Part Six:

Angelica found it nearly impossible to concentrate on anything but Professor Trelawney's words. Though she had never told anyone, she did have the blood of a Seer in her, or at least according to family stories her great-grandmother used to make accurate but vague predictions. In fact, her premonitions were one of the first ways she noticed that she, like her mother she was a witch. But could it be true? This time could she really have foretold her own doom?

Classes had finished for the day and Angelica was heading towards the Great Hall for dinner, walking down the cold, empty corridor, letting her hand run across the stones in the wall. Should she take Fiona's word and go talk to Quirrell about her dream?

As if to answer her, she heard hurried footsteps coming towards her and then a trembling hand grasped her right shoulder. "A-A-Angelica! M-might I have a-a-a word with y-you?" Quirrell asked.

She turned to face him, and she nodded in all seriousness.

Without saying a word, he led her to a place she hadn't been in nearly two years - his office. The room was different than before, the same desk and chairs were there, but now there were many herbs and flowers scattered around the room, as well as a sloppy stack of books. Quirrell got out his wand and moved quickly, in a clockwise motion, lighting several different types of incense, while muttering something inaudible. Angelica was too confused to ask what this was all about, so she stood nervously until he was finished with his ritual.

"S-s-sit down," he said motioning towards one of the chairs. Being back in that room, back in that chair, felt like old times, comforting, in a way. "I-I-I wa-wanted to s-s-ee you b-because of what h-happened bef-fore C-c-christmas holiday."

Angelica felt her cheeks flush. "Yes, Quirinus?" she asked, trying to sound like a calm adult.

"W-what I was d-doing there w-was s-s-something of a protection enchantment. T-though I c-c-ant tell you w-what." He sighed. "I-I think you can help me."

"Me? B-but I'm only a fifth year, what do I know about advanced magic?"

Quirrell leaned forward, towards her and brought a quivering finger to her lips. "No, it's not about what you can do, but what you are," he said, stutter gone. "Now, will you help me?"

There was a pause, and she just stared at him and blinked, not even sure of what was happening. "Yes, yes of course I'll help you - but I don't know how I sho-"

He cut her off, took her hands and stood her up. "I-I-I knew I c-could count on y-you A-A-Angie," Quirrell told her, with a strange sense of hope in his voice. He embraced her and she felt her body become slightly limp. "Be at the library tonight at eight. I'll explain the rest then," he whispered in her ear and then his lips slowly lingered on her cheek. With his hands on her shoulders, he gave her a pained smile and asked her to leave.

"Where have you been?" Oliver asked Angelica as she joined her friends (who were nearly finished) at dinner that evening.

"Oh, right, I um, I needed to ask Professor Quirrell about something..." she answered vaguely and then got started on her warm dinner roll.

"Oh?" Oliver screwed up his mouth. "What about?"

Angelica flushed and she became extremely focused on her roll.

"She, ah, needed to inquire on something for Professor Trelawney," Fiona lied.

Jonathan, on Fiona's left side, raised his eyebrows but didn't contradict her. "I think we've got a great shot at winning the cup this year," he commented. And those were the magic words to get Oliver going on a different subject.

As they walked out of the Great Hall, Fiona subtly pulled Angelica aside. "So, did you talk to him about your dream?"

"What? Oh no! I completely forgot" Angelica said, ashamed.

"Well, then what were you two talking about?" Fiona said confused, as she leaned up against a column.

"I'm not exactly sure. I'll see you later though, I've got to look something up at the library," she whispered and ran off.

Quarter 'till nine and there was still no sign of Quirrell in the library. There was hardly anyone else there either, possibly because it was almost closing time, but still it seemed oddly empty. Angelica had decided to pretend to study while she waited. So there she sat, aimlessly, anxiously staring at a very thick and old book called The Magical Household. Snape suspiciously passed by, glaring at her.

She seriously debated leaving for a while after that thinking she may have misunderstood what Quirrell had asked her to do. At nine-thirty she got up and walked through the heavy double doors, only to smack right into Quirrell.

"Oh! I um," Angelica said, startled.

"No, it's my fault, Angelica. Come with me," Quirrell said, in an oddly calm voice.

This time the two of them didn't go to his office, they went to an empty classroom and from the stack of books piled high, it could be deduced that it was most likely Professor Flitwick's room. Quirrell shut the door to the moonlit room and slowly walked towards Angelica.

"N-n-now j-just s-s-stay still," he told her as he took out his wand.

Angelica's mouth went dry and her body felt like lead. "W-what are you doing?" she exclaimed, though she didn't try to run away.

"F-f-f-forgive me. Accio Rudictus!"

Angelica felt a stabbing pain in her side and then the room went black.