Darkened Horizen

The next day in defense class, Severus Snape sat at his desk surveying his students in front of him. It was odd seeing the segregation that the Gryffindor house had gone to so that Harry wasn't anywhere near them since the attack on Weasley, except for Neville. The Lions gave them wary looks as they worked alongside his Snakes who had welcomed to two into their pit. Usually Ha-Potter was parading around like some buffoon, but now he was actually working on the essay that Snape had assigned only a few minutes ago. The rest of the class was still calming down. He wondered if training with the Olympians was actually maturing Harry. With his inheritance in place as well, he could see the features that were unlike his parents. He still had Lily's eyes, that wondrous women, but everything else was different. His hair, his complexion, everything. Plus his height. James may have been tall, but he wasn't as tall as Harry was now. Along with the fact that Harry didn't have a baby face anymore, and those blasted glasses had disappeared from his face. He looked like a man.

The previous night's meeting seemed to shed some light on Snape's faith in Seers. It seemed that the prophecy was invalid. There was a different one. One that seemed to appear out of nowhere. It had popped into the ministry not a few weeks ago and one of the lower death eaters had stolen it to show the Dark Lord. He was all for the Dark Lord, actually being a spy for him and not Dumbledore. He never liked the intentions of the Headmaster, but he had to pretend to be a loyal servant because of the fact that he didn't want his plan to backfire.

He heard the door of his classroom open, and a tear streaked Granger walk in with a piece of parchment in her hand. Severus didn't leave the fact that several Olympians stopped their work to glare at her unnoticed. He applauded the mastermind of whomever did that deed, but of course he couldn't show it. That was just something out of the norm for him. So he just set his glare on Granger as she walked up to him with her eyes downcast.

"And why are you," he glanced at the clock, "Fifteen minutes late to my class, Miss. Granger?"

"I-I was in the infirmary, Professor," she stammered while handing him a pass from Madame Promfrey.

"You do not appear ill," he observed without looking at the pass.

"I w-was with Ron Weasley, sir."

He couldn't help the smirk appear on his lips. "How touching," he drawled. "The helpless maiden nursing her not so mighty warrior to health." Her eyes shot up at him in outrage, a few snickers coming from the students behind her as they tried to do their work. "Twenty points from Gryffindor, take your seat if you will. I do believe you have work to get done."

He turned away, smirking to himself at the tears welling up in the girl's eyes. He heard her feet scruff against the floor as he went back to his desk, and when he turned she was sitting in her seat slowly getting her parchment and quill out. As he sat down at his own desk, he glanced over at his Snakes who were glaring at the girl. Even Harry, whom was working so studiously before, stopped his work and glared at her with underline loathing.

"Mudblood," muttered Draco before he went back to work.

Hermione jumped at the word, making her quill draw a harsh line down the center of her page. If Severus hadn't been on the Olympian's side, he might've felt sorry for the girl.

Larila studied the cards in front of her a few hours later, her lips curved downward into a frown. When Draco Malfoy had first visited her, she had a feeling it would be about something other than the upcoming ceremonies. She had beckoned the ever so pale teen into a chair, and he requested a reading from her. She sat back, studying the cards and gazing back at the distraught teen. He was shaking, visibly. Mentor Nico was currently stirring up some tea for the blonde, and he muttered about ingredients not being fresh enough.

"I'm sorry, my dear," Larila sighed as she studied the cards once again. "Even if we intervene her fate is set in stone." She reached over the table and grasped his clammy hand. She observed the tears that she knew wouldn't shed in his eyes, and the grayish tint to his hair from all the stress. "What gave you this hunch that she was in danger?"

"I received a letter from the Dark Lord," he confessed in a low whisper. Larila's brow furrowed, but she waited for him to continue. "My father is distraught. No one knows where she is." He lip trembled. "She just went out shopping for a day. That's all. Not even to Knockturn Alley."

"Knockturn Alley?" questioned the elder woman.

"It's a place where the pure artifacts and books are sold. Not the light stuff," he said. He shook his head, running his hands through his hair. Larila sat back and studied the boy. He had an older look about him since she had first seen him, and there was evident fear within his eyes. He kept rubbing his hands together. "He keeps summoning me, but I can never get out of the castle in order to meet him."

"Write to him," she suggested as Nico came over with a rather large mug of tea. He handed it to Draco with a smile.

"Inhale deeply before drinking. The aroma will calm your nerves," he instructed with a smile before turning back to his corner.

Draco did was he was told, and Larila gathered her cards and put them back into one of the drawers next to her. "I could have one of the students go into a trance if you like," she offered. Her face was etched with worry. "It would have to be one of Apollo, though."

Draco thought about that option, tapping his index finger on the mug. "Could you?"

That made Larila laugh. "Oh no dear," she chuckled. The look of disappointment of Draco's face made her go quiet for a few moments. "The stress would do more damage to my body," she sighed. "It's a part of being old. I haven't had a real vision, as in a trance, in over five years." The boy nodded, as if understanding when he really didn't. "I could use a crystal ball, or possibly tea leaves."

Draco gulped down to tea, shaking his head. "If she hasn't shown up, then why bother?"

"Are you losing hope?"

Draco nodded. "It's been four days," he said in a strained voice. "Plus I have more pressing matters to think about."

Mentor Nico's head shot up, and he stared at Draco totally bewildered. "Your own mother might be in danger or worse," he hissed through his teeth. "Those matter can-"

"No they can't!" exclaimed Draco as he stood from his seat. He set down the tea, and stared at Nico with determination in his eyes. "Do you not realize that the course of this plan all lays on my shoulders? If she's-" he stopped suddenly, swallowing thickly. "If she's somehow been killed then I'm going to have to wait to grieve."

Larila sighed as did Nico. "Have you thought of enlisting some help?"

"Who?" questioned the blonde.

Larila stood, wiping invisible lint off of her light blue robe. She then stared at Draco for a long moment. "Anyone you trust," she answered vaguely. She extended her hand to the door. "Now if you don't mind, Draco, I have preparations for the ceremony I must get done by tomorrow."

The young one nodded. "Of course," he said as he started towards the door.

Larila crossed the room as he did, and started fishing through potion ingredients within a corner drawer. "Mentor Larila?" called Draco. She turned back, her head up in acknowledgement. "Thank you," he whispered. The elder nodded, and the boy left without a word.

"Why did you lie?" asked Nico. He was currently chopping up rose pedals at his work station.

The old woman found the gillyweed she was looking for. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"The cards," he hissed with a glare. "I know how to read them, Larila. You could've just told the boy she was dead so he could grieve now and work later."

"He'll know in a few days, Nico," she muttered. She strolled across the room towards her bookshelf with a tired look in her eyes. "I can't change fate, Nico. You know this. He's not meant to know until then."

Nico scoffed. "I just think-"

"You think nothing," Larila snapped. "You are not gifted by Apollo so you don't think a thing about prophecies and foretelling. Leave that to Apollo's children. We must follow the timeline or everything will run amuck!"

Nico bit his tongue, wishing he was indeed one of his children. He was stuck being a son of Poseidon. Although Larila pointing it out every chance she got was starting to get to him. "If' you'll excuse me," he said with narrowed eyes. "I have work to do." He then walked out of her room, off to who knows where.

Larila sighed, walking over to the table where the cards once sat in an array of complex magical webs. She rubbed her tired eyes. "I pray you don't have the sight, Draco," she murmured. "You're not strong enough for it."

Dustin heavy footsteps echoed through the near empty corridor as he made his way towards the Great Hall for lunch. In his hands clutched his school books, all filled with the day's notes. His eyes were still rimmed with red from the shock of the vision, and his skin was a ghostly white. Not many could recognize him at first glance. Although some color had made its way back to his skin, he still looked to be the equivalent skin tone of a vampire. His lips were completely crimson from the blood rushing throughout his body to heal along with his magic. He could feel Apollo's stare on his back, and the comfort of his god's hand on his shoulder pushing him towards his destination.

All his life he had been struck by these visions. No matter how many times he tried to stop them they would just come back at full force. At age eight he had a vision of his grandfather being killed. He was so scared he told no one. Two day later his father found the man's corpse hanging from a tree. Then, when he was nine, he watched a deformed being be thrown into a cauldron. Out sprung a man with no nostrils and red eyes. He never knew why he had that vision, but he wouldn't question Apollo's ways.

The boy leaned against the wall for support. He was only a few feet from the Great Hall, but he wanted to compose himself before entering the grand room for lunch. The images of what Chaos showed him was out of the norm for him. So much blood, hate, and despair. So many tears of the ones he loved. So many deaths to come. He couldn't say either. He had tried, but no words came out. He knew what was to happen, only him. And it scared him to no end. Knowing who was going to die and who was going to conquer was a feeling he wouldn't wish on his worst enemies.

Taking a deep breath, he started into the Great Hall. He could hear the whispers as he passed towards the Slytherin table where his friends were. Friends. He took a shaky breath. Friends that he saw deduced to tears. Friends that he saw being murdered in cold blood. Then there were his enemies as well. They would get the worst of it. They would be punished more severely than the followers of the gods.

Dustin finally arrived at the table, looking up for the first time since he had entered the hall. He gazed at his friends, their faces flashing from the vision inside his head. He then noticed that Harry wasn't there. "Where's Harry?" he asked in confusion. Usually the raven haired boy was sitting next to Zane, but today he wasn't. Across from him was Rafaella. Draco was next to her, Pansy next to Dustin, and Blaise on the other side of Dustin.

Pansy squirmed on the bench as she nibbled on a strawberry. "I don't think he liked what I told him yesterday about Ginny." She stared at her plate just as Luna sat down next to Draco with Neville not far behind.

A snippet of the vision flashed through Dustin's eyes. Blood was streaking down Harry's face, and he was laughing as he shot spells towards far off figures. Dustin snapped back to reality and took a sip of pumpkin juice.

"What did you tell him?" he asked. He wasn't there after all, at least not in thought. He had spaced out the entire dinner.

"You mean you weren't paying attention?" questioned Pansy with a snort. "Figures." She sighed, setting down a berry she was about to eat. "Slughorn has been making love potions for Ginny."

"And you would know this because…"

Pansy huffed softly. "I was walking towards Divination, and you know how you have to pass Slughorns rooms since he moved the potions classroom?" Dustin nodded, although he had no knowledge that the classroom had been moved since it was his first year at Hogwarts. "Well I was walking with Daphine and we were talking of course." She tapped her finger on the table. "Then we heard hushed whispers so we stopped and being the sneaky girls we are, we thought we'd follow. Lone behold the voices were coming from Slughorn's classroom." She peered around, making sure no one else was hearing this besides the people around her. Dustin was so engrossed she didn't want her to stop. "It was Slughorn and Ginny. He was explaining how to use it. Quote: 'Slip it into Potter's food or drinks. Three drops should do it.' I was going to tell Harry, but I couldn't find him at all."

Dustin let the information process while Pansy reached for a ham sandwich on the table. "But where's Harry now?"

Everyone shrugged. Dustin stared at Zane for a second, feeling worry roll off of him. As for Rafaella, she had anxiety along with confusion.

"Where is he?" Dustin repeated.

Blaise swallowed heavily. "Last time I saw him, he looked hell bent over something." He paused. "He also had a book in his hands."

Dustin's heart dropped, and his stomach clenched. "May the gods have mercy," he said in a hushed whisper.

Short, I sowwy! There's a lot going on right now, and I've been stressed. The truth is that I went down a path of really bad badness if that makes any sense. I'm back though!

Review.

Thanks and Spanks!

Reebs.