"I don't know. Hellgates can't be real. If they were, a wizard surely couldn't ever close one. It'd take something like an Elf or Fae magic to accomplish something that extraordinary…why that face? Yes, I said Elf. We don't keep house Elves in our home. Dad says the rest of the wizarding world is wrong. That Elf magic is frightening. Everything that they can do…"

-Angelina Johnson

Chapter 18: Fight Club

DADA classes from then on have been my least favorite class. I was always on edge and always uncomfortable. Every instinct I had always told me that I was in immediate danger every time I got anywhere near Professor Quirrell. I think this is the feeling you get when you know someone doesn't like you. He avoided me in general and there were no more classroom demonstrations like before. It was business as usual.

I never even got in trouble for punching Zacharias. His nose was purple, and he sported two black eyes, but I didn't get called down to the headmaster's office or anything.

It almost seemed like Professor Quirrell wanted to forget the whole thing happened.

I'd like that, but everyone had heard.

There were some benefits. The other Hufflepuff first-years left me to myself. I think they might even be afraid of me a little. That was fine. I was a little afraid of myself after the whole thing.

Cedric wasn't pleased but I was getting more and more used to disappointing him. He sat me down and explained that I was going to notice things change with my magic, physically, over the next few years. It was one of the reasons why every Hufflepuff drank from the fountain. It's supposed to help us realize our greatest potential, among other things. He wouldn't mention what those other things were. But it made sense how I'd been able to reign in my impulse to have a vision in DADA class that day or how I'd stopped myself from having an episode that one time.

What Cedric found especially annoying were my new friends I'd made after punching Mr. Fakey-Mc-Fake-Face. There were three older boys waiting for me outside of my Care of Magical Creatures Class. Two Gryffindors, Nicholas and Kal, and one Ravenclaw, Errol. All three were the sole members of the Wizarding MMA Appreciation Club, or WMAC and they wanted me to join. Apparently, they were big fans of my father's? I wasn't sure what that meant but I mostly just met with them once a week before my after-class lessons in a small room behind the Owl feed storage shack. There were tons of posters of fighters all over the walls.

"MMA fighting is similar to what you might see in the Muggle world," said Kal. He was a muggle-born in his fourth-year. Same as Nicholas. I had never seen an MMA fight in the real world. It looked a little like boxing though. Except the fighter's gloves look different and they kick their feet.

Errol, a large fifth-year boy with an even larger gap-toothed smile, plucked a moving poster of a man swinging at the air. He looked just like- "This is for you," Errol smiled. "It's your father! He was my favorite fighter." I gingerly took the folding paper from him, afraid it would tear. It looked so old.

"This is my…Papa?"

Errol hadn't stopped yammering on. "MMA fighting takes extreme focus and even then, not all wizards can do it. You have to train and meditate regularly to even be considered a decent fighter. You have to be sharp and quick and have a library of spells memorized that you can pull on at a moment's notice. You have to be able to draw on intense emotions and twist them into powerful magic you can focus on certain points of your body. And you have to be of peak physical fitness. It all takes an incredible tole on your body."

Nicholas, also in his fourth-year, grabbed me excitedly by the shoulders. "You are part of the 20% of the wizarding population even capable of fighting. Isn't that awesome? You're special Mary!"

I looked down at my seer's bracelet feeling troubled. Being special was getting real old.

The remainder of the meeting was spent trash talking Quidditch and checking the club treasury to see how much money they had left to raise to afford tickets now that they needed four. They were hoping we could all attend a match this winter break. Matches got expensive but didn't provide the same sort of space that allowed for super cheap seats.

It seemed my circle was growing wider. Even some Slytherin students seemed to be warming up to me. I was the girl that used wandless magic, to punch loud mouth Zach in the face, in defense of Daphne Greengrass, a fellow Slytherin girl. By Halloween, I was excitedly skipping to the Owlery to see Owl. He was back from an errand he'd flown on for Dean. I stood aside while two twin Gryffindor boys I vaguely recognized came bounding down the stairs. They took one look at me and burst into chuckles. "M'lady," one winked before they continued down. Those boys, I heard, loved pranks. They turned Hannah's hair gray because they thought she reminded them of a nervous old woman. They were worse than Peeves. He was a ghost that liked to play cruel jokes on students, though we always seemed to just miss each other. Barely missing set buckets of water over doors or powder bombs leaves me thinking my heavenly guardian angel must not have completely abandoned me yet. I was baptized after all.

In my hand I had three hand written letters to send. One was a brief letter to Mrs. Finnigan in response to the one she sent Seamus to give to me. It was a couple short lines about how she hoped I was doing well. To keep up my studies and to make sure to look after my health. It was really short. Mama always wrote such lengthy handwritten notes to people. Sometimes I found myself missing her. Enclosed was also a permission slip to go to Hogsmeade in December. A couple of the older kids had talked about how they couldn't wait to go. It was like a little wizard town where you could buy heretic goods.

The second letter was to Nymphadora Tonks. I had to go to Headmaster Dumbledore to ask how to send a letter and if she might care if I wrote her and how to spell her name. I thought for a moment if I might write Kingsley too, but I suppose I wasn't too nice to Nymphadora and so it was best I write her first. Dumbledore tells me she was also a Hufflepuff during her time. I wrote a decent sized letter to thank her for bringing me to England and to apologize for mistaking her for a demon. She may have been some sort of advocate for Satan, but I was no different at this point. I also asked her what her time in Hufflepuff was like, and if she had any tips or tricks I could use to make my time here easier.

The third letter was a random thank you note to Mr. Ollivander at the wand library. I wanted to thank him again for trusting me with a special wand even if it hadn't done anything quite special yet. I also wanted to ask after his health, and to make sure he was doing well. His small store was quite dusty and it's not so good for the lungs when you're older like him. I even included a small dusting spell I'd learned to help him keep his shop spotless.

Owl was perched on a high ledge but seemed to perk up when he saw me. I held a hand full of treats out. He hopped up and down, flapping his wings agitatedly but eating the treats none the less. It seemed Owl shared my gluttony more than it could hold a grudge. "I'm sorry Owl," I chirped, excited to have a pet eat from my palm for the first time. "I'll try to make more time for you."

A few more treats and an attachment of my letters and he was off. As I watched Owl fly off into the distance, I noticed a small familiar spec marching across the grounds that I hadn't seen all day. "Leanne…" It was a whisper on my own lips as I tried to recall why I hadn't noticed her missing from any of our classes today. Her presence had become so small in this recent week, it was like she had shrunk herself out of anyone's notice. Or at least out of mine.

"One of you is going to die before the school year is out."

I was too busy soaking up my recent success with ranking highest out of all the Hufflepuff first years, being the cool kid that punched another student with special wandless magic and making all these cool new friends. I had allowed for one of the kindest people here to melt away. The only Hufflepuff first year to still speak to me, share a smile with me, when no one else would. I watched her sure steps and a sense of foreboding overcame me.

Quickly as I could, I ran down from the owlery. It was almost time for dinner and I knew exactly where that jerk Maxwell would be. In the Great Hall, hogging the dinner rolls.

As soon as I rounded the corner and pushed passed the students filing in for the evening meal, I saw Maxwell Creevy, eating rolls directly out of the basket he'd pulled in front of himself. That was in no way a likeness of myself and my love of bread.

I marched right over and snatched the basket away from him. "What the hell do you think you're doing, pip-squeak?"

"Leanne's been missing from all of her classes today," I sneered, ignoring his insult, "And then earlier I saw her outside. Where is she going?"

Maxwell's face turned a bit sour, but he managed to grab the bread basket back. "We're not attached at the hip, you know? Besides, what the hell do you care? She doesn't even like you."

"Yeah, and I'm sure you had nothing to do with that," I accused. He let it roll off him, unaffected. "Besides, you haven't said that you don't know what she's up to, now out with it already."

Maxwell chewed slowly, scanning the room. I'm almost sure he was looking for Cedric. A slow smile crept upon his face. "Fine, you want to know that badly do you, Number One." I tried to remain stern but his sudden and immediate helpfulness threw me for a loop. "Leanne came to me begging for a way that she could prove herself more capable than any of you lot. She was desperate for a way to show you up in particular. The precious McGowen who's only been ranked first because of your birth parents." Maxwell shook the crumbs from his robes. "So, I told her, if she wanted to show she was better than any of you, she had to do something that none of you have yet to accomplish."

"And what is that?" I'd had enough of him dancing around the issue.

His smile turned patronizing. "A Task, stupid girl. She's on her way to complete her first Task."