DECEMBER 7 TUESDAY

James and Sirius woke up with marmalade on their cheeks. James sat up. His cup of cold tea vanished before his eyes. Breakfast hour was over.

They had the Ravenclaw table right behind them. A conversation between Roy and Phil sparked their curiosity.

"Oh it's so difficult to be chosen," said Roy. "Like seriously Phil you just have no idea."
Roy stared emptily at a teaspoon. Phil patted him on the back.

"I mean how do I even pack for this thing?" Roy went on. "What should I bring on my perilous journey to Death Mountain, where I have to defat the Creature with the Thing I have to find first, like I was told by the Council of Astologers, so the Tojours Fromage won't be able to defeat Goaty Man and ruin Christmas?"

"Did you look at the list I made you?" Phil asked.

Roy started to throw a tantrum about how Phil was 'missing the point' and called him a bloody hippie for calling disposable wet wipes a waste of luggage space.

"You expect me to clean a portable stove with horse chestnuts!"
Phil stood up and excused himself, he had to feed his homework to a firey dog.

Roy remained alone, sighing over his loneliness, and the difficult task he had ahead. James and Sirius thought they'd go and have a chat with him.

"Morning Roy!" said James. "Listen we couldn't help but overhear just now. That just sounds so tough, all that stuff you were saying. Hey, have you heard of..."
He had started talking, before he had worked out what to say, as usual.

"Consultants!" Sirius filled in. "Like, get someone else to go on that perilous journey!"

"First quest is free!"
"The first ten minutes."

"I don't know," said Roy. "Rora said it was all in my horoscope. I was going to just ignore it but then my cats died and then the milkman so now it's sort of personal. I didn't choose this. The stars chose me. I am a chosen one, not a choosing one."

"Chosen ones CAN be choosing ones."

"Oh if only! You know... Not many people know this but I'm quite an active quidditch player. At home... I've failed to qualify for the Ravens so I find I play less and less... I don't know why. I'm quite good actually. Did I mention, that I'm quite an active quidditch player? A chaser, actually. But I've failed to qualify for the Ravens. I don't know why. I failed to qualify for the Ravens, so I play less and less. Who am I?"
"What happened? Did you take a bludger to the head?" James asked.

"Why would I have taken a bludger to the head? Did I mention, that I have played a bit of quidditch in the past? As a chaser. My point is, lately, it feels like every aspect of my life bares some symbolic meaning. Like, me being a chaser, a symbol for how I'm always chasing after something, be it an artefact, a sense of belonging, a boyfriend, or just a pizza mind."

"Look," said Sirius. "This stuff that you're supposed to do according to your horoscope, let us do it!"

"Hm," said Roy. "Ok. Will I still get the honour and glory and money?"

James and Sirius promised him a share of that money. Roy grabbed his books and stood up.

"Before I go to class, let me think, is there anything I should tell you about the quest..."

He ransacked his memory, and didn't find anything.

"Well see you."

He left.

"The axe is in the pumpkin," said James. "And I just know the pumpkin thief intends to take it to Death Mountain!"

They didn't even know where that was. But they were sure, that if there was anything they needed to know about the horoscope, Rora knew it.