PART ONE: IN VITAM

Chapter IV: Seven of Swords Upright

"Where were you last night?"

I had a distinct sense of déjà vu as I woke up the next morning.

The tall, blonde girl, who I'd learned was named Greta Catchlove, had asked the question as she watched me roll out of bed.

"I was studying on the seventh floor," I said, fighting back a yawn. "I dozed off on my copy of Advanced Potions-Making."

"You look exhausted," said Dorcas. She was perched on the end of her bed, pulling on her socks and shoes. "Sleep is just as important as studying."

I nodded through a yawn. Then, I grabbed my things and headed to the lavvy to get ready for the day. When I looked in the mirror, I saw dark shadows under my eyes, and my muscles had a dull ache to them. This was a different body than the one I was used to. My old body, pale and boney, had become accustomed to sleepless nights. But this new one…it seemed to want something from me, but I didn't know what.

Dorcas had waited for me in the common room. Jenn Creswell, the missing dormmate from yesterday, stood with her. I sent a silent thanks to the both of them as I didn't think I was ready to find the Great Hall on my own just yet.

"You really should stop staying out late to study," said Dorcas as she led the way out of the common room.

"Sorry," I said. "Yesterday was rough, and I really wanted to make sure I could do the Blood-Replenishing Potion right today."

"Oh, right," said Dorcas. "Lily told me about that. She hoped it wasn't bothering you too badly. Everyone has an off day now and again."

I fought back a laugh. I was about to have an off month. "Thanks. But you lot really don't need to worry about me."

Dorcas looked as though she wanted to say more, but she must have decided to let it rest. She fell into silence as we walked down the long, empty corridor.

"What a lovely day," said Jenn, gazing out the windows at the blue September sky. "I think I'll go down to the grounds after breakfast. Do you think the bowtruckles will be out this morning?"

Her airy tone caught me off guard, and it took me a moment to register the question.

"I don't know," I said.

"You should use your free periods to study, Jenn," said Dorcas. Even as she nagged, her voice was warm.

"I am studying," said Jenn. "Sketching helps me study for Care of Magical Creatures."

"And what about Charms and Transfiguration?" asked Dorcas.

"I can charm the pencil to draw, and I can transfigure the drawing to move. What more do I need?" said Jenn with a smile. Then, seeing the shock on Dorcas's face, she added, "Don't fret, Dory. I'll get all my homework done in time for class."

"You mean minutes before class," muttered Dorcas.

"As long as it gets done," said Jenn.

I watched the way Dorcas's dark eyes followed Jenn and how Jenn snuck a glance at Dorcas. A question formed at the tip of my tongue, but then I decided to keep silent. Talking too much, especially about people's personal matters, only increased the odds of me screwing up. I needed to keep a balance. Say enough that no one became suspicious, but not enough that I gave away the truth.

Marlene's friends sat at the Hufflepuff table that morning, so the Marauders didn't join us—news I welcomed with great relief. I'd be in big trouble if James started asking me in-depth questions about Quidditch. I noticed, however, that the boy in question kept sending meaningful glances in our direction. If he wanted to get Lily's attention, however, he was fighting a losing battle.

Jenn stayed long enough to grab an apple and piece of toast before heading out the school grounds. Dorcas watched her leave the Great Hall, while Lily and Mary poured over that morning's Daily Prophet.

"Anything of interest?" I asked as I made myself a cup of tea.

"No brutal murders, if that interests you," said Mary bitterly.

Lily pursed her lips before saying, "More warnings about how we should have pre-arranged questions to ask friends and family to ensure no one's a Death Eater in disguise."

"Should we make-up a question?" asked Mary.

"We're students still in Hogwarts," said Dorcas. "You really think a Death Eater is going to use Polyjuice Potion to pretend to be one of us?"

I tried to smile like this was a hilarious joke.

"I don't think a Death Eater would," said Mary. "But I wouldn't put it past those Slytherins to think it funny to put one of us under the Imperius Curse." She sent a quick glance across the hall.

Both Lily and Dorcas's gazes had darkened at Mary's comment. I mirrored their expressions, but inside, my brain was spinning. Based on their comments, one of the Slytherins must have done something to muggleborn Mary in the past. I wanted to know what had happened, but I could hardly ask straight up.

Unfortunately, none of Marlene's friends felt the need to discuss the incident further, and the rest of breakfast was spent complaining about the seventh-year workload. I listened carefully, gathering every scrap of information that I could and throwing in a "yeah" or a head nod every once in awhile for good measure.

The school day began with double Potions. Everyone else completed the second part of their potions in the first period and spent the rest of the time in study hall. In the two-hour block, I proudly completed both the first and seconds stages of the Blood Replenishing potion. By the end of class, Slughorn stood over my cauldron of dark red liquid and rambled on about how he knew I had it in me.

When we left the dungeons, Mary said goodbye, and Lily and I made our way to the moving staircases for Ancient Runes. Students crowded the corridors, all pushing and shoving to get to their classrooms. I thought I heard someone call my name through the loud buzz of conversation, but I figured I'd imagined it. Who would want to talk to me?

"You did so well with your potion today," said Lily when we'd managed to separate ourselves from the crowd. "Is that what you stayed up late working on last night?"

"To be honest, I didn't think I'd be able to do it." I immediately regretted those words. It was true: I'd worried that I wouldn't retain what I'd learned while wearing the diadem. But I didn't want Lily to know that.

"Why do you say that?" asked Lily. "You've always been good at Potions."

"I struggled so much in class yesterday."

"Everyone has a bad day now and again. Don't take it to heart."

People needed to stop saying that to me. Unfortunately, as I'd spent all of yesterday focused on learning basic spells and practicing the Blood Replenishing Potion, I hadn't had a chance to open the Ancient Runes textbook. Four years' worth of runes that I was supposed to have memorized, and of course, I knew absolutely nothing. This class was about to be a bin fire.

"Marlene!"

I looked over my shoulder—wondering who could possibly want to talk to me—and found James Potter jogging up the staircase. Sirius, his shaggy, black hair falling into his eyes, trailed after his best friend. I glanced over at Lily, certain that I'd misheard, because James Potter couldn't possibly want to talk to me while Lily Evans was around. However, when he caught up to us, it was, in fact, me that James addressed.

"Marle, why didn't you show up for our run this morning?"

I opened my mouth and then quickly shut it. Running? With James Potter? When did this happen? Also, wasn't he supposed to be head-over-heels for Lily? Why was he talking to me and not swooning over her?

"I know you had a tough summer, mind," James rambled on. "But I thought you'd at least tell me if you didn't want to go on our morning runs anymore. You never miss. Not even when you were being distant—" He broke off when Lily gave him a warning look.

Oh hell. Marlene McKinnon had no problem writing all about her family and making sure I could catch up on coursework, but she never thought to tell me that morning runs with James Potter were part of her weekly schedule.

"Sorry," I said at last. "I stayed up late studying, and I slept in this morn."

"She was practicing the Blood-Replenishing Potion," said Lily helpfully.

I was still trying to figure out why James wanted to talk to me and not Lily. Everything I'd ever read in the Harry Potter books said that James had been an absolute fool around Lily. And yet, here he was talking to me and not even greeting Lily yet. As the gears started turning in my head, it occurred to me that maybe my image of James from the books hadn't been entirely accurate.

"Sorry," I said again. "I really didn't mean to ditch you."

A look of relief passed over James's face, and then he gave me a beaming smile. "Good."

I wondered if I could get out of this. In my previous life, the only time I'd run was when they made us do laps in P.E., and even then, my friends and I had walked as much of it as we could get away with. However, Marlene had already quit Quidditch and abandoning the morning runs on top of that might raise some questions.

"Can we run on weekends?" I asked, my voice unnaturally cheerful. "Since I won't have classes to study for then. When are Gryffindor practices?"

"Mostly at night this year," said James. "Slytherin and Hufflepuff have the morning time slots. I guess we don't have to plan around Hufflepuff Quidditch practices anymore." He added the last part bitterly. After a warning look from Lily, he changed his tone and asked, "How's Saturday morning for you? At seven?"

The idea of waking up before seven made me want to vomit. However, James's grin was infectious and I found it in me to smile. "Should we meet outside the Great Hall?"

"Where else?"

And there it was. I had committed to a morning run with James Potter. My Potterhead friend would be dying of jealously if she could see me now.

"Glad we got that sorted," said Sirius, running a hand through his hair. "James was sulking all morning."

"I was not," said James even as he wore a broad grin. He looked over a Lily, and his smile widened when he saw that she returned it.

"Did you get a chance to talk with Professor McGonagall about last week's detentions?" asked Lily as she and James led the way to the Ancient Runes classroom.

I didn't care to hear their Head Boy and Girl conversation, and I hung back to walk beside Sirius. He had dark shadows under his eyes, and his mouth stretched into a grim line. I wondered if I should ask him what was wrong—after all, Marlene probably would have asked—but I decided to stick to my own rules and stay out of other people's personal problems.

Instead, I said, "Thanks for your help in Potions yesterday. I was…" I winced. "…having an off day."

Sirius smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "No problem." He glanced up ahead where James and Lily chatted. Sirius jerked his head in their direction and asked, "How long do you think it'll take them to get together?"

"It'll happen this year," I said.

Sirius snorted. "Everyone knows that. She started getting soft on him last year. Once she stopped hanging out with Snivellus—"

"And James deflated his head a little." I knew that much from the books.

"A little."

I watched as Lily touched James's shoulder as she laughed. "I say they'll snog before Christmas."

Sirius scrunched up his face. "I was going to say that."

My eyes narrowed. "Were you trying to make a bet with me?"

"You figured it out. It could've been easy money." Sirius grinned at me then. His dark hair fell into his eyes, and I realized that he was just as handsome as the books described. However, rather than feel my heart race, I felt myself recoil. There was something about the arrogant twitch of his mouth that brought back unpleasant memories for me.

"Try someone else for your easy money," I muttered. Especially as I had no clue where Marlene kept hers.

Sirius ran a hand through his hair and then, with the barest hint of hesitation, asked, "Why did you quit the Quidditch team?"

I fought the urge to groan. Sirius was just as bad as his best friend. "I told you lot. I had a rough summer, and it didn't feel right to play Quidditch anymore. That's all there is to it."

Sirius nodded his head and left it at that. After a moment, however, he said, "James is going to have to find a new way to ferret out information on the Hufflepuff team now that you've quit."

It took a second for the words to compute, and then, it hit me like a brick. Running. Alone. With James Potter.

Oh hell. I was going to have to read up on Quidditch before Saturday.

I was right about the bin fire. I was absolute rubbish at Ancient Runes. The professor had given us texts to translate and then write a thousand-word response to, and I'd had to look up every single runic symbol I came across in the English to runes dictionary. By the end of class, Lily was halfway through writing her essay, while I hadn't even gotten two-thirds of the translation done. Lily kept giving me concerned glances, especially when I had to look up simple pronouns multiple times in the dictionary.

Charms went slightly better, at least. I'd learned the first-year spells last night, so I had a foundational understanding of how to cast, and my Bubblehead Charm actually caused bubbles to appear. Sure, the charm was supposed to make one big bubble around my head and not lots of little ones, but it certainly an improvement from Monday's disastrous wandwork.

After Charms, I parted ways with Marlene's friends and started the journey up to the seventh floor. I only knew the way because Helena had shown me the trapdoor last night. Unfortunately, she hadn't told me about the trick staircase, and I spent a good three minutes trying to unstick my foot.

Running late and dashing up the stairs to the seventh floor, one question still echoed through my head: who the hell takes NEWT-level Divination?

From what I remembered from the Harry Potter books, Divination was a complete joke. Of course, inventing gruesome deaths to impress Professor Trelawney would be far easier than any of my other classes. There were no complex recipes to follow or difficult spells to learn. I just had to go in there and lie my arse off. How hard could it be?

When I stood beneath the trapdoor, the hatch opened and a wooden staircase descended, granting me access to the circular classroom. The feeling of the room was different from what I'd imagined reading the Harry Potter books. I'd pictured a mix between an old attic and a teashop, but what I found instead was a cozy, library-style set up. The walls had been lined with shelves containing books, teapots, crystal balls, decks of cards, and all sorts of fortunetelling devices. Between the shelves were floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the Great Lake and the vast hills of Scotland. At the far end of the room stood a large mahogany desk for the professor, and in front of it were two round tables covered with violet tablecloths.

Three people already sat at the tables, their textbooks open to whatever chapter we were supposed to have read. At one table, two Ravenclaw girls chatted excitedly about the deck of what looked to be hand-painted cards placed in the center of the table. The other table had an empty chair that, I realized with a sinking feeling, was probably meant for me.

Already seated was a boy with a silver and green tie. His dark eyes lifted to meet mine and, with the slightest nod of his head, he said, "McKinnon."

I nodded my head in return as I moved to sit in the chair opposite him. There was something about his dark hair, styled in a neat combover, and his sharp cheekbones that seemed vaguely familiar. And then, I remembered I'd seen him in my Potions class, sitting with Snape and the other future Death Eaters.

Just my luck. Just my absolute fucking luck. Not only did Marlene fail to mention her weekly runs with James Potter, she also failed to mention that her Divination partner was a future Death Eater.

"Have a good weekend?" he asked as I rummaged through my magical bookbag, searching for the Divination textbook.

As I set the heavy book on the table, I glanced up and saw his heavy-lidded eyes fixed on me. My throat tightened, but I managed to choke out the words: "Could have been better."

He offered me a thin smile. "Was that why Slughorn had to vanish your potion yesterday?"

I resisted the urge to slam my head against the table. "Did everyone see that?"

His eyes narrowed ever so slightly before his mouth twisted into a mocking smile. "We all have bad days."

Something was very wrong. I couldn't put it into words exactly, but something about his eyes and the way he looked at me set my every nerve off with warning. This was dangerous. This boy was dangerous. I had been so preoccupied with whether Marlene's friends would figure out the truth that I hadn't thought to worry about her enemies.

I was saved from having to answer the Slytherin boy by a woman's husky voice calling out, "Good afternoon, class."

"Good afternoon, Professor Vablatsky," called out the two Ravenclaw girls.

All thoughts of danger disappeared from my head as I twisted in my seat to see the professor. Rather than a woman who resembled a glittering bug, a tall, handsome woman dressed in dark blue robes strode across the classroom to stand behind the mahogany desk. "I'm sorry to keep you inside on such a beautiful day, but Divination is not a subject that lends itself to the out of doors."

My heart sank. I'd forgotten that Professor Trelawney didn't start teaching at Hogwarts until after she made the prophecy about the Chosen One. This Professor Vablatsky seemed like a reasonable person and not the sort to hand out Exceeds Expectations to students who predicted doom and gloom.

"Today, we will continue our study of the tarot deck," said Vablatsky. "Last week, we focused on learning the various meanings behind the tarot cards, and now we will begin learning the basic three-card layout."

I did my best to concentrate as Vablatsky explained the meaning of the layout and what situations called for it. She read her own fortune for the year on her desk, explaining the position of each card, and going over the meaning behind the different card sets. One card represented the past, another the present, and another the future.

The whole thing seemed like a load of shit to me, but in a few minutes, I was going to have to convince a future Death Eater that I'd taken four years of Divination class. I needed every scrap of information I could get. I tried to memorize everything she said, repeating it over and over silently in the short amount of time I had. It wasn't nearly as efficient as the diadem, but I had to make do for now.

Finally, Vablatsky said those dreaded words, "You may now practice with your partner," and I turned to face the dark-haired boy in front of me.

He picked up the deck of cards and held them out to me. "Should I read first, or do you want to?"

How would Marlene treat this Slytherin boy? Two of her best friends were muggleborns and she got along with the Marauders, so I'd guess she wouldn't like a Slytherin who hung out with Snape. But she was a Hufflepuff and probably less upfront about her dislike than the brash Gryffindors.

I settled for a tone of polite dislike as I said, "You can read first."

His heavy gaze never left my face as he continued to hold up the deck for me. I stared at the cards. Their backs had been painted with swirls of yellow, green, and blue that resembled stars in a night sky. My throat tightened as panic washed over me. What was I supposed to do? I thought we'd agreed that he should read first? And then, in some small corner of my memory, I recalled something about shuffling the tarot deck. I don't know if it came from a TV show or some scrap of conversation with a friend, but I took the deck and started shuffling the cards.

"Where do we begin again?" the boy asked. His tone was polished, nothing like my Scottish accent or Dorcas's Bristol dialect. He was one of those people, from the way he held himself aloof to the way he spoke, that I instantly knew came from money. "What is a question bothering you today, McKinnon? Make sure to keep it vague. The tarot cards don't like specifics."

My jaw tightened. So many questions bothered me today. Who was this boy? What was he thinking? Had he figured something out? Had anyone? How long could I keep this act up? Would I learn seven years of coursework before anyone caught me? Would the diadem help me? Or would Voldemort's soul take hold? Would I save Marlene McKinnon's family? The questions spun around and around in my head, but in the end, I settled for the mundane: "How's my seventh year at Hogwarts going to go?"

His mouth quirked up slightly. However, he said nothing as he took the cards from me and flipped up the top one. I examined the card, upside down to me, bearing the painting of a red-haired man with a golden crown upon his brow and a circle containing a five-point star in his right hand. The boy flipped up the next card, and a skeleton holding a scythe stared up at me. The third and final card revealed the image of a sword holding a golden crown on its blade.

"The King of Pentacles reversed," the boy said, looking at the first card. He flipped through the pages of the textbook and read aloud: "'The King of Pentacles falls from his throne. Once the king of a prosperous kingdom, it has become lost to him. He may have been too impatient, he may have been too indulgent, he may have sought shortcuts that led him to ruin.' It seems you have a past of greed and indulgence." He smirked. "That sounds exactly like you, McKinnon."

His voice dripped with sarcasm, but even if it didn't sound like Marlene, it certainly sounded like me. I stared at the king's dark blue robes as I remembered all the days I'd skipped work to drink with my ex and all the times I'd ignored calls from friends when they needed me most. My fingers curled against the asphalt road as I clung to that sorry life.

I snapped back to the present when the boy said, "Death upright." His dark eyes scanned my face and he paused, as if for dramatic effect, before saying, "Beginnings, change, transformation. You're going through a change, leaving your past behind so that a new version of you can be created."

Tarot cards were a load of shit. I knew that. Everyone knew that. But then again, I'd ended up in a world with ghosts and magic. Who's to say tarot cards weren't real here?

I stared down at the image of a lone sword, topped with a crown, painted on the last card. It looked harmless enough, but with the way my luck was going, I expected only bad things.

"The Ace of Swords reversed." Again, the boy watched me for a moment before saying, "Confusion, brutality, chaos. It won't be a good time to make decisions as chances of failure are high." He touched the edge of the Death card with his fingertips and, with his gaze still on me, said, "If you were hoping to leave Hogwarts on a good note, the cards aren't with you."

I forced myself to smile as if this was all some big joke. Adding just a hint of scorn to my voice, I asked, "Is that your reading of the cards, oh great diviner?"

"Your year began like shit, you'll make some changes, and then the rest of your year is still going to be shit." He picked up the three cards and shuffled them back into the deck. "I'll ask how my seventh year's going to go as well. We'll see if it's better than yours."

I took the deck from him, but then hesitated and asked, "Do you want to shuffle?"

"I just did."

"Oh, right." I ran my hand lightly over the deck, tracing the yellow brush strokes that made up the stars. Then, I flipped up the first card. Facing me was a man with a red hair, carrying two long sticks. Relief filled my chest. Vablatsky had used this card in her demonstration, the Two of Wands.

I placed the second card on the table. This one bore the image of a man with his back turned to eight golden chalices. The Eight of Cups, I supposed, though I had no idea what its meaning could be. The last card was the familiar specter, the skeleton carrying a scythe. The Death card.

"The Two of Wands reversed." My voice was strong and confident. I remembered what Vablatsky had said about the card during her explanation. "A lack of planning places you in disarray and prevents you from moving forward. I guess you haven't thought much about this year or what you'll do after." The last part was a guess, but the boy nodded his head ever so slightly, so I assumed I must be right.

I tapped the next card with my index finger as I flipped through the pages of my textbook. I tried to keep my movements natural, as if it was only normal that I'd forget what the card meant. "The Eight of Cups reversed. You're 'drifting in a sea of uncertainty.' You do not know what path to take, or you do know and fear of change prevents you from doing so— Isn't this the same as the Two of Wands?"

"The Wands suit has to do with preventing progression, while the Cups has to do with fear of leaving the familiar," he said. Clearly, he had done his homework.

"Either way, you haven't moved forward in the past and you aren't moving forward now." I tapped the final card and said, "Death upright. Beginnings, change, transformation." I repeated the words he'd used to describe it earlier. "But you're going to change."

"It's reversed," he said.

I blinked and looked at the card again. I'd been so happy to see the familiar card, I'd just repeated the boy's reading rather than look at it from his point of view. Death reversed. From the sound of it, the reversed cards had the opposite meaning of the upright. So then, Death reversed would be…

"Are you kidding me?" I said. For a moment, all thoughts of pretending to be Marlene and acting as if I knew Divination disappeared, and I could only glare at the three cards on the table. "How did you manage to get all three cards against change? What kind of—" witchcraft is this. I finished the sentence in my head.

Though he wore a faint smile, there was something disingenuous about the way the boy looked at me. He picked up the cards and shuffled them back into the deck.

He's a future Death Eater, I reminded myself. He grew up in an arrogant, pureblood family, befriended a bunch of arrogant, pureblood arseholes, and would become an arrogant, pureblood Death Eater hellbent on erasing muggles and muggleborns. Unchanging, unquestioning, stagnant.

Suddenly, he held out the deck to me. "You read again."

"I just went." I tried to keep my voice calm and even. I'd barely managed to get through that tarot reading with dumb luck, and now he wanted me to do another.

"I have a question I want to ask," he said.

Then wait your turn, I wanted to snap at him. Class was almost over, and I could read the entire Divination textbook with the help of the diadem before next class. But I couldn't think of a good reason to say no without causing a scene, so I took the deck from him and asked, "What do you want to know?"

"How's my mum doing?"

My eyes narrowed. What kind of a question was that? Was he some kind of ma's boy? What was up with this demanding arsehole?

I flipped up the first card. It bore the image of a knight on a chestnut mare, holding a stick above his head. The Knight of Wands, I supposed.

I could feel the boy's gaze on me as I revealed the second card. A lone man in a dark red robe, surrounded by almost a dozen sticks. Another Wand card, though I didn't have time to count how many.

The third card was upside down, but the skeleton carrying the scythe stared up at me again through empty eye sockets. Death again.

"The Knight of Wands upright," I said.

I reached for my textbook, flipping through the pages, but before I could find the entry on the Knight of Wands, the boy said, "Action, adventure, fearlessness."

My head jerked up and I met his gaze. His eyes remained unreadable as I stammered over my words, "Y-your ma used to be the adventuresome sort." I hoped that was a right guess. I couldn't imagine what else the cards could be saying about his ma's past. I quickly looked at the next card. Counting the number of sticks as quickly as I could, I said, "The Eight of Wands upright."

"The Nine of Wands," he corrected. "Resilient and determined in the face of obstacles."

What did he want? I couldn't understand him. What was the point of making me do this reading? What was the point of his question?

"Your ma is facing some trial," I guessed. "She's determined to overcome it."

His mouth was drawn in a tight line as he stared across the table at me.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. This wasn't right. I knew it. But I didn't know how to fix it.

Professor Vablatsky's husky voice interrupted us as she said, "I'm handing back your essays from last week. Overall, you all did an excellent job. I graded them at NEWT standard. If you aren't happy with the grade you achieved, please come speak with me after class."

The last card, I knew. I didn't need help from him or the book to know it's meaning. "Death reversed. Whatever trial your ma's facing, even if she overcomes it, it won't change anything."

A heavy silence followed my words. This time, I met his gaze full on. I'd done it. I'd gotten through the second tarot reading with minimal mistakes. What more did he want from me? What was this about?

And then, he said, "My mum died last year, remember, McKinnon?"

I had fucked up.

"You both did a great job." Vablatsky's deep voice cut through the silence as she placed the essays on the table in front of us. I managed a quick look at the top of the boy's essay before he shoved it into his bookbag along with his textbook. Even if he'd been trying to hide it, in that split second, I'd seen. The name, in spiky black letters, burned in my mind: Evan Rosier.

He left without another glance at me.

As I watched the future Death Eater disappear through the trapdoor, a sense of foreboding settled in my heart.

I didn't know why, but I had just undergone a test. And I'd failed miserably.

A/N: Hopefully the chapter titles make a bit more sense now. I am not an expert on tarot and write these scenes with a lot of research. Please let me know if I make a mistake!