CHAPTER 26: PIECES
A skeletal woman, with humongous glasses that magnified her eyes and made them seem to bulge out of her head, colourful bangles that swathed her arms, glittering rings that covered her fingers, innumerable chains and beads that wrapped around her neck, and a gossamer spangled shawl draped around her shoulders made her look quite the sight.
A large, glittering insect was the first thing that came to Buffy's mind, and she couldn't help but think back to the She-mantis that had come to Sunnydale High. The so-called Divination teacher in front of her didn't make Buffy's senses go wild; in fact, she seemed relatively normal, except for her awful fashion taste, which Buffy decided was downright scary.
Unfortunately, as she knew how to kill it, a She-mantis was crossed off her list as soon as the 'beast' in front of her opened her mouth. And started to scream.
Buffy had no idea what to do.
"Death! All I see is Death! You poor, poor child," Trelawney said, bringing her hand to her heart. "You shall not live for long; I can see that Death surrounds you and it will not let you go."
"Um, that's good to know," Buffy said, looking at the woman strangely. So maybe she wasn't a demon; she sure screamed like a regular woman.
"My dear! Why are you not worried?" Trelawney asked amazed. Everyone else was looking at Buffy with surprise evident on his or her own faces. To their knowledge, Harry had been the only one whose death was regularly predicted by the bug lady. "It is only a matter of time before your life is taken from you!"
'Again?' Buffy thought, slightly annoyed. "Everyone dies," Buffy said. "Some sooner than others." 'And some more than once,' Buffy thought with a scowl. All this talk about death kept bringing her mind back around to heaven and what it felt like, what it still felt like, being torn out of it.
It was an understatement of historic proportions to say that it was unpleasant.
"You should not walk away from something this serious," Trelawney cried, shocked at the woman's nonchalance. "Why are you so unconcerned?"
"It gets old after a while," Buffy called out, brushing past them. "You'd think someone would come up with something new by now," Buffy said absently, not knowing the others could hear her.
"What?" Hermione whispered quietly, mostly to herself.
"I'm a Seer!" Trelawney cried, desperate to be believed. "I can see the future!"
"Then what will I wear tomorrow? It might save me some time to search through my closet," Buffy said over her shoulder.
"You won't make it to Christmas, my dear," Trelawney continued to call out, tears forming in her eyes. "You should be careful who you trust, for the ones you love will betray you."
At that, Buffy paused in thought. She remembered her old Divination teacher when she was at school. She had taken it for part of third year before getting sick and tired of the death predictions and prophecies of doom that she picked up a different class instead. It was starting again and she didn't like it. This new Divination professor even said some of the same things her old one had. It was creepy and she was getting a little frustrated and angry. Who were they to dictate her life? Prophecies and predictions were never good; it did not do to dwell on things and forget to live. That's what happened when one believed in a prophecy, one believed that there was no way to change the outcome, although she was a prime example that that was not the case.
She turned around and stalked back towards the insect-like creature.
"So, do you know how I'm going to die? I mean, if one of my friends is going to kill me, I should at least know how, right? Or better yet, who? Who's going to do it? Who's going to kill me? And why? You're the Seer, aren't you? So tell me, how am I going to die? Is it going to be painful? Do you think it'll hurt? Do you think I'll go to Heaven?" Buffy nearly shouted.
"You're not good for anything," Buffy said quieter since she got no response. "You can't tell me anything useful, can you? Just that I'm going to die before Christmas. Which Christmas? This one, the next one, the one ten years from now? I'd like a date and time if at all possible, just so I can be prepared."
Once again she was met by silence, so Buffy took one last look at the Seer and walked away, hearing her mutter, "So much pain and darkness. Stay away from her; Death's not letting go," as she walked up the stairs, opting to skip dinner. Buffy's mind was whirling. She wasn't stupid enough to dismiss everything the thing had to say, but she wasn't going to become paranoid over it. She knew that now more than ever she had been right in worrying about who to trust. 'Be careful who you trust,' the Seer had said. Giles, Xander, Willow, Anya, even Faith, were the ones she trusted. They wouldn't betray her; they'd been through too much together for her not to realize that. She didn't know what anyone else would do; she'd trust no one else.
Dumbledore watched her go; he had been watching the exchange with curious eyes and he still could not figure her out. Every day he seemed to see a different side of Professor Fox and none of them seemed to match up. It was frustrating, as he had no idea whether or not she could be trusted. Especially around his students. Who's side was she on?
"Well," Dumbledore said, trying to lighten the mood and break the tension, "I believe dinner is waiting, as are our friends and colleagues. If you will," he said, gesturing towards the door. Surprisingly enough, the commotion had gone unnoticed by the rest of the castle; perhaps, the noise in the Great Hall overruled the screams coming from Trelawney, or perhaps the doors to the Great Hall blocked the sound; they were very solid and thick.
The trio pushed open the doors and filed into the Hall; they didn't talk until they sat down at the table. Amazingly enough, Dumbledore acted as if nothing had happened; as if their Divination professor hadn't predicted the death of the DADA professor, who went crazy at the news.
"What do you make of that?" Ron asked, breaking the thoughtful silence of the group.
"I don't know," Hermione said with a shake of her head. "It sounded like she had gotten that warning before, or perhaps a similar warning of death..." Hermione trailed off, lost in her thoughts.
"Don't you think it's weird, though?" Ron asked. "I mean, she's never really predicted the death of anyone besides Harry, for obvious reasons."
"She thought she'd be considered legit if she predicted something correctly, so she chose the most obvious thing," Harry finished for him.
"It's a good thing you're so stubborn," Ron said with a slight smile.
"I get it from my dad's side," Harry joked half-heartedly.
"I don't get it!" Hermione said suddenly, very frustrated. "Who is she?" she hissed. "Why would Trelawney predict her death? It's not like she's ever accurate, but she's done the same thing to you over and over again. But everyone knows You-Know-Who is after you. Why would she have to worry about betrayal and death?"
"Maybe she's been associating with some bad people," Ron said.
"Trelawney did say something about darkness and staying away from her," Harry said. "Maybe you were right before; maybe she is a spy for Voldemort," Harry said, getting frustrated when his friends flinched. "Would you please stop that?" he finally asked. "It's just a name."
"Sorry," Hermione apologized, abashed.
"Of course Hermione's right," Ron said. "When is she ever wrong?"
"So should we tell someone?" Hermione said.
"Who're we going to tell? Dumbledore was right there with us," Harry said. He was still angry at the headmaster for making him take more lessons with Snape. He was only bad at Potions because Snape was an awful professor; if he was going to take Remedial Potions, he'd do better with a different teacher.
"I'm not hungry," Harry said, pushing his plate away, thoughts of his lesson running through his head.
"Me neither," Hermione said.
"Well, one of us has got to eat," Ron said as the two looked at him, almost expectantly.
"Don't wait up for me," Harry said. "I don't know when I'll be done." Harry got up from the table to go back to the common room to grab some things before heading down to his lesson. He still had some time left.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Buffy!" Willow cried happily. "We weren't expecting you. How are you doing? Are you okay?"
"Yeah, you didn't look so good the other day," Anya pitched in.
"I'm fine," Buffy said.
"Are you sure? Cause that doesn't look like a happy Buffy," Xander said.
"It's nothing, I just met the Divination professor; another prophecy foretelling my doom. She wouldn't even tell me when," Buffy said lightly, trying to make it seem unimportant.
"Don't you hate it when that happens?" Xander joked, although he did exchange a worried look with Willow. She couldn't die again. They needed her.
"Yeah, it's a real drag. So, Willow, how's it coming?"
"Oh," Willow said, startled by the abrupt change of subject. "Well, not as well as I had hoped."
"We knew it wouldn't be easy," Buffy said. "It'll take some time."
"I know, but I think you're going to have to do it."
"What? Why me?"
"Well, you've grown up around this type of magic and you know more about it than me. This is extremely complicated and I'm not sure if I'm the right person for it."
"And you think I am?" Buffy asked with wide eyes.
"Well, yes. But I'll be there to help you," Will said quickly as she noticed Buffy start to protest. "Plus, I can't get everything I might need. The Apothecary in Diagon Alley doesn't carry some of the more... questionable items."
"Right, well, I think I can get whatever you need at Hogwarts. Snape probably has everything you've ever dreamed about having. He's really into potions."
"That's good. Maybe you could come by every night so that we could do some experimenting. This is more in your territory than it is in mine."
"I thought Potions would be right up your alley, with all the stuff you've done over the years."
"Yes and no," Willow said, fiddling with her hands. "I've done simple things that required common ingredients,"
"I get scared when she includes eye of newt with the common ingredients," Xander said.
"Well, compared to some of the ingredients I saw in the Apothecary, eye of newt is just trivial. Potions are very delicate, especially something like this. One wrong ingredient could create something awful. I don't know what all the ingredients do, what happens when you mix them or the special things that you have to do to some before adding them. It's really complicated. Wicca is easy compared to this stuff."
"Okay," Buffy said. "I'll do it, but I'll still need your help."
"Done," Willow said with a relieved smile. She didn't like playing with ingredients that she didn't know. She'd probably poison them all accidentally.
"Well, let's get started, shall we?"
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"That's strange," someone muttered after Dumbledore finished telling the incident with Professors Fox and Trelawney to the other members of the Order.
"Indeed," Dumbledore said thoughtfully.
"You don't believe her, do you Albus?" McGonagall asked, amazed. "I mean, she's never been the most... astute person; I don't think we should rely on her... abilities to assess the situation correctly," she said, trying to sum up her thoughts nicely.
"As... flighty, as Sybil appears to be, she has proven to be adept at her profession." Hearing McGonagall's disbelieving snort, he continued, "I believe she has given a prophecy or two in her life; one of which was given to Mr. Potter during his third year exam. And it proved to be true."
"Just because she gives one correct statement doesn't mean we must believe everything that comes from her mouth," she argued.
"It just means that we should place some credibility to her words."
"She's been predicting Potter's death since she first laid eyes on him. He's not dead yet, and won't be anytime soon if I have anything to say about it."
"Well, there has been the constant threat to his life, so perhaps we are safe in assuming that there is a threat to Professor Fox's life."
"Why would anyone want to kill her?" Moody asked.
"Apart from the obvious, you mean?" McGonagall interrupted bitterly.
"I don't believe you've ever even talked to her, Minerva," Dumbledore said. "There is something about her that strikes me and I cannot discover what it is. It is actually quite frustrating."
"The question is do we want to save her," Tonks spoke up. "Who's side is she on?"
"I believe the priority is finding out who she is," Moody said. "If we figure that out, it'll be easier to answer the first question."
"I was lucky enough to run into young Mr. Creevy," Dumbledore said. "He was kind enough to provide me with a picture of our Professor." Dumbledore placed a brand new photo on the table, allowing people to pass it around to examine.
One by one, people shook their heads. Moody stared at it for a long, long time. A memory of some kind seemed to flicker on the edge of his mind, but the harder he tried to get it, the farther away it went. Pretty soon, all he felt was frustrated for not being able to recognize her.
"I can take it to work and ask around," Mr. Weasley said. "If she's got any friends at the Ministry."
"If she even works there," Moody growled.
"Then I can get some information about her," Arthur finished. "It might not be much, but it's a start."
Dumbledore nodded. "Everyone keep their eyes and ears open. If she's a spy, it's best to know about it as soon as possible. If she can be an ally, even better."
"How did Remus' mission go?" Molly asked suddenly, missing the werewolf.
"I don't think it was very fruitful," Dumbledore said. "Pettigrew lead him all over Europe and he had no luck catching him. I believe he was cornered in Italy, but Remus managed to escape. He should be here any moment. Sirius is waiting for him by the fireplace. I believe he thought it better than listening into another meeting."
"We really should do something," McGonagall said. "We can't keep him locked up here by himself. He's not a patient person, if you remember."
"I agree. Remus will keep him company for the time being, but other than that, I'm afraid there's nothing we can do. Everyone's on the lookout for him, and by now all the Death Eaters have memorized his animagus form. It's unfortunate, but that's the way it is."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The next morning, Ron and Harry found Hermione sitting on a couch, scratching away on some piece of parchment; however, there weren't any school books around.
"What are you working on?" Harry asked.
"My essay for Defence class," Hermione said absently.
"You're actually going to do it?" Ron asked amazed. Off Harry's look he added, "Right, dumb question, don't know what I was thinking. But, really Hermione. It's not even due. She's not going to look at it; we don't have to do it. There's not even extra credit involved."
Hermione finally glanced up and frowned at them. "So? I think it's a good assignment, and you should take the time to do it. I think you'd discover quite a bit about yourself," she said, glancing at Harry quickly.
"I know enough about myself already and that's just another two essays that I'm not required to do," Ron said, flopping down into a chair.
"You're doing it, aren't you Harry?" Hermione asked. Harry just shrugged his shoulders uncertainly, causing Hermione to sigh. "Why not? I should think you of all people should do this. I think it's very useful."
"You think everything is very useful," Ron said.
"Divination's not."
"Well, let's see what you've come up with," Ron said, dropping that subject. He tried to reach for the parchment but Hermione pulled it away, a blush creeping up to her cheeks.
"No, it's mine. You're not supposed to read it."
"Hermione, it's just a stupid assignment and we're your best friends."
"No. You won't even think about doing it, so why should I show you mine? You'll probably just make fun of me."
"Fine, look I'll do it right here and now," Ron said. "The worst thing that could happen to me would be that my family was all killed and I'd be the only one left," Ron said fairly casually. Sure he'd be upset if his whole family was gone, but they weren't and it wasn't going to happen. The possibility was there, especially with Voldemort back, but it wasn't likely. It was just a stupid homework assignment, anyway.
"Now what could make that worse?" Hermione said.
"I just told you that was the worst thing," Ron said, confused. "What's worse than having your whole family taken from you?" Ron asked, forgetting about Harry for a moment.
Hermione, however, didn't. She snuck a glance at Harry, who was trying hard to keep his emotions hidden. "A lot of things, Ron, it just depends on the person," she told him. "This is part of the assignment. You have to keep going until you've finished."
"Fine. I'm all alone and giant spiders come and attack me."
"Ron!" Hermione said.
"What? I hate spiders!"
"You're useless," she complained. "What about Harry and me?"
"Oh, right," Ron said. "It'd be worse if you and Harry were killed too, but I considered you as part of my family." Ron was starting to be a little less nonchalant about the whole mess. It wasn't easy to be talking about everyone he loved being dead.
"Okay, good, now what's worse?"
"What's worse than that?" Ron asked.
"Well, how would you feel? Would that be it for you? Is that your reason to switch sides? Because they killed your family?"
Ron was beginning to squirm in his seat a little and Harry remained quiet.
"I don't know, I don't want to think about it," Ron confessed.
"Well, what if it happens? You have to be prepared."
"What did you write?" Ron asked, switching the conversation from himself to her.
"Well, I went a little more detailed then you, but I'm still not done."
"So, give us what you've got."
"Okay," Hermione said slowly. "Everyone I loved is dead."
"That's the same thing I said!" Ron said defensively.
"But they're dead because of me. Someone made me kill them." This quieted Ron and he knew he had yet to find the worst thing. Harry's next idea came close.
"What if no one made you do it," he said quietly. So far, their discussion had tended to run along the lines of how his life was. His parents had been murdered, the only family he had was the Durselys, but they didn't count. Cedric was dead because of him; true, he hadn't said the curse, but he might as well have. More people were going to die because Voldemort was back, once again, thanks to him. He knew his life hadn't been wonderful, but he was surprised that he was able to last this long. Looking up, he realized that it was because he did have some family left. He still had Ron, Hermione and Sirius. Even Dumbledore.
Hermione was the one that finally broke the silence, choosing to switch to a different subject. "How was your lesson last night?"
"Awful, but I didn't have Potions," Harry said, lowering his voice even more.
"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, confused.
"I'm taking Occlumency, but I have to tell everyone that I'm taking Remedial Potions. No one's supposed to know what I'm doing. But now, I have to take it two times a week because I'm awful at it. Apparently Dumbledore wants me to be good at it really soon."
"Why do you need Occlumency?"
"I guess so that Voldemort stops going into my mind."
"That makes sense," Hermione said. "Then your dreams will stop and you won't be influenced by him. I wonder... I wonder if it would stop your scar from burning."
"I doubt it," Harry said. "It hurts even when I'm near him, not just when I have a dream."
"True," Hermione said. "Why would Dumbledore want you to start now? Why not earlier?"
"I don't know," Harry said. "I can't believe he wouldn't teach me himself, I mean, what does he expect me to learn from Snape?"
"He must be good at Occlumency," Hermione said. "Otherwise Voldemort would see right through his thoughts and discover he was a spy."
"Yes, but I'm sure Dumbledore's even better, and he knows we can't stand each other. He's a slimy git!" Harry said.
"I'm sure he has his reasons," Hermione said.
"But what are they? I wish he would tell me!"
Hermione's eyes widened in realization. "Maybe that's why he hasn't told you anything!" she said excitedly. "Whatever he tells you has the possibility of transferring back to you, so he won't tell you anything until you've mastered Occlumency. If I were you, I'd work really hard."
"You're probably right," Harry said, upset that he'd actually have to work with Snape in order to get information. What a horrible trade off.
"Just think, the harder you work, the more you practice, the sooner you'll have all the answers," Hermione said. "And with two lessons a week, you're bound to improve quickly."
"I'm glad I'm not you, mate," Ron said, staring at Harry with pity. "Two extra lessons, and those times you'll be by yourself." Ron shivered in horror. "I don't think I could take it."