A/N: Hey everyone, it's Lauren here. I've got chapter five for you all! I hope you like it, I happen to like it myself. (Not that I'm bragging or anything, I just happen to think it's all right.) So read up, and make sure to review! Enjoy!

Lauren

Disclaimer: I'm sure JK would have never thought to torture her characters in such a way, because only I have such a sick, weird mind as to put them in a movie like this. So oh well, I'm not JK. Oh, and I also don't own the line "I see, I say, you pay," which is from the actual movie Life or Something Like It. So don't kill me. (By the way, Tony Shaloub is so cute in that movie. Love him!)

Oh, I also mean no offense in my reference to Jesus, for all of you who are religious. If this seems trivial, I'm just making sure I've got all the bases covered and no one suddenly hates me because I used his name in vain, or however that saying goes. I'm sorry. It's how people talk.

I'm done now. I'll shut up now so you can read.

Chapter Five

The Importance of a Good Interior Decorator

"I don't want to die, I don't want to die, I don't want to die…"

"Hermione, I really don't think you're going to die, calm down. And stop that rocking, it's making me really uncomfortable."

Hermione was sitting on Ron's couch, clutching a blanket around herself protectively, and rocking back and forth nervously. Ron had just walked in from the kitchen and was attempting to hand her a cup of coffee, but of course was failing miserably as she simply could not sit still.

"But he was right!" she cried. "About everything! I mean, the game, the storm, what's to say he's wrong about this? What if I'm really going to die next Thursday? Then what?" Hermione glared at him through her wet, heavy eyelashes. She was practically falling apart at the seams, and the more he looked at her, the more he began to feel bad for her, ridiculous as the whole thing was. He sat down next to her and placed an arm around her.

"Look, Mione, you're not going to die, okay? He was probably just messing with you. I mean, it's not like you guys got off to a very good start, he was probably just, I don't know, being immature or something. But I can promise you, you're not going to die, that's ridiculous," he said seriously, rubbing her arm unconsciously. Hermione looked up at him, a tear rolling down her cheek. She rested her head on his shoulder and sniffled.

"Are you sure? I mean, what if—oh my god, oh my god…"

She jumped up from the couch suddenly as though she'd been poked with a sharp stick. Ron looked taken aback.

"No, no, what is this? What is all of this now, we are not—Ronald Weasley, I don't know what you think you're getting at, but I will not—I am not here to be comforted into sleeping with you! So you can just take your arm-rubbing hands to someone else, because I'm DYING HERE!" she cried, flinging her arms frantically and letting the blanket fall to the floor. Ron stared at her, bewildered, as Hermione stared right back at him, furious. This continued for a few minutes, until Ron suddenly burst into a fit of laughter. Hermione's glare disappeared, and was replaced by a frown.

"What, what's so funny?"

"Hermione, you honestly think I was trying to—to—to seduce you?" he asked, still laughing. "That's preposterous, that was almost four years ago, I'm not stupid," he said, shaking his head. Hermione's glare returned as she picked the blanket up off the floor and wrapped herself in it again.

"Oh, so you're saying you were just being a, a 'good friend'? Is that it? So you had no alternative intentions then?" she asked, attempting to sound accusatory but instead sounding a bit hurt.

"No, Hermione, it honestly hadn't even crossed my mind…god, I'm not that presumptuous, you know."

They both sat there, silent for a few minutes, neither knowing what to say. Finally, Hermione sighed, looked at Ron sadly, and took a seat next to him.

"I'm sorry, Ron," she said, putting his arm back around her shoulder. "It was a bit uncalled for, I know. I guess I'm just…tense," she finished lamely.

"Hermione, there's nothing to be tense about, you'll be fine. You're not going to die, that's for sure."

"You'd better be right," she said, standing up and placing the blanket on the sofa. "Thanks, I'm off to work."

Ron stared after her as she picked up her bag and headed out the door.

"Well, that was certainly exciting…"

Hermione spent the rest of the day in false confidence, telling herself that things would be perfectly fine, but finding it near impossible to ignore the ominous pang in the pit of her stomach. By the time she left work, she was on the verge of breaking down. She decided that she was going to get to the bottom of this, and in about two minutes found herself back in the bustling hallways of the Ministry.

"Susie," she said, walking into a cubicle on level seven, "you have all the listings of the clients for the World Cup case?"

A blue-eyed brunette peered back at Hermione through a pair of hideous, alligator-rimmed glasses and sneered.

"Yes, of course I do, what do you think I don't do my job around here?"

"Um, could you look up someone for me?" she asked, ignoring her last comment. Susie pulled open a file cabinet and looked back at her expectantly.

"Oh, um, his name is Jack. Jack…" she paused, realizing she hadn't gotten down his last name. She smacked herself mentally and sighed.

"Hmm," Susie said imperiously. "Well, lucky for you, there's a Jack in here. You might take a look and see if it's him."

She pulled a tan folder from the cabinet and handed it slowly to Hermione, making sure to look at her arrogantly as she did. Hermione grabbed it and flung it open. There they were, her notes, on Jack the Seer, and behind them was a registration form he had filled out on arrival. She looked for an address, a location, anything…

"Hangar Lane…all right, thanks Susie. I'm off."

She thrust the folder back in Susie's arms and strode off, leaving Susie in shock.

Ten minutes later, Hermione found herself faced with a dark, abandoned alleyway behind what looked like a series of equally dark, equally abandoned buildings. She peered around the corner cautiously, wondering what she had gotten herself into. With one hesitant foot in front of the other, she made her way over to a dingy trashcan and got onto her toes to look over it.

"H-Hello?" she called out timidly. She could hear a rustling noise from a few feet behind the trashcan, and a head suddenly popped out from seemingly nowhere.

"Hi, what can I do for—oh, it's you," he said, recognizing her face. Hermione scowled.

"Look, I need to talk to you, it's really very important."

Jack looked at her skeptically, and for a moment, Hermione thought she saw him sizing her up, which only worsened her attitude.

"I need your help. Are you willing to cooperate or not?"

After another moment of silence, Jack stepped back and nodded her to step inside, wherever 'inside' was. Hermione raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms across her chest.

"Do you want my help or not?" Jack asked, and Hermione dropped her arms, frustrated. Sighing loudly, she rolled her eyes and, as Jack stretched out an opening arm, found her way past the trash bin and into the darkness beyond.

Jack followed and, just as Hermione began to feel uncomfortable from the lack of light, struck a match; he made his way over to a display of candles and set the wicks afire.

Hermione wasn't exactly sure what to do with herself; she found that she was surrounded strange, beat-up furniture and tattered cloth drapes. Just as she decided it was best not to sit on the old, dusty couch to her left, she felt the weight of the day finally sinking in on her feet, and began the mental battle of willpower to keep herself standing.

"So, what is it you need help with?" Jack asked finally, after blowing out the match and placing it on the table.

"Um, well, I wanted to talk to you about this whole death prediction. It seems to have gotten way out of hand, and it's been eating away at me all day…part of me wants to think you're yanking my chain, yet something inside me actually believes you. If it's not too much trouble, I'd like you to make another prediction for me. Just, you know, for good measure. So I can tell if this is serious or not."

Jack stared at her curiously. After he didn't answer for a moment, she began to feel uncomfortable under his stare until finally she couldn't take it any more.

"Well, what? Will you do it or not?" she quipped.

"Actually, I don't just 'make predictions' for anybody for no good reason," he said finally, walking around and moving things from place to place. It bothered Hermione that he couldn't seem to stay still.

"I see, I say, you pay," he said quickly.

"Excuse me, what?" Hermione said, leaning forward as to hear him better.

"I said, 'I see, I say, you pay'. Meaning you compensate me for my services. Is that a problem?" he asked, picking up a chipped mug and wiping it (somewhat) clean with his torn, wrinkled (and undoubtedly dirty) shirtsleeve. Hermione cringed as he proceeded to take a half-empty water bottle and empty its contents into the glass, taking a sip and sighing.

"Um, no, I suppose that would be all right," she said, regaining herself. She reached into her purse and pulled out her wallet, opening the clasp and pulling out a galleon. Before she could even hand it over, he cleared his throat pointedly and looked at the ceiling. Hermione growled. Reaching back inside, she pulled out four more of the gold coins and made sure they clinked in her palm before handing them over. He took them with a smile and walked over to the table holding the candle display, pulling open a drawer and slipping them inside, appreciating the tinkling noise they made when they fell.

"Now, for this prediction, what exactly do you do? I mean, does it just come to you suddenly, or do you sit down and close your eyes? Or maybe you have to, you know, 'clear your mind' or whatnot. Perhaps some meditation?" she asked, moving towards the center of the room. Jack stayed silent.

"Perhaps standing on one foot and hopping around in three circles, chanting North African rhymes?" she asked, her voice suddenly cruel and cynical. Jack still remained silent, and slowly his head rolled back to face the ceiling. Hermione, ignoring the initial awe she experienced at this, crossed her arms back over her chest and began tapping her toe impatiently. After a few minutes, Jack's head returned to its normal position, and he shook his hands and legs.

"Well, I've learned two things. You're not going to get that job. And there's going to be a rather nasty wizards' duel in Scotland, in which three people will die and two will be critically wounded."

Hermione stared at him in disbelief. A wizards' duel? That was crazy. The way he spoke of it made it sound like adventures sitting at a bus stop. And did he just say she wasn't going to get the job? She felt her face flush and could only imagine how pick she was.

"Excuse me, but I'm working really hard to get this job, so it makes no sense to me how I would suddenly not get it. Abernathy said my chances were excel—"

"It doesn't matter what he said. You can't possibly get the job if you're dead, can you?"

Hermione sat in her apartment, more afraid than she'd ever been in her life. She couldn't sleep, although it was three in the morning. She wasn't hungry, though she hadn't eaten all day. She sat on her bed, contemplating the possibility of her life coming to an end in a few short days. She felt very alone, and that was what scared her most. Don was still in Scotland, and wouldn't be back for several weeks, and by that time she'd possibly be dead. She wanted to tell him, or to talk to him at least, but it was three in the morning, and…

"Hello?" came a groggy, barely awake voice from what sounded like very far away.

"Hi sweetie," Hermione said cooingly, trying to relax. She heard Don yawn and imagined him stretching his arms to the top of the headboard.

"Herm? What are you doing, calling this late? Or actually, I should say early, it's…Jesus, Herm, it's three in the morning. What's going on?"

"I'm sorry, honey, I just really wanted to talk to you, that's all," she said, suddenly regretting being so worried in the first place. "I just missed you, I guess."

"Oh, well, it couldn't wait till morning? You know how important sleep is to me, especially with how busy we are touring and everything," he said, sounding like a five year old who'd just had his favorite toy taken away.

"You're right, I'm sorry, I um…Don, what would you do if I died?" she asked, surprised at her own forwardness. There was a dead, awkward silence from the other line.

"Um, sweetheart, what are you talking about?" he asked, almost laughing. "Dying? Since when are you going to die any time soon?" he asked, as if the idea were ludicrous. Hermione's heart sank a few inches into her stomach.

"Well, I mean, like if I were to die next Thursday, how would you feel? I mean, what would you do? Would you miss me?" she asked desperately. Another awkward silence took over the phone line as Don opened and closed his mouth, searching hard for words.

"Honey, why don't we talk about this in the morning, after we've both gotten some sleep and can discuss this sensibly, all right?" he said finally. "You seem a bit exhausted, and I'm tired myself, so let's just let it rest until the morning. I love you Herm," he said, and Hermione felt, if just for a fleeting moment, that Don was trying to rush her off the phone. She of course ignored this, and the feeling of her heart sinking further into her chest.

"Yeah, you're right. Tomorrow then. We'll both be awake and logical. I'm sorry I called you so late—er, early. I love you too," she said, and right as her lips prepared to speak her goodbye, she heard the receiver click on the other end. She looked at the phone, sighed, and set it down on its base. Maybe he's right, this is all ludicrous. How did I get so carried away? She pulled back the covers and laid down, closed her eyes and tried to get to sleep, thinking that maybe, just maybe, it would all go away in the morning.

Boy, how wrong she was about that.

Okay guys, I hope you liked that! If you did, review and let me know. If not, review, and…let me know. Either way, review! I want reviews! And make sure to stay tuned for next chapter, when we get even more surprises! It'll be fun, I swear. Really. I bet my life on it.