Chapter Twelve - Premonition
On a bright and clear winter's day, lines of students in scarfs of red or green made their way down to the Quidditch pitch. Beside her, Tabitha's energetic skipping mimicked the excitement in Skye's heart as she prepared to see her first ever Quidditch match. Even Mikey and Adam had sported red rosettes featuring Gryffindor's lion in their support of the first match of the season; Gryffindor vs Slytherin.
"You guys are going to LOVE Quidditch. It's amazing! Plus you're going to have to start learning the rules so you can appreciate how amazing I am at it when I join the team next year." Gushed Tabitha.
"Are you sure you want to? It sounded pretty rough when I was reading about it…" said Skye hesitantly.
"Are you kidding? That's what makes it brilliant. Only the ruthless can brave the Quidditch Pitch. That's why I make the perfect player. I'm smart, cunning and athletic." She mused.
Adam muttered something about being big-headed between coughs, causing the group to laugh at the completely oblivious Tabitha. Arriving at the pitch itself, the group spotted Fred, George and Angelina as they milled about, looking slightly green, prior to the match.
"Hey guys! Are you ready for the win?" Grinned Tabitha.
"Absolutely. Those bludgers won't know what hit them," Fred grinned, lacking his usual enthusiasm.
"Don't worry! You guys will be awesome. You wouldn't have made it on to the team otherwise," Skye reassured them.
As she said it, Oliver Wood came bustling up to them, eyes narrowed at the three second years.
"Come on, guys. The captain wants us all in the changing rooms for a talk," he demanded on approach.
"You mean that you want to rant at us about last minute tactics, while Charlie tries to restrain you?" Angelina moaned.
With a frown, Oliver took off, muttering about tactics, before realising the three were frozen to the spot and not following him at all.
"Err, I think you should probably go. Got a match to win, right?" Mikey cheered.
"Oh, er, right," stammered George.
As the three headed towards Wood, bursting out in a run as he grew impatient, Tabitha gave a long whistle.
"Well, we're screwed," she confessed.
"Tabitha! You can't say that. They're just nervous." Defended Skye.
"I do wonder what Charlie was thinking though. Three newbies in one year? Slytherin has a lot more experience. They obviously need me. Shame about the first year rule though." She sighed.
Skye shook her head as Tabitha grinned cockily. Deciding it would be best to scout out a place in the stands, Tabitha began to assess the best viewing point from the pitch. Glancing round, Skye zoned out, the pit of excitement in her stomach transforming into one of fear and darkness.
"Skye, are you okay?" Adam nudged her.
Despite being spoken to, Skye felt as it she was in another world entirely. Before her the Quidditch pitch was covered in flames, the woodwork falling from the stands as the flames devoured it entirely. The bright colours of each of the houses were turned to ashes, as the flags caught the embers.
Smoke caught the back of her throat as it filled the air, making her to cough and wheeze, until she felt as if she couldn't breathe any longer. Glancing up at the cloudy sky, the last thing she saw a flash of light hit the sky, causing the clouds to swirl and gather together.
Opening her eyes once again, Skye found herself in the exact same spot, the Quidditch pitch restored and the sky returned to its former glory. However, this time she was wheezing on the ground, struggling to suck in the freezing cold air.
"Someone fetch Madame Pomfrey. Skye, can you hear me?" Professor McGonagall's hands rested upon her back as Skye clutched at her stomach.
"Professor," Skye wheezed, her voice raspy. "The Quidditch pitch was on fire. The stands, the flags, everything was on fire."
"Can you walk to the hospital wing?" Asked McGonagall, as she glanced towards the gathering crowds daring them to come any closer.
"No, Professor. You're not listening. The Quidditch pitch is… is going to be set on fire," she gasped, finally parting the present and what was possibly the future in her mind.
Professor McGonagall stared at Skye wide eyed, eyes eventually hardening as she came to a decision.
"Madame Hooch, has Professor Dumbledore arrived at the pitch yet?" She questioned the flying teacher, currently in her referee uniform.
"Do not panic, Minerva. I am already here." Stepping out from behind the crowd, Professor Dumbledore emerged, face grave. Slowly he approached Skye, who finally had enough breath to sit upright. He leaned in closely, his voice hushed. "What did you see?"
"The Quidditch pitch was on fire. The flames were everywhere and by the looks of it the whole thing was completely wrecked." She whispered, haunted.
The Professor nodded and stood to address the whole school.
"This Quidditch match is cancelled. Please return to your dormitories immediately. You are to remain there until your head of houses say otherwise." As students began to shout their protests, Madame Pomfrey arrived, ordering about those in her way. "Madame Pomfrey, if you could escort Miss Knight to the hospital wing, I will be along shortly to speak to her."
With that, Dumbledore set off, most of the faculty following in his wake. Deciding against defying Albus Dumbledore, the students headed back towards the castle, some peering towards Skye, or casting dirty looks as Madame Pomfrey aided her to her feet. But for once Skye wasn't embarrassed at the attention. Instead, she was too traumatised by the images that were ingrained in her head.
XxX
Skye sat on top of the hospital bed, fiddling with the stiff cotton sheets as she waited for Madame Pomfrey to return. Despite Skye's insistence that she was fine, the school nurse insisted she remain in the hospital wing for the time being. Before long, approaching footsteps indicated the arrival of Professor Dumbledore, his robes sweeping the floor as he approached her bed.
"May I take a seat, Miss Knight?" His voice sounded grave as he indicated the space at the end of the bed. Skye nodded as she reshuffled herself to sit cross-legged at the top of the bed. "I know this is very hard for you, but could you explain to me the contents of your vision? Please, spare no detail."
Skye took a deep breath and recalled her vision, the burning, the suffocation and finally, the light that pierced the sky. At this final detail Dumbledore's eyes became narrowed as he thought upon what she had said, the silence deafening.
"After you left, the teachers conducted a full search of the Quidditch grounds in the instance that this event may have been the result of a student's actions. We didn't find anything of suspicion." He explained.
"So the match was cancelled for nothing?" Skye whined.
"No, Skye. Here at Hogwarts our students are our highest priority and their safety is paramount. The problem with the future is that it is incredibly hard to predict. Perhaps your warning prevented this occurrence, or perhaps it is still an event yet to come. We can't be sure." Dumbledore paused as if pondering the question himself.
"Do you really think I'm some sort of Seer, then?" Skye uttered in disbelief.
"Yes. That is something of which I am certain. It seems that as your abilities as a witch grew, so did your so called 'second sight'. Since this is your first instance of true premonition, it may be that it is your only one, or perhaps the start of many. For now only time will tell and I beg that you come to me at once if you experience anything of this scale again. Do you understand, Miss Knight?"
Gazing into the depths of Dumbledore's eyes Skye couldn't help but feel reassured. However, 'the start of many' echoed in her mind, leaving her feeling glum. By now, the whole school would be gossiping. Many had heard her exclaim that the Quidditch pitch was on fire and several theories would be floating about as to why the match was cancelled.
"I understand, Professor. Would it be alright if I returned to my dormitory now?" she asked.
"Yes, but please inform Madame Pomfrey first. She gets most discontent when I release her patients in her stead. Farewell, Miss Knight."
With a spark in his eye and a nod of his head, the headmaster rose to leave the hospital wing. Skye watched him, trying to consider his words to her. The fact that she was a Seer had almost been a joke between friends, but to hear Dumbledore confirm it was unbelievable. Now, the whole school probably knew. At that thought, Skye curled up and closed her eyes, content to hide out in the hospital wing for just a little longer.