Eleven

Her brow twitched slightly, as she crossed the path of several whispering fifth years. Everybody and anybody knew about her episode in the Divination tower a week ago, and she had high suspicions that Ginny Weasley had accidentally leaked it to her brother's new gossiping girlfriend. After all, it became rather obvious whenever the girl glanced away from her quickly each and every time someone so much as cast her a sideways look.

The Gryffindor could honestly say that she was used to the stares and the whispers, and she just wished that people would mind their own business. It was not as if she was going to suddenly grow another head just because she had some odd case of disconnected foresight. Professor Firenze, after much discussion with her and Professor Trelawney, had labeled it as a future not yet foreseen, blocked even, by an event that may not occur.

Everything was really just starting to hurt her head.

How in the world could she have seen something that may not even happen?

Professor Trelawney explained that it was very rare, and usually explained as a large development of the seers capabilities as the ability to spout prophecies began to form. The book she had given her explained that young seers normally only developed the ability to see the future surrounding themselves. If the ability to predict the opposing future, thus creating a prophecy, began to develop, it was normally late into the seer's years. In a few rare cases, however, young seers developed the ability early and created a rift within the veil, as they became stuck between the two opposing futures created when a prophecy usually formed.

It really was just her luck.

The Higurashi girl released a quiet sigh, while she continued on her trek up to the Divination Tower once again. She needed to talk with Professor Trelawney while she was preparing for her next class. A smile touched her face at the thought, knowing that the Professor would probably be grumbling about having to share her classroom with Professor Firenze once she arrived.

Though—

A sharp gasp escaped her suddenly, as her vision clouded for a single moment. The future opened before her, as her eyes snapped to the left, glancing just beyond the Grand Staircase on the seventh floor. The seen overlapped with reality, and it took her a moment to realize that the sight in front of her eyes was not that of foresight.

He was standing right there.

"Draco," she whispered softly.

The Slytherin did not seem to take notice of her presence, as he rounded a corner and disappeared from her line of sight. Her breathing softened with his disappearance, though she was quick to wonder why the prefect was on the seventh floor to begin with.

She had overheard that Draco and Pansy Parkinson had taken to patrolling the third floor corridor around this time of day, most likely due to a free period, and she took every precaution to avidly avoid the area. After the incident last year—she would not think about that!—she would not be caught dead on that floor at this time of day.

So, why was Draco Malfoy on the seventh floor when he should be on the third?

Curiosity getting the best of her, she tried to quietly hurry down the corridor to try and see if she could catch sight of where he was headed. And knowing that he had a good head start and a large stride, she peaked around the corner he had disappeared behind the moment she reached it.

Her eyes widened at the sight before her, as surprised flooded through her body. "What was that?" Had it been a door? Where did it go?

And, more importantly, where had the Slytherin disappeared?