((Disclaimer: I own not the wonder of Harry Potter, but I did create everything that wasn't mentioned in J.K. Rowling's books. So there. Oo;))

((Author's note: I am writing this story as a revised version of my first fic, Better Late Than Never. If you chose to read that one, please tell me what you think of this one in comparison! The stories are about a year apart, and I hope I've grown somewhat in my writing ability since then. Now... On with the fic!))

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Hypnotism

Chapter 1:

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Aimee snickered as she dialed the number shown on a phony late-night psychic commercial.

"Hey, if you keep giggling like that, she's gonna know you're not 18!" protested Rachel, Aimee's best friend.

It was a Saturday night at the end of August, more correctly a Sunday morning. Aimee's parents were out of town for the weekend, so there was nothing more natural to do than have a sleepover with her closest friend.

"All right, all right; I get it. Now hush up and pick up the other phone!"

Rachel did as she was told, scowling the entire time. There was nothing she hated more than Aimee in a bossy mood, and she had been putting up with this one all night.

A few seconds after Rachel picked up the phone, so did Madame Sophie, the psychic.

"Good evening, young lady. You have called me over matters of the heart, yes?"

Aimee rolled her eyes. Not another mushy psychic. The last one babbled the entire time over nothing but Aimee's husband, who didn't exist.

'You'd think at least one of these loonies could be creative,' Aimee thought while responding. "Yes, actually, I have."

Rachel glanced over at Aimee. If -she- had been the one to call, she would have at least made it exciting. Oh, well. Maybe this could be okay after all... Or maybe it would be so boring that it would convince Aimee to get a better computer. The internet is much more exciting than fake psychic calls.

"Well, my dear, what would you like to know?" The psychic was starting to get snippy. This was not a good sign... Angry mediums were obnoxious, no matter how fake they were.

"I... I was wondering if... if...," Aimee tried to think of something original in about three seconds, but failed. "If I have a soulmate."

The psychic sighed. Not another 12-year-old client. She hoped they were using their parents' credit card. "Let me look into my crystal ball... I see... nothing. I am sorry, my dear, it seems that you are destined to be alone for all eternity. I am truly sorry." With that, she hung up the phone and decided to take her coffee break. Doesn't anyone take the supernatural seriously anymore?

"Nice job, Aim. Maybe next time you'll be more convincing," Rachel remarked. "Or we could always do something a little more normal, instead of sustaining your obsession with prank calls."

"Yeah, but it's just so much fun! Even if this one was kind of boring, the next one could always be better!"

Rachel sighed dramatically and rolled over onto her pillow, crunching dropped potato chips as she did. "G'night, Aimee."

"G'night, Rachel."

Back on the other end of that night's exchange, there was an abandoned room that smelled strongly of coffee, glowing softly from the light of an orb in the center of a round table. It showed a vision of a humongous castle looming steadily closer, then it flickered from face to face of the occupants inside before finally deciding on one. After displaying its chosen image for a split second, it returned to the dead state that it would remain in for the rest of time.