It hadn't been difficult at all for them to track down Quirrell's Troll – all they had to do was follow the most foul scent that they had ever had the displeasure to smell.

But there was no room for feeling victorious about their discovery – they watched, in horror, as the twelve feet Troll dragged along a huge wooden club into the boy's bathroom.

A petrified scream followed.

"Ron!" screamed Harry and dashed forward.

Taking deep breaths, Lola followed. She had a plan, but how much of it would she be able to execute was a mystery.

The scene inside was blood-curdling. The Troll was having the time of his life, taking great pleasure from bashing and crushing everything around it carelessly. Harry was frantically lifting heavy pieces of debris, trying not to be noticed by the Troll, looking for Ron – who was nowhere to be seen.

Until Lola saw a pool of blood forming behind one of the stalls.

"Oh no…" she whispered, pointing at Ron's still body lying on the bathroom floor.

All blood got drained from Harry's face immediately. "Is he…?" He couldn't finish his sentence.

Lola shook her head. She didn't know but she hoped not. It would be… her fault.

The thought activated something very deep within Lola – something dangerous. Lifting her wand, she prepared to use the only magic she knew, to lift the Troll's wooden club and drop it on its head. It felt so wrong, knowing that it was Ron who was supposed to be doing this, knowing he was on the floor while Lola did so, losing so much blood.

Once the Troll was down, Harry ran to Ron and crouched down by his side. Feeling incredibly guilty, Lola shouted over the sound of burst waterpipes that she would go looking for help.

She didn't need to go far, before she bumped into Professor McGonagall, Snape and Quirrell.

Lovely, she thought.

"Professor!" Lola exclaimed, clutching her heart as she panted frantically. "The Troll attacked Ron - in the boy's bathroom – he's bleeding!"

"Oh dear," was all Minerva McGonagall said before she stormed past towards the end of the corridor, followed closely by Quirrell.

"You, again," said Snape when they left. "How is it so that you are involved in everything?"

Lola panicked. "I… My friend was attacked, Professor. Harry and I were just trying to help –"

"Potter. Of course." Snape gave Lola a fiery look that made her insides curl up. "I suggest you keep better company than that, Allen. If you want to keep out of trouble that is."

It sounded like a threat, but Lola knew exactly what Snape was talking about. She couldn't help but feel honoured that Severus Snape cared enough about her to warn her, as she watched him walk into the dreaded boy's bathroom. The fact that she had no intentions of taking his advice was another thing.

News of the previous night, as always, had spread like wildfire. Ron was all around commended for his "brave" take-down of a twelve-feet tall mountain Troll single-handedly, making many teen girls swoon at breakfast. He was still unconscious at the hospital wing, which made everything that more dramatic.

Lola and Harry had also been admitted, but much to the protest of Madam Pomfrey, discharged once it was realised that they were nowhere near to being in Ron's state. Which is why they were mysteriously missing from the story of the Troll's fall. They had been given a day off from their studies though.

Lola took Ron's freckled hand in between her palms. His hand was cold and limp. "I'm sorry, Ron. I'm so sorry…" she whispered.

She had a lot to be sorry about. Looking back, she could see clearly that it had been her actions which had led Ron to have a breakdown in the bathroom in the first place. Then, she had stopped Harry from going to check-up on him, knowing too well that Ron's pride would stop him from ever coming out of there. Needless to say, Lola was feeling ashamed of herself.

The doors opened to reveal Harry, who came in holding a cup of steaming tea and a grilled cheese sandwich in his hands. He put them down next to Lola, who had opted not to go down to breakfast. She felt too guilty to leave Ron's side.

They didn't speak for a long time, until Harry couldn't hold back anymore.

"I'm not crazy."

The statement sounded so crazy that Lola slowly turned her head to look up at Harry. "Pardon?" she asked.

"I heard you last night. You knew about the Troll even before Quirrell came in. You stood up and you were looking at High Table – you were going to warn somebody, weren't you?"

She was completely cornered now, and she knew that Harry would not take 'No' for an answer. She knew enough about the Boy Who Lived to understand how obsessive he could be.

Lola sighed. "Yes. I did know about the Troll."

Not expecting Lola's honesty, or perhaps not believing up to that point that such a thing could be possible, Harry's eyes widened with shock. Lola noticed the change in his body-language; he was scared.

"How?" he asked almost immediately.

Oh, Harry… Lola thought to herself sardonically. You would go insane if you knew how…

"I will tell you," she said quietly. "But you mustn't tell anyone."

Harry shook his head and promised to keep it between them. Lola knew already she could trust him.

She leaned into his ear and whispered "I'm kind of psychic."

"What?!" Harry burst out just as the doors to the infirmary opened. "You're psychic?"

Lola glared at Harry for being so loud.

"What is the meaning of this?" Snape asked from behind, making them both jump. "Explain, Potter."

Harry looked between Snape and Lola, feeling disappointed in himself as he hadn't been able to keep his promise more than 10 seconds. He felt relieved, however, when Lola nodded for him to answer.

And so he did. He explained how Lola knew about the Troll, how they rushed to help Ron, and how she now made this ridiculous admission.

Severus simply stared into Harry's eyes as he listened, like a resting hawk. Lola wondered whether he was reading Harry's mind to get a better grasp of the events. She then realised, all this time, he could have been reading her mind too!

Then how did he not know Lola's real story?

"You," Snape said finally, looking at Lola. "Follow me. Now."

Oh, Snap, Lola went inwardly. I shouldn't have thought of that.

Sheepishly, Lola followed Snape out of the hospital wing into an empty corridor. Snape looked around for a while to make sure there was no one who could be eavesdropping close by.

"Is it true?" he then asked.

Lola nodded apprehensively.

"Prove it."

Lola continued to stare at Snape's austere features, completely lost for words.

"Prove. It." The sheer amount of force that could go into these two words was staggering.

"How?" Lola asked, shaken.

"However the hell it works!" Snape snapped angrily. He was getting tired of this stupid girl and her bullshit. "Tell me what's on my mind at this instance," he demanded.

"You don't believe me, but I don't need to be psychic to tell you that –"

Her words were cut short by Snape pushing her against the wall, pinning her small frame with his whole body. "I've had enough of your smart-mouth, Allen! Tell me something substantial right now, or else!"

Lola gulped. The pressure was unbelievable. She definitely was not psychic, she wasn't even a Legilimens for that matter. How was she meant to "read" his mind?

"I… uh… It doesn't work like that!" she protested. "I can't hear people's thoughts or feelings or anything like that. It's… it's more like I see things that are coming in the future. Big things. Things worth telling people about."

Severus took a step back, freeing Lola from the wall. He looked a little convinced. Phew.

"So, you're a Seer?" He despised Seers. His entire life was ruined by one.

"Not exactly. When I 'See' something, when I'm warned of it, it can be changed. It's more like a vision than a prophecy. I can also seek to know something about the future, but it doesn't always work. It's hard to explain."

"Fine," said Snape grumpily. "What of my future?"

Lola closed her eyes tightly and pretended to tremble. "You will become the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor in a few years…"

Snape's eyelids shot up with excitement.

"But you won't like it very much. I see that it is a cursed position."

Snape gave Lola a chilling look. "Your vision is wrong. Go get it checked."

"I know what you really want to know, sir. The answer is… yes."

To an outsider, Snape's reaction would look nothing out of the ordinary, but Lola knew exactly what was happening. He lightly touched the lower half of his inner left forearm, took a deep breath and turned on his heels, his black cloak swishing behind him.

For the first time ever, Lola saw real fear in Severus Snape's eyes.