--Chapter One-Eighteen Years Prior--
Jean Sullivan sat down in the Hog's Head, exhausted from this afternoon's events.
"I can't believe this, one little episode, and the Ministry of Magic shows up on my doorstep, waiting for me to file a prophecy!" Jean ranted to her truest friend, throwing her arms around as if to demonstrate the situation. "Help me, Tristan!" She huffed, plumping down onto the couch beside Tristan, all the while disappointment etched across her face.
"What was the episode?" He asked, completely at lost.
"I saw the earth, as a whole, and every three miles there was a huge pile of sick corpses, Witches and Wizards and Muggles in all. Children lay on their beds hugged by their mothers, all dead. Everyone was dead. The only way I could tell this all wasn't a dream was because it happened when I was wide-awake, very vivid and all.
"It was like I was in the air flying, looking down at the corpses. Then I traveled down Hogsmate Street and all the way to Hogwarts' front doors. They opened, and out came a Man and Woman. They were the only living humans, for that I could tell, somehow. Anyway, the man was fairly tall, about six foot, four inches, and had a head full of thick, platinum blond hair. He had stormy gray eyes.
"The woman had chocolate brown locks, and I mean locks! She had such dark brown eyes they look almost black. She was short and petite, yet she defiantly had a determined air about her. She was pretty.
"So, then the man looks at her, and says 'Well, I guess we are the last people, Hermione.' And she says 'Yes, it does seem to be that way, Draco.' And then they just started walking, until they got to the first corpse and started to bury them. They were giving the corpses funerals. Once they were done with the day, they went into the nearest place to sleep, and then the episode faded."
"Well, I think that this episode is worthy for a prophecy, but to whom, I mean, to, like, everyone? Or just this Draco and Hermione? Who are they, anyway? One wizard, one Muggle? Both magical? Both Muggle? If one is muggle, or both, then we, as in the Wizarding World, can't contact them and tell them to keep themselves safe! You have to do some research!" Tristan said thoughtfully.
"Okay, thanks, Tristan. But, you know, this means we are going to die, and soon, this episode wasn't far off, two years or so, and I even saw your body!" Jean seemed to choke up about this, she had known Tristan her whole life, and she had never wanted to see how his life would end. She had seen his first kiss, seen his first broom even before him, and she had undoubtedly fallen in love with him.
"Oh." Realization was all of Tristan's face, and it seemed he could not breathe for a minute or two.
"Should we be, like, calling all of our relatives and saying goodbye, and doing what we've always wanted?" Jean asked worriedly.
"I think the best way is to not react, maybe if we react too harshly, we could end up dying of shock early." He would know this, Jean thought, it was the Healer in him.
"So, just do the research, file a prophecy, and then go back to normal life?" She asked, a little shocked at how easy it all seemed.
"Yes."
Jean had been working on doing research all afternoon and had found out that the Hermione and Draco in the episode are both students at Hogwarts, school of witchcraft and wizardry. Their full names were Hermione Jane Granger and Draco Lucius Malfoy. Hermione was a mudblood, while Draco was a pureblood. Hermione; Gryffindor, and Draco; Slytherin. Hermione hates Draco for his Death Eater father, and for his profiling. Draco hates Hermione for her perfect scores, her house, her blood, her choice of friends, and her lack of respect towards Slytherins and the Malfoys. Hermione had top marks while Draco had fairly good marks, and Hermione was Head Girl, while Draco was not Head. They were as different as they could be.
Jean had decided that she would go to the Ministry once she figured out why all those corpses died, though she was fairly sure of the cause.
They had all looked sick, and many of them had sick lying beside their cold, dead mouths. Some had died putting sick on the streets. Many of them looked as if they with sleeping off Influenza, and couldn't wake up. All of the corpses looked like they died of illness. So many never even got the trip under ground, as if they stopped caring to have funerals. Like they gave up.
Jean sat still and informed a waitress that she was not to be disturbed. She closed her eyes, willing for the right episode to come forth. And so, it did.
She saw a child kneeling over a grave, his coughing gone horrid. A priest, sweaty and pale, placed a hand on the little boys back, and said, "Henry, your mother was very ill, but she was strong for you. She stayed alive this long on only will. She wouldn't want you to give up and let the illness get you, too. You have to be Strong, Henry. Don't upset your mother." He said.
The scene blurred and cleared itself to a picture of a Healer in St. Mungos. He was talking to a Nurse, and seemed troubled.
"I can't seem to find a cure, and the illness is getting worse, not to mention that it's spreading, quickly. All of my colleagues can't seem to find a cure, either. We've tried everything. Everyone, even the Muggles, is trying to find it. It's as if it doesn't have a cure at all." Then it all faded and another scene, this time in a hospital room instead of a corridor, and a figure lay in the bed.
"Please, Isabella, don't go. Please, get well, get better. I curse this stupid illness! This idiotic Sepeaphomia! Don't go, please, Isabella, take me with you!" A man cried, holding onto the woman's hand for dear life. The woman was pretty, with long inky black hair and perfect facial features. Her eyes were closed, though, and she was pale, sweaty, lanky, and a nosebleed seemed to be arising.
The scene faded and this time it seemed that Jean were in the middle of a house.
"Roger! What happened? Are you okay? Honey? Can you hear me? Oh, dear lord, Barb! Call a Doctor! Roger! Can you hear me? Honey, please wake up. Calm your heart down! Control your Sepeaphomia! Please, honey, don't do this to me." A young woman was in the kitchen, where a young man had, apparently, fainted. He was pale and sweaty like all the others, only this time there was blood coming out of his ears. The young woman was sitting on the floor, with his head in her lap, and was trying with all her will to wake him.
"Honey! Roger! Roger Lee Kindles! Honey!" She cried out, nothing working.
Jean gasped as she came back to normality. She heaved in breaths, not sure what to do with herself. The illness, Sepeaphomia, was going to kill all of but two people in this world, and that was so much pain. So much, in fact, that the last two people are left to give funerals.
Jean got up, paid the bartender, and rushed to the Ministry, to tell them of the Sepeaphomia and to file a prophecy.
So, you now know who the Adam and Eve are. So who guessed right? By the way, I hope I wasn't too brutal. Sepeaphomia is a sickness I made up. It's symptoms are Paleness, Sweat, Weakness and Waning, Nausea, and Coughing. Also, during Blackouts, bleeding of the nose and/or ears.