Flitwick said in a pessimistic voice, his small blue eyes roaming frantically over the throng of Gryffindor students pouring excitedly form the Entrance Doors.
They were wearing their black school robes and carrying various signs, all enchanted with color changing spells so that the various pro-Hogwarts slogans flashed in prism colors.
"Entropy," Professor Vector mumbled gloomily, her hooded eyes narrowed in horror at he chaotic sight before her, "this is a perfect model of entropy."
"Please stand with your Houses! Keep the lines, please keep the lines!" Professor McGonagall called, the magical megaphone usually used by Lee at the games, held up to her thin lips. "This is ridiculous," she snapped, lowering the megaphone.
"Oh, but isn't it fun?" Dumbledore asked pleasantly as he strode toward her. He was wearing majestic purple robes and a purple hat with gold trim sat squarely atop his silver hair.
McGonagall blinked at him and then frowned. "This is madness."
Dumbledore smiled jovially and held out his arm for the megaphone.
"Oh, by all means, you try and organize them all," she exclaimed, flustered.
Dumbledore turned to face the entrance steps and waited for the orderly Gryffindor line to finish exiting the castle, Hermione Granger, her arms crossed, bringing up the rear.
"Silence. Can we have silence?" Dumbledore's voice resonated through the crowd, and slowly the roar of teenage voices died down, and a sea of excited faces fixated themselves on the Headmaster. "Today is an exciting day, and a first for Hogwarts."
Dumbledore looked around at the students, who, miraculously, had maintained some sort of linear formation.
"But before we begin our journey I'd like to review a few rules," he raised his graying eyebrows at the many groans and waited for the student's protests to subside. "First, we are guests at the Salem Academy, and thus must act upon our most formal behaviors. This means respecting both your fellow students and the Salem students and following your professors' orders as well as the Salem professors' orders. We will arrive there in time for a lunch picnic and you all will then have several free hours to socialize. There will be no traveling to the Gallows. At five the Quidditch match will begin, and following the ending, we will begin our journey back."
Dumbledore turned around to nod at the Professors lined up behind him, each carrying a large cardboard box.
"The professors are coming around with boxes of buttons, enchanted into port-keys. For those of you who haven't traveled by port-key before, it is nothing to get your socks tied about. Just pick up the button and the charm begins. The Salem Professors will be waiting for your arrival, and we will follow once all of you have left. Enjoy the day and remember, best behavior!"
Harry, Hermione, and Ron stood silently as the Professors fanned out from behind Dumbledore, each carrying a small box, and heading toward the ends of each respective line.
"Well, just think, a few minutes and we'll be halfway across the world," Ron said thoughtfully, his eyes fixated upon Professor Wallace, who was walking their way.
"Were you tired of your hair-style?" Hermione asked as she approached.
Wallace shrugged and smiled.
"Well, since we are supposed to be impressing our associates over there, thought maybe blue hair might put them off a bit," she said, adjusting her grip on the box.
"I thought you were a blonde?" Ron asked abruptly, staring at her reddish-black hair.
"Bleach, wonderful thing," she said as she held the box toward them. "Now, enjoy the day, and say hi to your little friend for me."
Harry was the first to reach into the box and enclose his fingers upon one of the shiny black buttons laying rest in it, and then, the familiar hooking feeling behind his navel took root, and his feet flew from the ground. And then, as suddenly as it had started, it all stopped and he was lying face down in grass.
"Come on, boy, let's get you up, or someone may come raining down upon you," said a soft voice above him.
Harry quickly jumped up, brushed the grass from his school robes, and then turned to look at the tall professor standing next to him.
"The names Meagan O'Reilly," she said, reaching for his hand to shake it.
"Nice to meet you," Harry said wearily, suddenly realizing that he'd have to introduce himself to everyone he met, which was suddenly sounding like a daunting task. "I'm Harry."
Professor O'Reilly smiled, her eyes lingering for a moment on his scar, but she didn't say anything, and quickly turned her attention to the large amount of students in black robes that were suddenly appearing face down upon the ground.
"Hermione?" Harry called, tightening his grip on his Firebolt and running forward to pull her off the ground, then turning is attention to Ron.
"Sickening things, really," Ron muttered, narrowing his eyes at the button. "What we do with these things anyway?"
Hermione pointed to a large bin standing before them, the words 'port-keys' painted upon it.
"You have to turn it in, so it can be reactivated," she said knowingly, striding forward and tossing hers inside it.
Harry and Ron followed, each wondering when they missed those instructions.
"So," Hermione began once they had left the arrival area, "seems we have some time before the game."
"Yeah," Ron agreed, standing up on his tiptoes to stare around the large Salem grounds, his eyes searching for a hint of black hair, but to his immense disappointment, there were many girls with black hair roaming around. "Where do you think she is?"
"She said she'd meet us," Hermione replied, she too standing up on her tiptoes to try and discern Adrienne from the crowd of green robes that were slowly beginning to mingle with the black robed students.
Harry turned around, his eyes falling upon the entrance steps to the Salem castle.
"We could go there," he said, pointing to the steps, "And then we could see everyone."
* * *
"Goody," Adrienne replied dully, turning the page in Dueler's Weekly. "Professor Hartel, get this! Bradley Parrin, he duels with a birch wand!" she exclaimed.
"Yeah, the only one I know who can do that those birch wands are so very weak," Mia said as she emerged from her bedroom, straightening her indigo robes. "Adrienne! What are you doing?"
Adrienne was sitting on Mia's sofa, her feet hanging over the back, her head hanging over the seat, the magazine held over her head.
"Reading," Adrienne replied nonchalantly, turning the page. "And Jasmine Lycé, I told you she teaches at Hogwarts, right?"
Adrienne turned her head, which was quite red, to look at Mia.
"Yes, she teaches the new dueling course, I think you've mentioned it, oh, more than several times," Mia said, a tinge of annoyance in her voice that Adrienne didn't pick up.
"She duels with a sycamore wand a sycamore wand, I didn't even know they made those," Adrienne said, turning back to her magazine.
"I duel with a sycamore wand," Mia said darkly, striding forward and grabbing the magazine from Adrienne's hands.
"Hey! I wasn't done with that yet!" Adrienne cried, rolling off the sofa, careful to avoid the coffee table.
"Well, I bought it," Mia replied, searching anxiously through the pages. "Ah ha! Here I am Mia Enid Hartel-Glenn." She looked up at Adrienne, a smug smile on her face. "Let's see what it says about me, shall we?"
She cleared her throat and began to skim the page.
"This has to be my favorite part: 'At Seventeen, Mia Hartel was the youngest and first girl to ever claim the International Dueling Championship, out-dueling Henry Blogsford with a spectacular and original use of the Tarantellegra Hex.'"
"I've heard this before," Adrienne said, rolling her eyes and smiling at her Professor, whose smug smile had widened into a proud grin.
"Oh, look, I'm said to be one of the most accomplished duelers to ever compete at the International Circuit," she said, haughtily.
"All right, enough of you, see if I'm in there," Adrienne said eagerly, running forward to look on with Mia.
"Fine," she grumbled, turning the pages, looking for Adrienne's name. "Here, let's see: 'The bubbly, if overly clumsy, Adrienne L. Miles, wowed the Magical world with her spectacular mastery of the dueling art at the 1995 Underage International Dueling Championships.' Then there's some boring stuff about your life in a Muggle orphanage, and look, now we're to the good part: 'Miles is under the dueling instruction of master dueler, Mia Hartel-Glenn.'"
"You're so full of yourself, Professor Hartel!" Adrienne laughed, grabbing the magazine from her hands.
Mia watched her with amusement as Adrienne flopped back down on the couch.
"Your head still bothering you, Adri?" Mia asked, bending down as Adrienne raised a hand to head in pain.
"Nah, not much, just aches sometimes," she muttered, lowering her hand and turning her attention back to the magazine.
Ever since her fall in the Cafeteria, her head had been bothering her.
"You sure?" Mia pressed.
"Of course, now let me read I'm to Mallory Makavoich I hate her," Adrienne grumbled.
Mia straightened up and pulled her sleeve up to look at her watch.
"Adrienne, hate to tell you, but we're late. I was supposed to be down there welcoming the Hogwarts students over fifteen minutes ago," Mia sighed. "We better go."
"Where's Professor Glenn?" Adrienne asked as she stood up, throwing Dueler's Weekly back onto the sofa.
"Joe had some stuff to do concerning all this Port-key business," Mia replied as she and Adrienne walked through the mirror and entered the empty corridor.
They walked in silence, Adrienne playing nervously with the hem of her sleeves, casting quick glances up at Mia, who wasn't looking at her. As they neared the Entrance Hall, the voices of the thousand plus students mingling out on the grounds could be heard vibrating down the corridors. Adrienne stopped suddenly.
"Professor, I forgot something up in my dormitory, I have to run back and get it," she said calmly, her shaking hands hidden behind her.
Mia turned, a curious expression on her face.
"Here, I'll go up with you then," she answered, turning around.
Adrienne shook her head.
"No, it's ok, you're all ready late. I'll catch up in a few minutes," she said. "Go on out, Professor, and be bossy."
"I am not bossy," Mia said, but she smiled. "Fine, I'll see you in a few minutes, but don't take too long, Adri, you don't want to miss all the fun."
"Don't worry about me!" Adrienne called behind her as she jogged back through the castle, casting glances back to make sure Mia hadn't decided to follow anyway.
Her dormitory was completely empty and the window looking over the grounds was open. Adrienne quickly walked toward it, stopping right before it. She stared out over the grounds. Hundreds of students were standing below, clad in emerald and black robes. The older ones were standing in groups, some of the younger ones running around wildly, playing tag. Adrienne's eyes searched the crowds, trying to make out a spot of flaming red hair, but she couldn't find any. She slowly stepped back from her window.
"This bites," she moaned, turning around and staring at her empty dormitory. "I have a really bad feeling."
She wrapped her arms around herself and walked over to her bed, falling backwards onto it, making herself comfortable.
"I'm not going down there. I'm not. I'm not speaking to them. I'm not finding them," she instructed herself. "He's safer with me in here."
She had been planning on escaping to the Gallows, but realized that since the only way to reach the Gallows was by walking through the grounds, she'd for sure be spotted by someone.
'So, child, how's the reunion?'
Adrienne sat up straight in bed.
"Not you again!" she hissed, crossing her arms before herself.
'Have you spoken to your brother yet today?' Voldemort asked, his voice soft.
"I plead the Fifth," Adrienne replied.
'Have you already forgotten our agreement? I ask you a question and you answer, or must I force you to do that too?' Voldemort hissed.
"I have a bad headache already; you're only making it worse. Can't we reschedule this conversation, say for another time, maybe fifty years from now," she remarked tiredly.
'If your request is to reschedule, then I believe I can grant you that this one time. I'll be speaking to you later, tonight. Bring your brother with you.'
And then, Adrienne's mind cleared. "That wasn't exactly what I meant," she whispered.
"Are you sure this is the way?"
Adrienne turned slowly in her bed, her jaw dropping in disbelief.
"No way," she mumbled, jumping up from her bed and searching for her Firebolt, thinking she could jump from the window. "No! I loaned it to Erica!"
"Professor Hartel said you couldn't miss it; it's the only dormitory door with a poster of Lockhart."
Adrienne was sure of it, that was Hermione's voice.
"Is it just me, or is Lockhart wearing a bathing suit?"
And that was Harry.
"Oh no," Adrienne drawled, staring at the door with a horrified expression. "Go away," she hissed, her eyes scanning the room for somewhere to hide. "It's better if you just stay away from me go away!"
"It looks like he's just tamed a Kelpie," Hermione commented.
"Wait, does that Kelpie look unusually one-dimensional?" Harry asked, his voice wafting through the closed door.
"I think the moron's riding a cardboard kelpie!" Ron shouted, laughing suddenly. "What a good-for-nothing show off! Really a shame, isn't it, that he got his memory back?"
Hermione rolled her eyes and pushed the door to Dormitory Five open.
"Adrienne?" she called.
"Looks a little empty," Ron said as he walked in, stroking is chin in thought. "Didn't that professor of hers say she was going to be in her dormitory?"
"Yeah," Harry answered, walking forward.
Adrienne tilted her head slightly to the side, just enough to see Harry's feet stop at the window. Note to self, clean under the bed sometime soon, she thought.
"Look at all those people," Harry said in amazement. "This is mad! I can't believe they got this all together."
"Who did they send your permission slip to anyway?" Hermione asked.
Adrienne could now see her black school shoes standing next to Harry's.
"Sirius I suppose," Harry commented nonchalantly.
"I wonder where Adrienne is?"
Adrienne didn't have to turn to look to see where Ron was, because the sinking of the bed atop her told her exactly what he was doing.
"I can't breathe," Adrienne whispered to herself.
"Maybe she's down there looking for us, we could have missed her while walking up here," Hermione said, reaching up and pulling her hair into a ponytail.
"We wouldn't have missed her if you hadn't insisted on trying to run off and find the house elves. Good thing Harry caught the back of your robes, or you'd have spent all day interrogating them," Ron snapped.
He was lying atop Adrienne's bed and staring into the canopy above.
I really need to clean under here, Adrienne thought, wrinkling her nose at all the dust flying around from Ron falling atop the bed.
"Ron, I just wanted to see the house-elves," Hermione snapped, turning around to glare at him.
"Achoo!"
Harry turned around in surprise.
"Who sneezed?" Ron asked, sitting up and staring at his two friends.
"I didn't sneeze," Hermione said.
"Me either," said Harry. He slowly walked away from the window and stared around the room.
"Maybe it was ghost?" Ron suggested.
"Ghosts don't sneeze!" Hermione said, shaking her head.
She walked over and sat down next to Ron.
"Achoo!"
Harry stopped walking and slowly bent down, his eyes scanning the floor, first to his left, and then to his right, finally stopping on the last bed in the corner.
"Adrienne! What are you doing?" he asked in surprise, realizing that the something under the far bed had black hair and was wearing green robes.
I'm caught, Adrienne thought.
"Looking for dust bunnies?" she suggested in a muffled voice. "I was thinking about starting a collection."
"Adrienne!" Suddenly Ron's face appeared upside-down at her side, smiling broadly. "Why didn't you say anything before?"
"Someone was sitting on my chest! I couldn't really breathe," she lied.
"Oh, right."
Ron and Hermione slid off the bed and watched as Adrienne inched out from under it, covered from head to toe in dust. She looked sheepishly at them and then smiled unsurely.
"So, how do you like Salem?" she asked, looking away and trying to brush away the dust.
"Is there a reason you were hiding under the bed?" Hermione asked, walking forward to help clean her off.
"I already told you, trying to start a dust-bunny collection. But, I didn't find any rabbits under my bed. I think people lied to me," Adrienne said in a long-suffering voice.
"You do know that dust-bunnies aren't real rabbits, don't you?" Hermione asked, a tinge of amusement in her voice.
Adrienne's jaw dropped in protest.
"Really? No way! What a disappointment" she moaned.
"We missed you," Ron exclaimed, stepping forward to hug her.
"Did you?" Adrienne asked, not very reassured.
"Of course we did," Harry said, staring at her with a skeptical expression.
Adrienne stared at Harry for a second, Voldemort's words coming back to her. I'm not going to help anyone get killed, she told herself in a strict voice, I have to lose them all.
"Oh, I forgot, I have to tell Professor Hartel something about yeah, the Quidditch game. Come on!" Adrienne said hastily, pulling away from Ron and motioning for them to follow her.
She ran toward the dormitory door.
"Seems she missed us a great deal," Hermione whispered to Harry as they ran after her.
"She just doesn't want to talk to you because you haven't apologized yet," Ron whispered before Harry could say anything.
Adrienne ran through the corridors, periodically looking over her shoulder to see if they were still there.
"Why can't you just leave me alone?" she whispered to herself as she ran. "Really, I don't think I'm the right type of person to be pursuing a friendship with right now."
"Adrienne, hold up!" Harry called from behind them.
He was still carrying his Firebolt and kept accidentally knocking Hermione with it, who was now glaring at him.
"I think she's out with the other professors!" Adrienne yelled as she pushed one of the entrance doors open.
She stopped running and held it open for her three friends.
"We really need to talk to you, Adrienne," Harry said, softly grabbing her arm as he walked through the door.
"Yeah, let me talk to Professor Hartel first," Adrienne said, looking away and pulling out of his grasp.
She hopped down the steps and began looking for Professor Hartel, finding her easily because she was standing next to Hagrid near the edge of the forest, several other professors grouped next to them.
"There they are," Adrienne instructed, pointing their direction. She turned to look at Harry. "Why don't you guys go get some lunch, while I talk to her. Then I'll meet you back here, at the entrance steps, ok?" she asked, smiling in what she hopped was a winning manner.
"Fine, we'll get the food, but we really need to talk to you, Adrienne," Hermione answered, grabbing Harry and steering him away, Ron reluctantly following.
"Do you get the feeling she isn't very keen on speaking with us?" Hermione asked as they reached the food line in the middle of the grounds.
"Definitely," Harry mumbled, turning around to stare through the crowd where Hagrid and Hartel were talking. Adrienne wasn't near them. "Where'd she go?"
"Who, Adrienne?" Ron asked, looking up from ground where he was staring at a smashed flobberworm. "She had to go talk to Professor Hartel, remember?"
"She isn't there," Harry said, reaching up and adjusting his glasses just in case.
Ron turned around and stared where Harry was pointing. "Then where'd she go?"
* * *
Adrienne didn't stop running until she had reached a small clearing in the forest, the same clearing where she had lost her wand on Christmas. She bent over to catch her breath, feeling as if someone was going to barge in on her any moment. Once she had caught her breath she straightened and looked around the clearing. It was small, maybe only ten feet wide, and surrounded by thick oak trees. In the middle was a fallen log, covered in moss. Adrienne walked toward it and sat down.
"I'm going to sit right here until the game starts," she said, staring at a patch of mushrooms growing several feet away. "That way, I'm not near anyone. Then I'll go back to the game, cheer Harry on, and slip away before he can find me. I can't help Voldemort catch him if I'm not near him."
Adrienne smiled at her reasoning and leaned forward, her elbows on her knees.
"Only three hours until the game starts," she said as she looked down at her watch. "This could be rather boring."
* * *
"Good evening Salem and Hogwarts! I'm your Salem announcer, Brandon Hanson – "
"And I'm Lee Jordan, the friendly Hogwartarian commentator!"
The Quidditch stands were packed, a sea of emerald and black robes intermingled in the seats. There were banners everywhere, some reading 'Slay Salem!' others reading 'Let's have a HOGwarts roast!'
"And it looks like this will be an interesting game, don't you agree Lee?" Brandon asked, turning to look at the boy sitting next to him.
They were seated at the very top of the stands, in a tall box that was enchanted to rise with the play of the game.
"Well, none of the Hogwarts players have ever played in an interschool game before," Lee commented, "but I don't think that will stop them." Lee glanced down at his watch. "It looks like five minutes until the start, what can we be expecting from the Salem team, Brandon, anything we should be watching for?"
Hermione and Ron carefully climbed the steps, Hermione finding it much easier this time now that she wasn't carrying a large book.
"Where did she run off to?" Ron moaned miserably as they took seats in the fifth from top row, directly below the announcer's box.
"We're not going back to Hogwarts until we speak with her!" Hermione snapped, crossing her arms before her. "I can't believe she just disappeared like that!"
"Well, the Salem team captain is sixth year Lauren Granthum, an amazingly swift chser and a member of the Eastern Coast Conference All-Star Team, which incidentally won the finals over the Southern Conference All-Stars just two weeks ago."
Lee rolled his eyes, leaned back in his chair, and propped his feet up upon the table before them, telling himself it was going to be a long night commentating with Brandon.
"And then there's our Beaters, Erica Lessie and Chance Copperstone. Erica is the first female Beater to play for Salem in over a hundred years, and as a word of wisdom, Lee, don't make her mad, she isn't strong enough to chuck bludgers for nothing."
"Well, our other two chasers are Danielle Kellerman and Jenna Kyle. They're new to the team this year, both are only third years, but are pretty good aims.
"Sounds interesting, we have some pretty good Chasers too, take for ex – "
"And then there's our Keeper, Anna Zimmerman, boy is she feisty, tries to pick a fight about everything, that girl does."
"Only one guy on your team?" Lee asked in a shocked voice: Usually Quidditch teams were made primarily of men.
"Two, you didn't let me finish, champ," Brandon said, sending Lee a jaunty, winning smile. "Charlie Grey, he's our Seeker – "
"And speaking of Seekers," Lee interrupted, "Harry Potter will be playing as the Hogwarts Seeker. He's been playing his entire time at Hogwarts, making the Gryffindor House team his first year."
"Boys" Lee and Brandon turned; Professor McGonagall and Professor Glenn were standing behind them.
"This is not a brag about your teammates event," Glenn said, pulling up a chair next to Brandon.
"And Mr. Jordan, please, amuse me stick to the game once it begins, alright?" McGonagall asked wearily, sitting down next to him, glad to take weight off her aching feet. Several of the first years from both schools had started frog throwing contests, and she had spent the last hour trying to break it up.
"Right, and we're back!" Brandon shouted into his megaphone. "So Harry Potter is playing for Hogwarts. Tell me Lee, is he really all he's cracked up to be? I mean, is he the lady-killer we all hear about?"
Lee almost fell over backwards trying not to laugh.
"Who, Potter? Nah, sorry to all those girls out there, but he's spoken for," Lee remarked.
"Adrienne? What are you doing here?" Mia asked as Adrienne walked into the teachers' box, which was situated adjacent to the announcer's box, but it didn't move with the play of the game.
"Couldn't find Hermione and Ron," Adrienne lied as she let the door swing shut behind her. She knew exactly where they were sitting: Section G Row 95, four seats in from the center line.
"Oh," Mia replied, turning back around to stare down onto the field. Large clear baskets of fairies were being raised into the air with levitation charms, providing a sudden burst of light in the dusky sky. "You can sit up here with me then," she said, patting the seat next to her.
"Isn't Professor Glenn going to sit with you I don't really want to cause a lover's squabble," Adrienne muttered gloomily as she walked forward to take the seat.
"Adrienne," Mia groaned, rolling her eyes, "Like always he's up supervising Brandon; stupid boy always gets on tangents, you know, takes forever to get him back on track."
"I say thump him over the head a good couple of times and he'll learn his lesson," Adrienne said, shrugging her shoulders as if a good thumping always solved problems.
"There will be no thumping of anyone, clear?" Professor Bell called from her seat next to Dumbledore, whom Adrienne meticulously avoided looking at.
"Tsk tsk, Professor Bell, you're no fun at all," Adrienne murmured, scooting to the edge of her chair so she could lean her elbows against the railing. "Is it almost time to start?" she drawled.
"And here they come, the home team, the Salem Stakeburners!" Brandon cried, jumping up as seven players clad in emerald robes walked onto the pitch.
They all carried their brooms over their left shoulders, their heads fixated straight before them. Cheers rang through the crowd, various banners flew up into the air, and then a tune began to pick up from the far corner where a group of all Salem students stood, snottily segregating themselves from everyone else.
'We are the mighty Salem Stakeburners,
We hold our heads up high
Honest and true we play our game -
So sit back and watch us fly!
We are the mighty Salem Stakeburners
And we'll put up a fight
So settle down and raise your hats
To watch us win tonight!'
"How come they have a song?" Ron whispered dejectedly to Hermione. "How come we don't have a song."
"We do too have a song, we sung it our first year you remember," Hermione answered, sitting up tall in her seat so she would have a better view of the pitch when Harry walked on.
"Oh, right, do we get to sing too?" Ron asked, a hint of excitement threaded into his tone.
"Have we ever sung at a Quidditch game?" Hermione asked shortly, not taking her eyes off the pitch.
"And now, the visiting team, all the way from Scotland, the Hogwarts the Hogwarts," Brandon stuttered and turned to look at Lee, lowering the megaphone and covering it with his hand, "what are you guys called?" he hissed.
Lee screwed his face up in thought. "Um, we don't really have a name we usually just went by the houses – "
"Yes, the Hogwarts team!" Brandon called into the megaphone as Roland Montegue led the seven students onto the field.
"I still don't know how Montegue made captain!" Ron groaned.
"He's the oldest besides Fred and George and come on, they really can't be captains, now, shhhh," Hermione hissed, unconsciously crossing her fingers in preparation for the match.
From the locker rooms beneath the stands, the Hogwarts team marched upon the pitch, their black robes flopping about them in the lazy wind. The Salem team was already lined up in the center of the pitch, the captain, Lauren Granthum, eyeing the approaching team suspiciously. Montegue stopped before her, his sullen eyes hidden behind his low eyebrows. Harry, bringing up the rear, stopped across from the tall, which was unusual, Seeker, Charlie Gray, who smiled a dashing smile, causing Harry to wonder where he had seen him before. It wasn't until the referee, a wizard visiting from France asked for Montegue and Granthum to shake hands that Harry realized that he had seen Charlie on the cover of the magazine, Quadpot and Quidditch, while visiting during the previous summer.
"They're so much bigger than us," Anna muttered to her best friend, Lauren, as the Frenchman, Giovanni Bonacelli, motioned for the box carrying the balls to be brought onto the field. "This is a conspiracy."
Lauren leaned slightly to her left and spoke through the corner of her mouth: "You think everything is a conspiracy. Plus, the bigger they are, the slower they fly."
Harry tightened his grip on his Firebolt and turned his head to stare into the stands, searching for Hermione, Ron, and Adrienne. Where is she? he asked himself in disgust. She hadn't come back from speaking with Professor Hartel. Harry was beginning to think that Adrienne was training to work a disappearing act in a circus.
"Tweet!" the sharp sound of a whistle filled his ears and he leapt into the air, soaring upward in record timing.
"And the game's begun!" Brandon yelled into his microphone. "Now we'll see if these Hogwarts students live up to the reputation everyone is giving them."
"And Granthum is first the quaffle!" Lee announced, interrupting Brandon, who had a smug expression on his face and was writing a sloppy note betting 15 galleons on the outcome of the game.
"Granthum is a marvelous player. She really knows how to maneuver that broom. It looks like one of the carrot-tops – " Brandon said, pushing his note to a nearby owl who picked it up in his beak and flew away.
"That's Fred Weasely – " Lee interjected, but Brandon waved him off.
"has sent a bludger her way. And she rolls to escape it."
"A nice hand off to fellow chaser Danielle Kellerman," Lee said rapidly, glaring at Brandon who looked extremely put off for being interrupted.
"And Kellerman nears the Salem posts, where their Keeper, Hunter, is waiting. You know what Lee?" Brandon turned, the megaphone still up to his mouth, to look at Lee. "I just don't see how your Hunter can hold up; Kellerman is a top notch player. I'd bet my life on her scoring."
"I wouldn't make that bet, Brandon. Kellerman shoots and Hunter blocks, tossing the quaffle back into play. It's intercepted by Hogwarts' Volstechy."
Harry turned his head to follow the quaffle as Volstechy handed off to Montegue, who in turn faked to Garland. Harry squinted ahead, his eyes searching for the snitch.
"And its Garland – "
"But look, here comes Salem beater Erica Lessie."
A sickening crack filled the air, but Harry didn't turn around to see if Garland had actually been hit; he didn't need to. From the excited look on George's face ahead of him, Harry could guess that George had knocked Lessie's bludger off course.
"Don't worry!" Brandon exclaimed as groans emitted from the Salem supporters. "That Hogwarts chic – "
"Not the best word!" Professor Glenn chastised, turning to glare at Brandon, who just ignored him.
" – still has to pass the Keeper."
Anna Zimmerman stared wide-eyed as Garland came barreling toward her. She leaned forward on her broom, her knees held tight against the stick, her arms before her, ready to catch.
"I hate this game!" Anna muttered as Garland sped to her right, faked, and then looped up to shoot at the far left goal. "And I hate you!" Anna screamed as she flew at top speed toward the far goal.
She flung her hand forward and knocked the quaffle, sending it onto the edge of a golden ring and bouncing away. Garland's face fell at Anna's lucky block.
"And our Zimmerman has saved the day!" Brandon called as Anna dived to catch the quaffle, yelling back up at Garland, "Chica! Looks like you could use some practice!"
The game continued and Harry continued his ever existing glare over the pitch, searching desperately for a glint of gold. But none came and as he cris-crossed the pitch, his green eyes often flickering over to Grey, who too wasn't having any luck, Harry turned his attention back to the game.
"And Kyle's stolen the Quaffle from Volstechy and is making her way down the field. Is it just me, Brandon, or is she really hot," Lee said, his eyes widening, a small smile breaking upon his face, which quickly faded as McGonagall slapped the back of his head.
"And what does that have anything to do with the game?" she hissed.
"Right, and it's Kyle, on a breakaway – OUCH – that had to hurt, a bludger straight to the stomach, she should have seen that one coming," Lee said, shaking his head in sympathy.
"You sure you don't see Adrienne anywhere?" Hermione asked, elbowing Ron, who was bent forward in his seat, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, his eyes wide with the excitement of the game. He ignored her.
"Ron," Hermione hissed, elbowing him again. "Do you see her anywhere?"
"Shhh, Hermione, I'm trying to watch a game," he said, elbowing her back.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Ron! Do you see her?
Ron slowly turned his head, an impatient scowl on his face. "No, I've been watching the game, how would I have seen her unless she was out prancing upon the field. We'll find her afterwards. See, I told you you should have apologized right away," he said angrily.
"And the score is now 100- 40 Salem. Well, Lee, it doesn't look very good for your team so far. And if your Potter doesn't catch the snitch soon, then I think Salem might be having a victory party tonight!" Brandon said in a cocky voice.
Harry rolled his eyes at Brandon's commentary and suddenly swerved to his left, smiling at Fred at George who were making to hit two oncoming bludgers. Harry's eyes drifted to the Hogwarts goals, where Anna Zimmerman was hovering, her arms crossed before her, and she wore an insubordinate expression; she didn't look like she wanted to be there at all. He was just beginning to wonder why she would join the team if she never had any fun playing, when a glint of gold flicked far above the far left corner of the pitch.
"And would you look at that!" Lee exclaimed, jumping out of his seat, Brandon quickly following suit.
Harry had flown into a steep ascent. The snitch hadn't moved yet, and Harry flattened himself upon his broom, his eyes fixated upon the motionless object before him.
"And Grey's spotted the snitch too," Brandon exclaimed hopefully, unconsciously crossing his fingers.
Harry saw Charlie out of the corner of his eye, and tightened his grip on his broom. He didn't like having to catch the snitch in an ascent, much preferring to enter a dive to reach the ball, it was always quicker. Several feet away from the snitch, a bludger went whirling past his ear. And then another past his arm. Harry reached out to grab the snitch, but it suddenly dropped, falling through the air at breakneck speed, its little wings fluttering like those of Hummingbirds.
"And the chase is on!" Lee yelled, as both Charlie and Harry flipped around in mid air to begin their dives. The wind brushed Harry's hair from his face and pushed his glasses against his face. The snitch veered to the right, Harry and Charlie close behind.
The students and professors in the stands were now standing, chants of "Potter" and chants of "Grey" filling the air. The snitch was picking up speed and even with the Firebolt, Harry was falling behind. Then, the snitch turned directions again, this time to the left, and the split second loss of momentum to facilitate the direction change was all Harry needed. Swinging to the side of his broom, he flung out his left hand and enclosed the golden ball in his palm.
"And Potter catches the snitch! 190-100, in favor of Hogwarts!" Lee called.
"Dam--" Brandon started to cry into the megaphone but Joe turned in his seat and waved at him, an unamused smile upon his face.
"Well, Brandon, that was a good game! The Salem Chasers were quite amazing, but still, Potter really is a whiz on a broom," Lee said.
"Yeah, can it, I just lost 15 galleons I don't have 15 galleons. Damn it!" Brandon moaned, lowering his head onto the table in disgust. "Stupid foreigners!"
Adrienne slowly stood up, raising her arms above her to stretch.
"Told you he was good, Professor, didn't I?" she asked, turning to look at Mia, but she had walked over to the far edge of the box to talk to Professor Glenn.
Adrienne slowly turned back around, making a face.
"No one wants to talk to me," she mumbled, and then shrugged. "Oh well, I bet Professor Glenn 50 galleons." Adrienne laughed, a small smile engulfing her face. "That'll buy all my school supplies until I graduate!"
She turned and made her way to the box's exit with intents on walking around to go talk to Professor Glenn, without Mia's hearing she wouldn't approve at all. No one saw Adrienne leave.
* * *
"We have to get down onto the field!" Ron shouted, grabbing Hermione's arm and pulling her into the quickly filling aisle. Hermione followed, her eyes wide and her head moving from left to right, searching for Adrienne.
Adrienne quickly ran down the back stairway of the stadium. It was always blocked off for student use, but she never followed those directions. She had made her way over to the announcer's box, but had found Joe to have already left. The echoing roar of the students in the stadium vibrated through the stairwell, making her slightly dizzy. Raising a hand to her head, Adrienne slowly sat down upon the fourth landing. She took a few deep breaths and then lowered her hand, the triangle on her palm catching her eye.
It had only been a month ago that Professor Glenn had asked to see her hand. Nothing had really come of that night except that she had lost her second wand and now had frequent splitting headaches. Professors Glenn and Hartel, not having any specialty in ancient arts, and unwilling to take her to any of the universities that did, for fear that Adrienne might end up as some experiment of theirs, had decided the best thing for Adrienne was to just know the truth. She had spent the night on their couch, as she did many nights, wearing one of Mia's old robes as a nightgown, her head rested in Mia's lap as Mia told her that she shouldn't be blaming herself for the attack on Salem. That whatever was bothering her, Mia assuming it was Adrienne knowing she was a Perfect, should be just dropped, not worried about any more. Adrienne just laid there, staring into the ceiling, letting her talk, wondering how the hell she was supposed to get her school work done without a wand.
Adrienne half expected them to go tell Professor Bell what had happened, but for some reason beyond her knowledge, Mia and Joe told her that no one should know about it. Adrienne was going to ask why Dumbledore didn't think she should be told she was Perfect, but again, when she tried to talk about it, her mouth wouldn't let the words come out. So, she just sat in silence, sometimes nodding to show she was listening.
Adrienne slowly stood back up and began to make her way back down the stairwell, the cheers and victory screams getting louder. Adrienne pushed the door open and slowly walked outside the stadium into the dark night. The game had gone on for two hours, and it seemed that dusk had almost come earlier than usual, or maybe it was just her. It was slightly chilly and Adrienne wrapped her robe tighter around herself and slowly walked through the dark grounds back toward the castle.
"Harry! Harry!"
Harry looked down from his position atop Fred's shoulders and waved at Hermione and Ron, who were pushing their way through the crowd.
"Let me down," Harry yelled to Fred, who was yelling to George, who was several feet away, chatting to the Salem Chaser, Lauren Granthum.
Fred rolled his eyes, obviously disappointed in Harry's lack of desire to party, and lowered him to the ground, hands raining down upon Harry's back in congratulations. Harry smiled at the multiple faces and gave a couple fives to various people and then pushed himself toward Hermione and Ron.
"I think I'm getting claustrophobic," Harry said, realizing that even though he spent all those years in the Dursley's cramped and spider infested closet, he couldn't stand being in such huge crowds.
He was always afraid he'd get trampled to death, like what had happened at a professional Quidditch game he read about from the 1960s, when a Seeker was stampeded by excited fans coming to congratulate him on his catching the snitch: The Seeker was given a nice funeral, and those who attended were extremely careful not to step atop his grave, figuring this was the least they could do, considering his unfortunate demise.
"You were wonderful!" Hermione exclaimed, kissing his cheek.
He smiled and kissed her back, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, linking arms with Ron, and pulling them through the growing crowd.
"Where are we going?" Hermione asked as she tried to dodge the people in her way.
When they had finally left the crowd Harry answered.
"To where I can breathe," he said, letting go of her and Ron. He stepped forward and turned to look at them. "So, how was the game?"
"Magnificent, as usual," Hermione replied, somewhat dully, and Harry smiled at her lack of enthusiasm.
"They have some pretty fast Chasers," Ron replied, his head glancing back behind him. "And did you see that? One of the beaters was riding a Firebolt."
"Yeah, I heard her talking; Adrienne loaned it to her," Harry replied, stepping up onto his tiptoes to scan the crowd. "We should go find her."
Hermione's shoulder's slumped. "In there? You have to be kidding me. There's at least two thousand people on the pitch. There has to be an easier way."
Ron took a step forward, his eyes squinting.
"What are you doing?" Harry asked, leaning over slightly to see into Ron's face.
Ron waved his hand in protest at Harry blocking his view. "I don't think we have to go back into that crowd. It seems Adrienne's loosing her skill at this disappearing game."
Harry turned and they all stared through the open entrance to the stadium, where in the moonlight they could see a lone figure in green robes walking toward the castle. It was the figure's tripping and sprawling face first into the ground that confirmed her identity, and in an instant the three friends had broke into a run.
Adrienne pulled herself miserably from the ground and brushed the grass from her robes.
"One of these days I'm going to get this walking concept down," she muttered dejectedly as she again made her way toward the castle.
She had only taken a few steps when suddenly her legs turned.
"What the – " she started, her face scrunched up in surprise.
Her legs were moving as if on their own, taking her away from the castle toward the forest.
"Oh no," she moaned, realizing that the only reason for this happening was that Voldemort was making her do it. "This really can't be good!"
Adrienne took a deep breath and then made to scream, hoping someone might hear her, but nothing came out.
"Where is she going?" Hermione asked in-between deep breaths, she wasn't in nearly as good as shape as Harry or Ron, and was lagging substantially behind them.
"Why's she going to the forest?" Ron asked, casting a confused glance at Harry.
"Adrienne! Adrienne, wait up!" Harry yelled, breaking into a faster gait.
Adrienne's heart leapt into her throat. Go away, she thought desperately, please don't follow me. Adrienne tried to yell something back, to tell them to go away, to bugger off, to do anything, anything but follow her. But the only thing that happened was that her legs broke into a run and she ripped over the ground, not running at a breakneck speed, but still faster than any of the three behind them.
"She's too fast!" Ron panted as he stopped running and crunched over, rubbing the stitch in his side and wincing in pain.
Hermione stopped next to him, and gasping for breath, put an arm on Ron's shoulder and looked out over the grounds as Harry continued his pursuit.
"Adrienne! Hold up!" Harry called.
Adrienne kept running, her mind screaming for her to stop, but nothing was listening to her, she couldn't even speak. The forest was only feet away now and she felt herself slowing down, almost as if giving Harry a chance to catch up. Adrienne slipped through the trees, her feet boldly stepping upon the fallen logs and scattered rocks. Even in the darkness she knew where she was heading: The clearing she had been in earlier. She could hear Harry behind her; she could hear his yells for her to stop. And then suddenly she did, too abruptly though, and she fell forward.
"Gosh! Why can't I walk normally?" she moaned, finally able to talk again and rolling over on the hard ground.
Her head was pounding, this time from where it had hit a log, and it took several seconds for her eyesight to focus. And when it did, she screamed.
"Shhh, are you all right?" Harry was standing over her, breathing hard, his face flushed.
"Ugh! No, I think I broke one of those head-bones my brains are going to start leaking out any moment," Adrienne muttered, reluctantly accepting Harry's hand up.
She raised a hand to her eyes, feeling suddenly dizzy.
"Why did you run?" Harry asked, his voice slightly shaky from the lack of breath.
Adrienne lowered her hand, still feeling as if the ground was rocking back and forth.
"I I couldn't stop," she said slowly, looking away.
Harry raised his eyebrows. "You couldn't stop?"
"Adrienne?"
Adrienne whipped around, finally realizing why she had ended up in the forest. Her hands clenched in fear, but when she realized who was speaking to her, her mouth dropped. It wasn't Voldemort, it was Mia.
"Professor Hartel?" Adrienne asked, a large smile breaking upon her face. She awkwardly ran forward, still quite offbalanced, and engulfed Mia in a big hug. "You have no idea how happy I am to see you!"
Mia took a step back, a confused expression on her face.
"Whatever is the matter?" she asked, staring down at Adrienne. Her eyes flicked back to Harry and smiled. "Nice to see you again Harry! Congratulations on your game! When Adrienne said that you were a good player, she never said that you were that good! I bet you'll have many offers to play professional Quidditch when you leave Hogwarts."
Harry smiled and walked forward, still trying to catch his breath.
"Do you have your wand with you, Professor?" Adrienne asked hastily, quickly looking around, expecting someone to pop out of the shadows any moment now. She had a bad feeling, a really bad feeling.
"Of course I do," Mia answered, smiling sympathetically at Adrienne as if Adrienne were losing her mind.
"Good, get it out. NOW!" Adrienne exclaimed. "Come on!"
"What is going on, Adrienne?" Mia asked as she reached into her robe and pulled out her wand.
Adrienne sighed in relief as Mia raised it to show her she had it, but then, as Mia brought it into better lighting, or as good of lighting one could get from the moon, Adrienne's face dropped. She took a step backward, her partly closed right hand rising to her chest.
"What's the matter, Adrienne? You look like you've seen a ghost!" Mia said, a worried expression crossing her face, but she didn't lower her wand.
Adrienne's eyes lingered on Mia's wand, the green irises fixated upon it that wasn't a sycamore wand. A cold chill rushed through her body, and Adrienne's eyes flickered to the foliage surrounding them. It was too dark to see anything beyond the first few feet of trees, but she didn't need to see anything to know people were there. Adrienne took another step backwards, her head turning to look at Harry, who, as she had been moving backward, had been moving forward to see what was bothering her. Suddenly, Adrienne felt someone grab her hand.
"Adrienne, where are you going? I asked you a question, or have you already forgotten our agreement? I ask you a question and you answer, or must I force you to do that too?" Mia was no longer smiling and was holding onto Adrienne's left wrist in a tight grip.
"What's going on?" Harry asked, staring at Mia and Adrienne in alarm.
"You're not Professor Hartel," Adrienne whispered, her voice caught in her throat.
The lady holding onto her smiled, a large cold smile that Adrienne had never seen upon Mia's face.
"Of course I'm not," she whispered.
"This would be a good time to run!" Adrienne screamed, yanking her arm forward and pulling the lady toward her. Adrienne brought her knee into the lady's stomach and elbowed her across the face.
"What's going on!" Harry yelled, reaching into his robes for his wand.
His eyes widened in fear as he realized they hadn't been allowed to take their wands with them.
"What part of run don't you understand?" Adrienne yelled as she finally broke free of the lady's grasp. "Go get help!"
But before Harry could tell Adrienne that he wasn't leaving her there alone, someone had stepped from the darkness, wand raised.
"Stupefy!"
Adrienne heard Harry fall to the ground beside her. She looked up at the hooded figure standing at the edge of the clearing, her heart pounding out of control. Adrienne heard the stunning spell, and she saw the flash of light, and then nothing.