A/N: Kay, here's the second part. I have improved with my places to write, though, be proud of me! Now I write in Science class (I'm not even going to say sorry to Mr. Cohen, he doesn't deserve it.), with small screaming children, or at 2 am. I lead an interesting life.

Disclaimer: I've already done this. I don't know why it's necessary. Oh well. I don't own anything except for a few cds.

~~~~~~~~Chapter 2:

            The next morning, Harry woke with a start. Grabbing his alarm clock, his fears were confirmed. It was 8:00. He'd overslept and missed breakfast. Double Potions with the Slytherins was about to start. Why the hell didn't anyone wake me up? Harry thought frantically as he scrambled out of bed, and who put this pile of presents at my bed?!? He sat down hard on the floor, shaking his head at his own idiocy. It's Christmas, I don't have potions today; and no one woke me up because- Harry glanced over at the other fifth year boys' beds- they're still asleep. Oh well, I'm awake now, might as well get up. He got dressed and stumbled down to the common room. Only a few Gryffindors had stayed for Christmas break that year, and since they were all still asleep, Harry was the only one the eerily quiet room. I should get some work done, just until someone else gets up. Ugh, I sound like Hermione. Trying not to dwell on this thought any longer than was necessary, Harry pulled out, horror of horrors, his Divination homework. He soon found himself running out of dreadful things to happen in the next month, so, for probably the first time since, well, ever, Harry actually did the work. About a half an hour later, he went over what he'd written, pausing at one entry in particular. You will meet a stranger you've always known. This peculiar oxymoron sounded strangely like a prediction Professor Trelawney had done for him a few days back.

A/N: oooh, flashback time. okay, just so you know, *--* signals the beginning of a flashback, and another one signals the end of it. that's all, you may continue.

*--* It was the day before Christmas break, and Prof. Trelawney had decided to give them a little "treat" by meeting with each of them privately, and telling their fortunes. They had all waited in a line in front of the ladder leading up to the veiled classroom. Lavender and Parvati in front, Ron and Harry in back. Most had gone in looking fairly excited, and come out looking extremely disappointed, Ron was just pissed. "She said I'd fail all of my subjects, and get detention every day until Easter! What a fraud! She wouldn't know a prediction if it danced naked in front of her, singing, "Look at me, I'm a prediction, I'm a prediction!" Then she was going on about how someone close to me was going to die soon. 'Not a brother, this person is very close to you, but you've only known them for, oh, I don't know, the last five years?' I swear she has a book called 101 Ways to Kill Off Harry Potter! Never goes anywhere without it!" By the time that he was done with this little rant, Ron was turning a rather pretty shade of purple. "Oh yeah," he panted, "She says it's your turn next. What she means is it's your turn if you somehow manage to survive the treacherous climb up the five-foot ladder!" Apparently telling Harry that one of his teachers hoped he would die was not the way to cheer him up. Damn, thought Ron dejectedly, Hermione was right. Ever since the end of the Triwizard Tournament, Harry had been horribly quiet and depressed. And ever since school had begun again, Ron and Hermione had been trying to cheer him up. So far all they had succeeded in doing was annoying the hell out of each other. By the time Ron had stopped thinking about his and Hermione's different approaches to everything under the sun, Harry had already climbed the ladder. "Probably should have told him about the stronger fragrance spells," Ron muttered before sitting down for a long wait.

            Harry's first thoughts as he entered the Divination room were strange and confusing (Ack! Attack of the incense! I've been hit! Repeat, one man down, send help! Dumbledore, we have a problem.). However they were soon interrupted by the mistiness that was Prof. Trelawney, "Hello, my poor, dear, cursed child. Have you come to me to see your dismal future?"

            "Um… yeah… sure… why not?"

            Prof. Trelawney pursed her lips, clearly annoyed that the "poor, dear, cursed child" wasn't more enthusiastic to hear about his horrible fate. "Yes, well, just sit there and give me your hand." Harry willingly (or not so much) obeyed.

            For what seemed like an eternity, the vaporous, yet strangely deranged professor regarded Harry's hand like a hawk would watch it's prey. "Hmm… I see… oh, indeed? Interesting… Well I've never seen one of those before!" She sighed, and when she spoke again the mistiness in her voice had disappeared. "You have a long path ahead of you, Mr. Potter."

            "Oh," said Harry, clearly perplexed A/N: teehee. perplexed. yet another funny word. so's door. teehee. door. pillow too. DIBBLZED! sorry, don't ask., "Is that a good thing?"

"I have never seen a palm like yours in my entire life, it shows me that you will soon go on a journey, and yet that you will stay in the same  place. Very confusing and mysterious, don't you think?"

            "I guess," the Boy who Lived muttered, completely unimpressed. He stood up, lost in thought, and slowly climbed down the ladder to meet Ron.*--*