Diary of a Discovered Girl
by Ash-Caro-Lynn
Chapter VIII : Of Prophecies and Potions
Time was slowly running out for Buckbeak. It was nearing the end of March already, and while I had spent hours in the library poring over books, occasionally assisted by either Harry or Hermione, there was really no hope for the hippogriff.
While Buckbeak's life was on the line, Hagrid's classes had ceased to be interesting and entertaining as he played it on the safe side.
I was currently feeding a flobberworm – an ugly, slimy creature that spat and crawled as its name suggested ('flob' meaning 'spit' and 'worm' meaning 'gross creature with a slender, elongated body') – as had been our task for the last month.
Care of Magical Creatures had originally been a topic I was looking forward to, but now flobberworm caring was one of my least favorite tasks.
"I wonder what eats you, little flobberworm," I mused aloud as I fed it lettuce (flobberworms were herbivores, and rather picky about what they ate, and so lettuce was among the few vegetables I could give to my pet). "Shame I don't know how to care for magical creatures larger than ten inch long worms... not that I'd want you to get eaten, of course. Just this lettuce... totally not bitter about feeding something akin to a blob."
"Sure you're not," said Harry with a laugh, sitting down next to me. I raised an eyebrow at him.
"You're approaching me of your own accord and smiling," I observed with a grin. "Feeling better... slightly less concerned about Sirius Black leaping out from behind corners to ambush you?"
He raised an eyebrow. "I never was concerned about that... though I was definitely concerned for your mental well being, and for good reason."
"You wound me," I teased with a smile. "My mental well being... worry about that as much as you like, won't do any good." I frowned. "What's the date again?"
"The first of April," he answered. I gasped.
"I thought it was March!" I exclaimed. "Hear that, little flobberworm? It's the first of April... ah, right, that explains why today is the twins' birthday. Here I was, thinking they were born in March and had lied about their birthday being April Fools' Day... when did the month change, again?"
"Today," replied Harry, rolling his eyes. I sighed.
"I really do need to start marking off my calendar better," I thought aloud. "You have a free period next, don't you?"
"Yep," replied Harry. "What have you got?"
"Ancient Runes and Arithmancy," I replied with a sigh. He frowned.
"Both at the same time? How is that even possible?" he asked. I winked.
"Magic," I replied simply.
"Heya, Buckbeak," I said with a sad smile, petting the hippogriff. "Where's Hagrid?"
He shook his head in the negative, as if to reply, "I don't know."
I frowned, looking to the boarhound sitting loyally by the professor's door. "So, Fang's here as if he's on guard, you have no clue where Hagrid is... I should probably get going, then. Wouldn't want a random person to come out here and find me outside of the castle during class time... 'specially after having such a terrible headache that I couldn't attend my classes for the third period, which sucked, because I had Charms, which is my third favorite subject; Divination, which is always interesting even if it's filled with death omens; and Arithmancy... which isn't so bad, because if I had attended that I would have gotten a headache anyway..."
"Are you really talking to a hippogriff?" asked Hermione, quirking an eyebrow as she approached.
"Are you really outside of the school during class time?" I asked her. "Hermione Granger, skipping class? Which round are you on now?"
"Second," she replied. "I walked out on Divination."
"Did you really?" My eyes widened. "Man, the one time I miss class, and it has to be the one class I didn't want to miss..."
"How's your headache?" I sighed.
"It hurts," I replied. "Like... I don't know... my head's being hammered. I saw Madam Pomfrey about it, and she gave me a potion and sent me on my way... that worked out well." I sighed.
"Are you going to be able to attend classes this afternoon?" Hermione looked at me concernedly. I nodded.
"I guess I will," I replied. "I mean, it's not like I can afford to miss out on anything more... what's the homework for Charms class?"
"Read chapter seven of our textbook and write an eight inch essay," replied Hermione. "Due by next class... so we have the weekend to work on it."
"The weekend... is this one going to be another Hogsmeade weekend?" Harry and I had only gone on a couple of Hogsmeade trips, but now Dementors were roaming the village regularly and while Harry could cast a Patronus, I still hadn't mastered the charm and couldn't bear the coldness that chilled me every time I passed one.
Hermione nodded. "Ron, Harry and I were planning on going... you're welcome to join us, if you think you're up to it." I shook my head.
"No," I replied. "I don't think I can – ooh, look, a Grim!"
Hermione looked bewildered as I petted the dog that came bounding up to the two of us. "You know him?"
He woofed at her merrily, and I laughed, nodding.
"We've met," I replied. "Haven't seen him since before Christmas, though... did you find a warmer place to stay, doggy?"
He nodded. Hermione raised an eyebrow.
"You talk to him and he understands?" she asked. "That's pretty impressive."
"I'm pretty sure it's just a coincidence," I replied with a shrug. "After all, last I checked, Animagi had better things to do than follow random schoolchildren around... now, don't look at me like that, I'm not saying anything about you, unless you're an Animagus."
"Do you reckon his owner lives down in Hogsmeade? Maybe we should take him back?" I shook my head.
"If his owner lived down in Hogsmeade, he wouldn't have come up here so often," I replied. "So... well, do you have to get to Arithmancy?"
"As a matter of fact, yes, I do," she replied with a smile. "Are you coming with?"
I sighed, looking to the dog. "Sorry, boy, but I've got to get a worse headache than I have already."
Hermione laughed. "Arithmancy isn't that bad, is it?"
The dog and I furiously nodded, and Hermione and I laughed at its antics, pulling identical Time Turners out from under our shirts and going back an hour in time before running up to the castle to get to Arithmancy.
"Miss Leavitt, please stay after class." I frowned, packing up my books and checking my schedule.
"Professor Lupin, I really must get to my next class," I replied. "Can it wait?"
"I'm afraid not," he replied. My brow creased further as the other students filed out, leaving him and I alone.
"What is it, professor?" I asked, racking my brain for what I could possibly be in trouble for.
"First of all, are you feeling quite alright today?" I shook my head.
"Awful headache, but I've already seen Madam Pomfrey about it," I replied. "Why?"
"That was just pure concern," he replied. I smiled slightly. "My second question is a much more serious one... where were you at the start of third period?"
"I was... out on the grounds," I replied.
"And who were you talking to?"
"Hermione..." I replied hesitantly. "She... well... um... walked out on one of her classes, and I had been told not to attend any of my classes for the morning when I got the potion for my headache..."
"Nobody else?" I shook my head. "You're absolutely certain?"
"Well, there was Buckbeak the hippogriff," I replied with a laugh, "and a dog."
"A black, large dog?" he asked, his eyes wide. I frowned, slowly nodding. "Don't go near him again."
"W-why not?" I asked, absolutely bewildered. "Is he dangerous? He didn't look that bad to me-"
"He's a very dangerous dog," replied Professor Lupin, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Just... please, don't go around approaching him again?"
"Yes, sir," I replied. "Is that all?" He nodded. "Alright, I'd better be getting to my next class..."
"I'll write you a note," he replied, taking out a quill and ink, before suddenly frowning. "Isn't it lunch time next?"
"Yes," I replied, "but I have Professor Vector, and you, at the same time." He raised an eyebrow, and I slipped out my Time Turner with a wink. "Time Turner."
He raised an eyebrow as he started to write. "Are you sure your headache isn't in any way attributed to being overworked?" he asked, handing me the note he had written.
"Perhaps," I replied, taking it. "But last I checked, stress-related headaches were curable."
"Yours isn't?" he asked. I shook my head.
"It's been bothering me all day, sir," I replied. "Good day, professor."
"Class dismissed," said Professor Snape after a gruelling Potions class. "Miss Leavitt, please stay back."
I groaned. Another professor wanting to talk to me... I'm starting to think I should stay out of trouble, even though I haven't been in any.
Harry gave me a sympathetic pat on the shoulder as he passed by on his way out, and I sighed, approaching Snape's desk and standing by as he disappeared into his stores, coming back with three bottles.
"Professor Lupin has informed me of your headache," he said, and I raised an eyebrow. "He has also asked me if I had any treatment for it – which potion did you take earlier today?"
"A simple headache reliever, sir," I replied. "The one that can be found on page 134 of our textbooks."
"And this did not help?" he asked.
"No, sir," I replied. He held out one of the bottles, and I took it hesitantly.
"Take this after dinner," he instructed, "and meet me in my office at eight o'clock if it doesn't work. You are dismissed, Miss Leavitt."
"Thank you, professor," I said, but he had already turned away. I sighed, hurrying out of the classroom with my things and to my next class.
"So, what'd Snape want?" asked Harry as we walked down to dinner, just like old times. I shrugged.
"Apparently, Professor Lupin told him about my headaches, and so he gave me a potion," I replied. "I'm not supposed to take it until after dinner, and if it doesn't work, I'm to meet him at eight o'clock."
"Eight o'clock?" repeated Harry. "Isn't curfew at eight thirty?"
"Yes, it is, fantastic observation," I replied. "That's why I'm taking the cloak."
He groaned. "I think that's officially yours now," he declared. I laughed.
"Yep," I replied. "You know, you really should find a better hiding place for it if you don't want me to keep taking it... like, say, anywhere but your sock drawer."
He looked rather affronted as we entered the Great Hall. "You were in my sock drawer?"
"Don't look so shocked," I replied with a wink. "It's not like I read your diary."
He flushed red. "I don't have a diary!" I grinned.
"Sure you don't," I replied. "Suuuuuure you don't."
"Blech, this stuff is nasty," I declared as I struggled to swallow the potion after dinner. "Finally done."
"Reckon he's trying to poison you?" asked Harry amusedly. I shook my head.
"No, no, no, Harry, have you learned nothing? Medicine always tastes awful – I'm not the one who drank Skele-Gro, so you should know that better than I. And poison always either is tasteless or tastes good. It's common sense, silly."
"So your tongue has to be punished for trying to heal your body and rewarded for trying to harm it?" asked Harry, raising an eyebrow. I nodded with a laugh.
"Basically," I replied. "Well, this is doing absolutely nothing... shame." I tucked the empty vial back into my bag with a sigh, leaning my head on Harry's shoulder.
"Are you alright?" he asked. I shrugged.
"I've had a headache all day, nightmares all week, strange dreams all year... so, mentally or physically?" I asked with a teasing smile.
"I mean this in the most non-teasing of ways, but are you sure there's nothing wrong with your mind?" I frowned.
"Never quite certain," I replied, "but I haven't really done any research into the matter. I've no clue what to look up – recurring memories... headaches... and I can't imagine actually asking anyone about it aside from Dumbledore or Professor Lupin, as they're really the only ones I can confide in."
"That headache potion still not kicking in?" I shook my head.
"No, not really," I replied. "Well, anyway, I'll see you later, then..."
"This hasn't worked?" asked Professor Snape, examining the bottle.
"No, sir," I replied.
"And you drank all of it after dinner?"
"Yes, sir," I answered. He frowned.
"How long have you had this headache for?" he questioned.
"Since I woke up at about six o'clock this morning, sir," I replied.
"And it hasn't wavered since?" I shook my head.
"No, sir."
"Take this," he instructed, holding out a small vial. I frowned, taking it.
"What is it, sir?" I asked.
"Dreamless sleep potion," he answered. I raised an eyebrow. "You've been having nightmares, haven't you?"
"Yes, sir..." I replied hesitantly.
"You are dismissed, Miss Leavitt."
I left the office with the potion and a frown, my head spinning and generally making it ache even more.
That. Was. Weird.
"And then he- are you alright?" Hermione looked at me concernedly. I smiled, barely concealing a wince.
"Yeah," I replied. "Just... fine."
But Hermione wasn't stupid, and I was holding my head as I walked. "You're not alright," she replied with a frown. "Are you getting the headaches again? I can take you to the infirmary-"
I held up a hand, silencing her. "No, Hermione, honestly." I sighed. "Her headache potions won't do me any good. Dreamless sleep potions subdue the dreams, but I still get the headaches."
She raised an eyebrow. "You're saying your headaches aren't linked to your dreams?"
I shrugged. "I've been having these strange dreams all year, and they usually left me with a dull throbbing in my head that would subside after a few hours. But ever since they've been getting worse, so have the headaches." I laughed weakly, "I think I'm going mad, or this is all one big, strange coincidence..."
"Hold on a second. You mean that you've been having strange dreams all year, and they leave you with headaches, and you never told anyone?" I bit my lip under Hermione's gaze.
"Yes..." I replied. "I could handle it before, I could ignore it, but it eventually got so awful that I had to leave classes..."
"Willow!" Hermione smacked me softly enough not to worsen my headache but hard enough to prove her point. "Never, ever be so darned independent!"
I sighed, looking out the window. "What's the date?" I asked.
"Friday the 22nd," she replied, "why?"
I gasped. "Has time really flown by that fast?" I asked. "It's... Buckbeak's execution date."
She stared, eyes wide. "It is?" I nodded. "Oh, no... well, I'll see you in Arithmancy and Charms, then."
"Yep," I replied, "see you then. I'm going to get up to Divination before Professor Trelawney tries to kill me for being late."
"It's so... round..." I mumbled, examining the crystal ball. "Alright, what are we supposed to be doing with these orbs of orbiness again?"
"Orbs of orbiness?" repeated Harry, raising an eyebrow. "They're crystal balls, not orbs of orbiness."
"Right," I replied. "And I'm totally a person, and not a human of humanity... I see how it is..."
"We're supposed to complete the exercise on page 46 of Unfogging the Future with partners," explained Harry. I raised an eyebrow, examining the opened page.
"Alright, I guess I'll do this first," I declared. "Look deep into your partner's eyes, not with your own, but with your Inner Eye... man, people who like their partners must really enjoy this. Okay, after you have focused your Inner Eye, look into the crystal ball, and search... oh, bother, this is codswallop."
"Let's get it over with, then," replied Harry with a laugh. I sighed, turning my seat so I could face him, closing my eyes tight, and then opening them, staring unblinkingly into my brother's identical ones for a minute before looking to the crystal ball.
"Tonight..." I heard a voice whisper. I gasp, wanting to look around to see who said it but for some reason compelled not to look away. "Dark Lord... alone... friendless..."
I can barely scream as I am violently thrown back in my chair, and my vision turns to darkness.
I open my eyes, and everyone in the room is staring at me.
I blink twice, trying to recollect what just happened, but all of my recent memory is blurred and mashed together.
All I remember is looking into the crystal ball.
"Well, that was a fail," I mumbled under my breath. "Your turn, Harry... why are you all staring at me?"
"You – you-"
"My dear, you have it!" exclaimed Professor Trelawney. I stared at her, bewildered.
"I have... what, exactly?" I asked.
"The Inner Eye!" she replied.
Well, if everyone wasn't staring at me before, they definitely were now.
"I – I don't understand," I mumbled, looking around. "What just happened? All I did was look into the crystal ball."
"That's just it," replied Professor Trelawney, "Seers don't remember giving prophecies. You just gave a prophecy, my child... you've been having the dreams, haven't you?"
"Dreams?" I repeated. "What type of dreams?"
"Dreams of the past," she replied. "Of the traitor – the traitor you mentioned in your prophecy!"
Harry slid over a piece of parchment, on which he had something written in a barely legible rushed handwriting. I gasped violently, my eyes skimming over it.
"I have," I replied breathlessly. "The dreams – and the headaches-"
"Class dismissed!" exclaimed Trelawney. "Stay with me, my dear... we have much to discuss."
"So what you've been saying is that the dreams I've been having all year of the traitor, and the nightmares I've been having recently, are linked to my headaches because my Inner Eye has been trying to open but I've kept it shut, and that I'm a Seer?"
This was weird. After all, it's not like I'm exactly used to being told I'm a Seer.
Or that the traitor I've been having dreams about all year – Sirius Black – is going to be free and set out to rejoin his master tonight.
"Yes, that is exactly what I am saying, my dear," replied Professor Trelawney. I sighed.
"Can I leave now, professor?" I asked. She nodded idly, handing me a note in her spidery handwriting.
"Keep your eyes open," she called out to me as I left. "All three of them."
I quickly pulled out my Time Turner as soon as the door was closed behind me, and turned it, rushing through the hallways to Arithmancy.
"Why are you late?" mumbled Hermione as I sat down next to her, having handed Professor Vector the note.
"I'll explain later," I replied. "At lunch, when all four of us will be there... Page 42?"
"I'm a Seer," I explained quickly, my voice hushed so none of the other students would hear us. "That's why I've been having these dreams all year, that's why I've been having headaches – that's my Inner Eye, apparently, and no potion can subdue it – and that's why I made a prophecy today."
Hermione gasped. "You – you did? How did it go, what did it say?"
"Harry would know better, he has it written down," I replied. "Harry?"
"She and I were doing the crystal ball exercise," he started, "and she was trying to tell my future – so we followed the instructions, and she looked into the crystal ball – or, as she prefers to call it, the orb of orbiness – and she looked at it for a moment before gasping. A couple of seconds later, she screamed and was thrown back in her chair as if something had pushed her..."
"It was bloody scary," added Ron, jumping in. "Her head was over the back of chair one minute, and then it suddenly rolled forward and it was if she was alert, except her eyes were bright silver and her voice was – I don't even know how to describe it-"
"Unnaturally deep and loud," supplied Harry. "Like... if someone with a deep voice used a Sonorus charm. Anyway, she said this." He passed Hermione the piece of parchment he had written on, and her eyes flicked across it, her eyes widening.
"Do you reckon this refers to Sirius Black?" she asked breathlessly. "I mean – for twelve years he has been chained – that can only mean that he's been locked up, in Azkaban!"
"So it's settled then," I mumbled, eyes darting around frantically. "Buckbeak's getting executed at nine thirty, Sirius Black is coming back and he's going try to reunite with Voldemort before midnight..."
"Starting to have second thoughts about visiting Hagrid," mumbled Harry. I smacked him.
"No, we are definitely visiting Hagrid," I replied. "I'm just starting to think that this year's strange events are starting to fall into place all at once."
"So, your point?" asked Hermione.
"They're all linked," I replied. "Somehow – I have no clue how – but it can't all just be coincidence, can it? Sirius Black, Buckbeak, you know what the common denominator is? Harry. It all ties in somehow – I mean, there's no way it can't be."
"How do you know?" whispered Harry.
"I know," I replied, "because Sirius Black has been out of Azkaban for almost nine months. If he could have reunited with Voldemort by now, don't you think he would have?"
"There's something else, too," said Ron. "It's – it's not necessarily related... but Scabbers is missing."
I frowned. "Your rat, right?" He nodded. "Your rat's missing... has he ever gone missing before?"
Harry snorted. "That rat sleeps so often it's a wonder he's even gotten out of the dormitory," he replied. Ron, to my surprise, didn't take any offence, instead nodding in agreement.
"Yeah, that's why it's so strange," he mumbled. "He's been missing since Wednesday – I didn't mention it, 'cause I thought he'd turn up, but..."
"It's linked," I murmured. "Somehow..."
"Greetings, Hagrid!" I called out, knocking on the door. "We come bearing brownies... because brownies are yummy."
He opened the door with a frown. "Yeh shouldn' be here, wha' with Sirius Black an' everythin'..." It's my turn to frown. He has tear tracks running down his bearded face, and Buckbeak is chained to a post in the pumpkin patch.
"Yes, we should be here," I replied firmly. "We're being super safe, and there is no way we can eat all of these brownies by ourselves."
"I suppose yeh could come in... but make sure yeh're quick," says Hagrid, and we enter, setting the plate of house elf made brownies on the table.
"It's confusing, this whole thing," I mumbled. "Buckbeak and Sirius Black and prophecies..."
"Prophecies?" repeated Hagrid. "Professor Trelawney 'ad another one of 'er prophecies?"
"No," replied Hermione. "There was a prophecy, but it wasn't Professor Trelawney that gave it – it was Willow."
I sighed as Hagrid gasped. "Yeh're a Seer? Tha's brilliant!" he exclaimed. "A half blood Seer, tha's rare... and yeh said yer mother was a Muggleborn?"
"Yes," I replied, my eyes darting around the room.
Well, it wasn't a lie, per se... and I technically was a half blood Seer.
"And... wha' was the prophecy abou'?" I frowned, suddenly hearing scuffling.
"What's that, Hagrid? Are you raising another baby dragon?" He shook his head, bewildered, and I looked quickly around before spotting the source of the scuffling.
"Ron," I whispered so nobody else could hear. "What does your rat look like?"
"He's dark grey, rather chubby, and he's missing a toe on his left front paw," replied Ron. "Why?"
I didn't reply, putting a finger to my lips and suddenly lunging, closing my hands around the rodent on the ground before lifting him up, holding him out to Ron by the tail. He gasped.
"Scabbers!" he exclaimed. "How'd he get out here?"
"No clue," I replied. Harry yelped suddenly.
"Ow!" he exclaimed, rubbing the back of his head. I frowned. "I – a rock just flew in the window and hit me!"
"Yeah, sure," I replied, looking outside. I gasped. "The – the executioners are coming!"
"Yeh've got ter get goin', yeh four," said Hagrid quickly. "Quick – out the back way, tha's the fastest... don't let them see yeh."
"Come on!" I hissed, grabbing my wand off of the table and, in my hurry, Harry's. We moved as quickly as we could, and were across the grounds by the time the executioner party had arrived.
I winced, hearing the telltale crack of metal on wood.
"It's over..." I mumbled. "On the bright side, I guess, we've got your rat, Ron." Confused at hearing no response, I looked up to see what the other three were staring at and paled.
The dog I had been told to stay away from – a large, black one – stood before us, growling and snapping. I jumped back.
"G-good doggy..." I stammered. Harry and Hermione stared.
"You know him?" asked Harry. I nodded.
"I-I did..." I replied nervously, backing away. The dog crept closer, baring sharp teeth. "But he's never been this aggressive before- HOLY SHIT!"
Scabbers had bitten my hand, taking the distraction to run away. The dog ran after him, and Ron after the dog. I raised an eyebrow.
"He really does like that rat, doesn't he?"
The rat and dog raced towards the Whomping Willow, but Ron finally outran the dog, closing his hands around Scabbers. I gasped, watching in silent horror as the dog grabbed Ron's leg in its mouth, dragging the boy into the Whomping Willow tree-
The Whomping Willow tree?
"Of all the trees he had to choose," I mumbled. "It had to be the one that I have no clue how to get into."
"We've got to get Ron!" exclaimed Harry.
"How?" replied Hermione frantically. "That tree could kill us, Harry! It's a Whomping Willow, not an elm!"
He squared his jaw, facing the tree head-on.
"We've got to try."