New story that's been in the works that I never bothered to post. hope you all enjoy it.
Trigger warning! Depression, suicide/suicidal thoughts, disassociation, PTSD, drug use and mentions
A few important things!
1) My OC will have made the prophecy about Harry instead of Trelawney, and Trelawney's family is not around. OC's Sight is based on my own rules mostly.
2) I do not know a lot about tarot or witches or other magic-esque things so anything brought up here is based on what I've looked up. If anything is wrong, be polite and let me know in a kind manner, please.
3) This is a work in progress. I don't have a plan for how things will go in the future and am winging it as I go, so don't expect massive plot changes right away.
4) If you can't be kind, have nothing nice to say, or feel the need to be rude for any reason, I will just block you. The HP fandom especially has grown to become something nasty when it comes to fanfics and I feel it's a shame when people just want to write and share it with others. I have no patience for those who can't be kind with their critiques.
Rain poured down in a dark forest in the Pacific Northwest, battering the trees and undergrowth as it did for a good portion of the year. The landscape was uninhabited, untouched by human hands; without roads, without damage, but not quite without life. A set of overly large blue eyes peered out from behind a thicket before jerking upward. A mooncalf poked its long neck out over the bush before a number of others joined it and they scattered into the forest as a large dark skeletal horse made its way through. The thestral peacefully passed by, joining its herd not too far off as a small northern pygmy owl swooped overhead.
The bird twisted easily through the trees, dodging branches and soon swooping into a small clearing around the only structure for miles. It landed on the windowsill of the wood cabin, shaking the water off its feathers and puffing up in the process before letting out a little screech. A lithe figure jolted up from their sprawled position on a couch, silver hair slightly tangled from sleep as they turned to face the creature who invaded their home. They frowned lightly, brows furrowed but got up with a stretch.
Their home was slightly cluttered with herbs and other plants hanging from the ceiling—tied together in clumps—while a desk nearby was piled high with dog-eared books, papers, and scrolls. The bookcases lining the walls of their living room were filled to the brim with parchments, old tomes, and the skeletal remains of a few creatures. Some were more obvious like that of a cat or a jarred serpentine skeleton, but others were more magical; the taxidermied jackalope placed on top of an ornate display case or the framed Thunderbird feather, for example. The woman easily slipped past any mess left around her and the items hanging from the ceiling were pushed aside as she picked up a wand from the desk.
A quick sweep of it lit up a lamp nearby, allowing light to catch on the dark runes inked onto the skin of her arms and the tattoo of a Jarvey attacking a Horned Serpent etched onto her thigh. She moved toward the small owl, letting it climb onto her hand as she leaned against the counter of her kitchen. She offered it a small piece of dried meat while she took the small missive off its leg and moved it to her shoulder. She pulled a hand through her silver hair, letting it fall over the left side of her face to reveal the dark undercut sides and the glimpse of a scar running from her temple toward her neck.
A tap of her wand unshrunk the roll of parchment and her emerald eyes ran over what had been written. Immediately, she grew pale, pushing off the counter and rereading it before spitting out a curse and bolting out of the kitchen; leaving the disgruntled owl to flutter off her shoulder and rest on the back of her kitchen chair.
"No, no, no, no. She was supposed to be safe. Fuck."
She shoved the books off her desk, letting them tumble to the ground as she pulled out a drawer and grabbed a box of chalk. Desk clear, she muttered under her breath as she scribbled out runes on the wood before dropping the chalk back in the box and bolting away to dig through the drawers of one of her cabinets. She growled when she couldn't find what she was looking for, slamming the drawer shut before moving back to the kitchen. She pulled out a cream-colored plate from an upper shelf, eyeing it in the dim light before setting it on the desk and moving into her bedroom. She frowned, looking around the room at the messy bed covers and trunk sitting at the foot of it before lifting her wand.
"Accio," she murmured and the trunk rattled like something had bumped into it, leaving her huffing and going to open it.
A deck of tarot cards flew out into her hand and after some more digging, a small wooden box at the bottom of the trunk was pulled out. She brought them all to the desk and opened the box first, setting the cards aside for the moment. She dropped into the wooden chair and began picking through the items in the box; a small knuckle bone, a smooth cream and orange rock, a seashell, a small stick of pine, a chicken foot, and a few small fox vertebrae. She dumped the pieces onto the plate, eyeing them and making sure those were the ones she wanted before grinding her teeth. She wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer to her question but gathered the objects up anyway and shook them between her hands before tossing them back onto the plate.
She looked down at them critically and soon grew slightly more frantic. She gathered them up again and tried once more and while the positions were different, the resulting answer was still the same. She let out a whine, putting the objects back in the box before grabbing the tarot cards. She closed her eyes, thinking hard about what she wanted answered before working with the deck. She flipped the three cards with shaky fingers and once they were revealed, she dropped back hard into her chair.
Knight of Swords.
Death.
4 of Swords.
She didn't move for some time, letting the sound of rain outside swallow her up for a moment before she slowly and gently tucked the items away. She placed them all back where she'd gotten them from, then moved to the runes on the desk and used her wand to trace over them. The runes glowed a soft green light before fading, leaving the desk clear of chalk as another flick of her wand brought the books and papers back to their place as well. She stepped into the kitchen, looked at the abandoned parchment, and picked it up again; rubbing harshly at her face before putting it down. The paper wrinkled under her hand as it curled into a fist and slammed once against the wood, making the pygmy owl screech in discomfort.
She let out a long, heavy breath, sagging as her hair fell forward to hide her features. She dropped down into the chair and tipped her head back, pulling her hand through her hair.
"I don't want to go back to England, Cygnus," she muttered, the little owl flying over and landing on her shoulder to pluck at the silver chain attached to the top of her ear and her ear lobe. "I left for a reason. I told Sybill—" She cut herself short and begrudgingly sat up, making Cygnus flap his wings to keep his balance. "I owe her. I owe her everything so the least I can do is go."
She sighed heavily once more and stood, lightly plucking Cygnus from her shoulder and setting him on a perch near the sofa as she tied her silver hair up in a bun. She ran her hand over the darker, short-trimmed hair to ensure she'd gotten it all before flicking her wand. The trunk from her bedroom floated into the room and she began to pack away her things, shrinking the larger items, drawing out a few boxes from a closet to pack away her books and the more delicate items, and tucking her tarot cards and a few other vital items in a smaller pack that she would keep on her.
It didn't take long for her house to be bare and she switched out of her short gym shorts and tanktop, instead pulling on some harem pants and a loose white tunic shirt before grabbing a dark violet robe to cover it all. She flicked the hood up over her hair, allowing Cygnus to perch close to her neck as she stepped outside into the downpour. She cast a protective charm over her floating trunk to keep it dry and with a pop, apparated away.
Devin Callahan stepped into The Leaky Cauldron exhausted and jetlagged. She approached Tom at the bar and requested a room that she wished she could just collapse in. It had been years since she'd been around so many people and despite avoiding them as much as she could, it still took a toll and a headache was starting to pound away behind her eyes. Once she was set up in her room for the week, she begrudgingly hung up her robes and summoned a quill and parchment. Cygnus knew she was going to need him and landed on the top of the desk, watching her write with one hand as the other went up to let her hair back down.
It wasn't a long letter but it didn't need to be. Devin just needed to confirm where she needed to be to collect the things that would be left behind. Sybill Trelawney had passed away and Devin was all the woman had left. While not related to her, Sybill had been a close friend of her aunt's and the first to recognize what Devin could do. The Sight wasn't easy to deal with as a child and while her father assumed she was just being a rotten brat and her mother had given up trying to figure things out, her aunt had brought her to meet Sybill to give her the first real answer to her issues.
As an adult, it didn't make her feel much better knowing what she did but as a child having some understanding was better than none, and Sybill's excitement about finding out about her Sight had helped initially. What she knew helped Devin figure out what to do to control things and if it weren't for that damned prophecy, things might have been vastly different. Devin still didn't know what the cause was behind her death and once she had the first letter finished, she started a second to request an inquiry into what had happened. The letter she'd gotten initially was so brief, just a notice of her passing and a request to go to the Ministry to sign the documents required of her as Sybill's will declared.
She shrunk the two letters and strapped a second holder to Cygnus's leg, lightly tapping it. "This one goes to the Ministry. The other is a response to the last letter. You know where to go."
She got up and opened the window, letting the little owl fly out, watching him drift off into the night sky with a soft sigh. She then got ready for bed, stripping down to just her briefs and sliding under the covers of the bed to rest. She should've expected what happened though. Being so close to dense magic again after years of isolation—being surrounded by other energies and people—was asking for trouble. So, it shouldn't have been surprising when her night was riddled with visions and nightmares.
She heard shouting and screaming; a woman crying out as a flash of green silenced her and a young baby began to cry instead. She witnessed a man begging for the safety of someone he cared deeply about, practically on his knees before an older wizard. Then, she saw a wolf the size of a man, howling up at the full moon and making her back burn with a fire she'd never grown used to. A flash of serpentine yellow eyes in the dark, the mad cackle of an innocent man, the sobs of a father over his son's corpse, then she jerked upright with a gasp of air.
She was covered in a cold sweat, tears sliding down her cheeks as the leftover emotions kept hold of her heart. She quivered and brought a hand up to paw at her face, trying to steady her breathing and separate her own emotions from those lingering ones. It was hard and took longer than she would've liked to get settled again. It had been too many things at once; her Sight whipping her back and forth between past and future, person to person. She would rather have the clear, longer visions than the whiplash of the blurred, short glimpses but she never had a choice.
Once settled down, she pulled herself out of bed and got dressed again, opting for a pair of black slacks and a deep red dress shirt, partially hidden by a black robe and the top few buttons left undone. She left her hair down and replaced her earrings, slipping on a necklace with a smooth, pitch-black obsidian stone hanging on it. She hoped it would help her deal with any remnants of her Sight and soon went downstairs to have something to eat.
She opted for coffee instead of tea, worried about what she might See in the dregs if she got the British staple, and tried to think about what she needed to do next. She had to wait for responses to her letters before going anywhere but there were some things she could do in Diagon Alley. One of her telescope lenses had cracked and needed replacing and she could do with a new set of scales. She also needed to take a peek into the apothecary and see what they had available that might replace some of her older divination items. A brief stop at Gringotts was needed first though, to exchange her American money for the British equivalent. It wasn't a big list of things to do but working out her day was helping her keep focused and once she finished her meal, she grabbed her bag from her room and headed for the entrance to the alley.
Her first step brought a small grimace to her face. The marketplace was bustling, filling with witches and wizards and several young students as well. It was getting close to the start of the school year, she realized, having not really paid much attention to the date other than the general time of year. She'd been avoiding doing much divining work back home and for good reason. Her visions—her prophecies—only ever brought bad luck for her. Having the stars so often covered with stormy clouds, being far away from civilization, losing herself in nature had been a cooling balm on her struggles with her Sight and if she had the choice, she'd still be there.
No point thinking about it more, she told herself, starting to make her way through the alley toward Gringotts and doing her best to avoid as many people as possible. The last thing she needed was an accidental Sight problem because someone ran into her. She'd even worn her gloves this time since she knew she'd be shopping, despite the slightly warmer weather. It didn't bother her and no one was paying her much mind anyway, so she made it to Gringotts without incident and stepped into the white marble building with a soft sigh of relief. She dug through her bag and pulled out her coin purse, checking inside to see if she had enough for her short shopping trip before wrinkling her nose. Just short. That's what I get for accepting Tom's upcharge for meals.
She shook her head and stepped into line to wait for a teller, dragging a hand through her hair once more with the idle thought of braiding some of it later. I'll need to do something for Sybill as well, to bring her peace. It's my fault she was there to begin with. Devin shook her head as the line moved and she was finally able to meet the scowling Goblin seated before her. The exchange went along rather easily as did the withdrawal from her accounts. A brief mention of the passing of her friend let her know that their accounts might end up merged depending on what was written in the will and her guilt doubled at the thought. She was getting everything Sybill had left and it felt like a punch to the gut instead of a show of how much the woman trusted her.
Her hand went up to grasp at the stone resting on her chest the second she was outside of the bank, taking a moment to herself. She took a slow breath, holding it before letting it out, and taking a step forward. She was mourning, reminding herself that it was okay to feel how she did and knowing it would only get worse when she had to go through Sybill's things later. For the moment though, she focused on her tasks, vowing to take some time to make a small alter to properly mourn when she got back to the Leaky Cauldron.
She allowed herself to wander through a few other stores as well, idly purchasing another set of gloves since the ones she had now were beginning to fray. She purchased a new telescope lens as she'd wanted and moved to the apothecary. The building was the only one seemingly sparse of people. Students only popped in briefly to get their things and left due to the smell but Devin rather enjoyed the various scents of the potion ingredients. She'd only meant to grab some hippogriff claws, a bezoar, and dittany but also left with a bunch of valerian and lavender. She held back on other supplies knowing that Sybill would have some she might keep, and left before the temptations could grow too much.
The last items she bought were a dark green candle—Sybill's favorite color and one that smelled like mint, just for her—two small eagle feathers, and a bag of marbles; one a deep, sea-blue that had called out to her. She rolled it around her palm when she retreated back to the Leaky Cauldron and ate her dinner at the bar. It was just a ball of glass but she would never refuse the call of an object and let out a soft sigh as she tucked it away and lifted her mug for another round of bourbon.
"That's a heavy sigh there," Tom noted as he refilled her drink. "Doing okay, miss?"
"Just… mourning. I had a good friend pass this weekend and am here to gather their things."
"Sorry for your loss then. Let me know if there's anythin' I can do to help ya. One drink on the house from me, 'kay?"
"You don't have to," Devin pressed but he waved her off and stepped away, leaving her to herself.
She didn't stay much longer as the night had drawn in other guests and noise had picked up in the bar area with murmurs of the most recent gossip. She vaguely heard a name, Sirius Black, but paid it no mind. She hoped to not be in Britain long and to retreat back to her home in America the first chance she got. Whatever drama was happening with Voldemort or other Dark Wizards was not her business. She wanted to stay far, far away from all of that. She could only hope that nothing would happen to keep her here. Already her skin itched for the peacefulness of the forests, the quiet, the near-constant sound of rain.
Rain fell down as his heart burned with fury and rage and grief. Someone had killed them, had murdered his two closest friends, and betrayed them all. He knew who it was, that sneaking rat. That bastard sold them to Voldemort and he wasn't going to let him live it down. He stormed through the town, his anger pushing him fast and faster after the scent he followed; padding on all fours until he found him.
"You," he snarled, shifting back to his human shape and brandishing his wand as he faced the man in front of him. "You traitor!"
The man shivered, shaking before shouting out as well, drawing out muggles from their homes with all the noise.
"You're the traitor! You sold out Lily and James! It was you who killed the Potters!"
"What?" He questioned, confused as to what was going on and letting out a choked bark of a laugh. "Are you mad?"
"You killed them and gave up their position as their Secret Keeper! It was you who betrayed them, Sirius Black!"
"I didn't—"
He was cut off as the man swung his wand around and shot a powerful blasting curse up the street behind him, killing everyone in his wake. Sirius Black stared in shock as the man sliced off his own finger, smirked, then shifted into a rat and bounded into the sewers. The blast had alerted people though, drawing aurors quickly and Sirius broke. His mind and his heart shattered at that moment, drawing a maniacal, mad laugh out of his throat while tears poured down his face. He was alone, standing with a dozen dead bodies, his friends dead, someone he thought was a friend had betrayed them, and who would believe him? He had nothing.
Devin sucked in a sharp breath, choking on air and faltering, leaning hard against the door to her room. Her legs threatened to collapse under her and she somehow managed to falter into her room before they did. She brought a hand up to her throat as the same sort of mad cackle escaped her, tears streaming down her own face as she fought to ground herself after the Sight. A shaking hand drew her wand, casting a silencing charm over her room so no one would hear and she sank to her knees on the ground, pressing her forehead to the cool wood floorboards as she gasped for air.
Sirius Black.
That had been the trigger, though she hadn't expected the vision at all. It had just been a name, not even one she'd known. Not entirely. She knew of the Blacks vaguely. Knew they were a pureblood family, well-known, and one that had quite a few members turn to Voldemort in the war. She'd had brief glimpses of a few other family members but nothing important, nothing dangerous, until now. People wouldn't have been talking about him unless something happened and if she was having visions of him now—past or future—it did not bode well. Her visions invited trouble and this was definitely trouble.
Her breathing had slowed down now and she closed her eyes and curled her hands into fists, slamming one against the ground in frustration. Part of her still held that intrigue, that curiosity that egged her on, telling her to look into it. Find everything she could about Sirius Black, listen to the gossip, the truth, the lies. Use her visions for something instead of just hiding them away like a coward but… that's what she was. Devin Callahan was a coward and had been for years. Having the Sight does that and Devin had learned very quickly what could and couldn't be said or done. Prophecies weren't meant to be shared and the one time she said something—told someone—had been the biggest mistake of her life. It was the reason she was here. It was the reason she'd run to America. It was the reason Sybill was dead and with a shuddering sob, Devin pushed herself up from the ground and dragged herself to the desk by the bed.
She lifted her wand, summoning her bag and pulling out the candle she'd bought, the feathers, and the marbles. She brought out her box of trinkets from her trunk, plucking a few more things from it before drawing forth a glass, a bottle of red wine, and a photo. It was worn around the edges but the woman pictured within was still moving around with an awkward smile as she adjusted her large glasses and tugged at the cloth tied around her head. Devin placed the picture on the desk, gazing down sadly at Sybill Trelawney as she gathered the objects and set them around the candle. It was lit and the wine poured as Devin lightly propped the picture up to eye the woman.
"I-I'm so sorry, Sybill," she breathed. "This is all my fault. What happened to you was… If I had just kept my mouth shut…"
Devin dragged a hand down her face, smearing her tears as her teeth held tight to her bottom lip, resisting more sobs.
"I know you wouldn't have wanted that. You always said… Y-You told me to be proud of it, of what I Saw, what I could do. You wanted me to use my gift, to help people and I just… ran away. I-I left you holding that prophecy and abandoned you, leaving you to deal with the backlash because you said it would be fine. You said you would be safe b-but now you're—Merlin, you died because I was too big of a coward to say it was mine. To say it was my prophecy."
She buried her face in her hands.
"I killed Lily and James," she muttered, not realizing her words weren't her own, just remnants of the Sight she'd just been witness to.
It was still lingering, mixing and twisting with her own emotions as she raised her head from her hands, her once vibrant green eyes slightly fogged still. Sirius Black blamed himself for their deaths just as Devin Callahan blamed herself for Sybill's. She hadn't been able to pull herself completely free from the Sight because of that and was still struggling to, when there was a tap on the window.
Cygnus was back and helped draw her attention away from the spiraling hole she was putting herself into. Devin tore her gaze away from the small altar she'd created, opening the window to let the bird in. He could see the state she was in and pecked harshly at the back of her hand. The pain helped some and she blinked hard with a wince, bringing a hand to her head as a migraine quickly bloomed. She stood from the desk, stepping away and digging through her trunk before finding the potion she wanted. She uncapped it and swallowed the contents quickly, letting out a soft sigh of relief when the biting headache eased.
She sagged, leaning back against the trunk and sitting on the ground, trying to pull herself together somewhat. Slightly more aware of herself, she wiped the tears off her face and attempted a deep breath, feeling it catch and shudder briefly. She let it out and immediately felt drained, exhaustion pulling at her form as Cygnus fluttered down to land on her knee. She glanced at him, giving his feathers a small scritch before taking the responses she'd received.
She unraveled and unshrank the two missives, glancing over them solemnly. The one stated that Sybill Trelawney had died by accident, having a Sight while on a balcony and falling over the edge. It made Devin grimace but also feel a small bit of relief. She hadn't been killed because of the prophecy she pretended to know and hadn't even known what was happening. Her death was peaceful, even if it was sad and entirely preventable. Anyone who knew the woman and how her Sight worked would know that Sybill was unaware of her surroundings while having a vision. Her being anywhere near a balcony while alone should have never occurred but Devin didn't know what her circumstances were. All Sybill said was that she was safe and being protected by someone powerful enough to hide her from the Dark Wizards who followed Voldemort. This lack of consideration for her and her weaknesses caused by her Sight though, put something sour in Devin's gut.
Said feeling only grew when she read the second missive stating that Sybill's things were currently under the possession of the Hogwarts staff; namely the Headmaster Albus Dumbledore himself. The thought of the castle made Devin's stomach twist in unease. She'd not thought of the school for years. Her time there hadn't exactly been the best and it was only now that she realized she had heard the name Sirius Black before. She'd done her best to block out her previous years at the school and had forgotten the group of young Gryffindors who used to run around tormenting and bullying people. Not that they didn't have some harmless fun but it rarely looked that way to her. She'd been lucky and had been sorted into Ravenclaw, quiet enough to stay off their radar though not quiet enough to avoid her own bullies.
The thought of going back to the school made her uneasy. Having to deal with Dumbledore himself made her feel worse. She hadn't expected him to be the one to offer Sybill protection. Nor did she expect him to want to meet her. The missive came off as a cordial invitation to visit the school and have a meal with the man while handling Sybill's things, discuss her time there, and extend his condolences. Yet, it felt like a trap. Devin didn't know how much Dumbledore had worked out. The man was smart, cunning, and Devin had Seen glimpses of him in visions that made her untrusting of him. If she had known he was the one who offered to keep Sybill safe, Devin might have warned her against it.
Devin eyed the missive for a long moment, feeling the unease within her swirl until she glanced back at the glowing candle on the desk and got to her feet again. She approached the small display solemnly, mind clearer than it had just been as she sat down in front of it. She reached out, rolling the stem of the glass of wine between her fingers before bringing it to her lips. It wasn't her favorite drink by any means but it had been Sybill's and she needed to fix what she'd done wrong.
"Sorry," she breathed as she set the glass down and faced the sheepish portrait of Sybill. "I was… still caught up in a Sight without realizing. You don't deserve that. You were… a great teacher to me. Eccentric but kind and patient. Your guidance helped me through so much as a kid and even now… I just wish I hadn't put you in that position. If I hadn't been so impulsive, so desperate to help, then…"
Devin went quiet for a second, downing more of the glass before refilling it. She spent the night talking to her. Telling her about her life in America, about her Sight, how she missed her, and the moments they shared together. She reminisced about all the things she'd been taught and how they helped change her life. When she'd finally run out of things to say and the candle had melted down low, she softly sighed and breathed out her last goodbyes. Her wishes for Sybill to move on, to enjoy the afterlife and not to worry about her. She'd been taught well and wouldn't let those teachings go to waste.
The candle snuffed itself out when she'd finished and the wine bottle was empty. Devin's cheeks were tinted pink from the alcohol and her tears but she slowly took down the small display in the early rays of morning light and placed the photo in her trunk once more. She then pulled out a deep green ribbon, lacing it around some of her hair and twisting the two small eagle feathers into it. A reminder of her teacher that she would keep for at least a week as a sign of her mourning. When the week was done, she would cut it off and burn it, letting her go as Sybill would have wanted. She then slipped into bed and allowed herself the rest of that day to mourn, not rising from the blankets until the following morning when her stomach's protests demanded something to eat.
She dragged herself downstairs to the bar, sinking down onto a stool and resisting the urge to sprawl across the bar in exhaustion. It curled around her body like a weighted blanket; the heaviness settling deep into her bones as she rubbed at her red-rimmed eyes. Tom had spotted her fairly quickly and came over with a look of concern.
"I didn't see you come down yesterday," he muttered. "I know it's not my business but if ya need someone to chat with, I'm here for ya."
"I'm… I'm okay, Tom, thank you," Devin offered, allowing the small trickle of warmth to flow through her at the thoughtfulness for someone he didn't even know. "I just… had an off day yesterday. I try not to wallow for more than a day if I can help it."
He hummed in understanding, offering a smile. "That's good and ta make it better, I'll give ya a nice big steak and kidney pie and your drink of choice."
Devin cracked a small smile. "Bit early for drinks, Tom."
"Then, I'll save it for later. Still, what'll ya have? Tea?"
"Coffee, if you've got it."
He nodded and stepped away to go get her food and drink as she relaxed slightly. She hadn't realized how tense she was until then and reached up to rub her neck before glancing up the bar. A boy was seated at the other end, surprising her somewhat. He was young and didn't have any family or friends nearby, leaving him utterly alone but he didn't seem bothered. If anything, he looked… relieved as he smiled up at Tom who gave him a plate of food that he dove into rather eagerly. Devin didn't like it. She'd seen that sort of thing before, been through it herself. Scarfing down food because you didn't know the next time you'd get some or when someone would fling a curse across the room turning it inedible. It made her feel sick and when Tom placed her food in front of her, it took effort to get herself to pick up her fork and eat it.
I can't get involved with every lost soul I bump into. I can't. I know how that turns out and I've been through enough already. Devin closed her eyes and quickly finished her meal, thanking Tom and heading back up to her room, hoping that she wouldn't have to see that boy again and risk getting involved in more trouble than she was already in. Between the vision she had about Sirius Black, Sybill's death, and the visit she was going to have to take to Hogwarts that afternoon, she had enough problems. She needed to compose herself before she made her way to Hogwarts and thinking of the small, dark-haired boy alone at the bar would only distract her.
So, she retreated to her room for the moment, stripping down and sorting through her clothes for something that would make her feel safe. She wouldn't dress to impress him and she wouldn't wear mourning robes. Sybill wouldn't want her to, so she pulled out a pair of jeans and a white button-up. Something simple that made her feel comfortable and while it was very muggle of her, she could only hope it made her even more unassuming to Dumbledore. She doubted that the man even remembered her and hoped to keep it that way.
She moved toward the shower and let out a soft sigh at the hot water drawing the tension out of her body. She immediately relaxed and turned her attention to the runes tattooed on her arms, idly naming them and rolling through their meanings as she washed up. When she'd finished and stepped out, feeling far more refreshed than that morning, she dragged a hand through her hair and glanced at the mirror over her shoulder.
Her small smile of comfort vanished at the long scars that trailed from her temple and shoulder across her spine toward her ribs. She could still remember every second of that night. The scream that tore from her own throat, white-hot pain lacing through her as she clung desperately to the little boy in her arms. The massive werewolf behind her snarling as blood slipped off its claws, and its jaws rushing forward. Her strength gone, blood pooling beneath her, and arms falling off the boy whose scream was cut short by—
Devin sucked in a sharp breath, shaking as she stared with wide, glassy eyes at the shattered mirror spotted with blood from her knuckles. She turned away and closed her eyes, taking a shuddering breath and forcefully pushing the memory—the vision—away. She didn't have the time for that reoccurring nightmare and knew that boy had been the trigger for that one. Her Sight was being overly sensitive with all the sudden changes and she needed to get a hold of herself. The last thing she needed was it acting up while she was at Hogwarts.
Still, the thought of her little boy lingered as she dressed, bandaging her hand, and she settled once more before the desk with a smooth piece of jasper in her palm. The deep red stone had been the first rock her little Orion had connected with. Of all the gemstones she had in her home that one had called out to him and now that he was gone, it felt ice cold in her hands. It still comforted her though and she held firm to it for a while before tucking it away and grabbing her tarot deck.
She flipped through the cards with nimble fingers, shuffling them with only one thought in mind: how her return to Hogwarts would go. A card fell from the deck mid-shuffle and she paused, eyeing it with a small sense of unease. She flipped the card over and frowned lightly at the Tower card.
"Sudden change," she murmured, straightening it on the table. "An upheaval in the usual, chaos…"
She kept shifting through the rest of the cards before stopping, removing this one from the deck herself.
"The Three of Swords… heartbreak and loss and…" She set the deck down and drew the top card, leaning back against her chair as worry trickled through her. "The Devil. Fucking hell. He's not going to make anything easy will he?"
She flicked it onto the table with the others, heaving out a heavy sigh and tipping her head back against the chair as she closed her eyes. The reading didn't bode well for her. She was mourning and not herself, which would easily lead to complications when dealing with someone like Dumbledore. Her trip would bring about a change in her life but it could be interpreted as either good or bad. Something was going to happen that evening and she wished she could be even slightly prepared.
There was no chance to do so against him though. Even knowing what was coming wouldn't save her from him, so she just had to begrudgingly accept that she needed to be cautious when she arrived. She couldn't be fooled by his grandfatherly act and hoped beyond hope that he wouldn't remember the shy young girl who'd been brought to his office after a severe bullying incident. The girl who passed out with a Sight the second he offered her a lemon drop. He hadn't realized what it really was at the time and she begged the universe that he still had no clue or this trip would be over before she even got anywhere.
Before she could dwell on it for too long, she got up and finished getting ready, building up her confidence so she didn't turn up looking or feeling inadequate for her sake. It's just a quick hello and some food, then I can hole myself up with Sybill's things and leave. She paused, frowning slightly as she realized Sybill might have a lot of things and begrudgingly emptied her trunk onto her bed before shrinking it to bring with her. She could figure out how to get stuff home afterward. The last thing she wanted was to take multiple trips to the school.
She left her room and went back downstairs, feeling a small roll of relief at seeing the boy gone, before Tom caught sight of her.
"Going out?"
She nodded, offering a small smile. "Yes. Not sure when I'll be back but should return at least for that drink."
He chuckled and nodded, waving her off as she stepped outside and closed her eyes. She took a long, slow breath before letting it out and twisting on the spot, apparating away and appearing on the worn gravel path in front of the gates of Hogwarts. The castle looked as dark and foreboding as usual even in the daylight and the temptation to just turn around, go back, and go home was nearly too much. But she reached into her pocket, grasping at that stone of jasper, and took a deep breath.
"Into the fire," she murmured, letting the breath out and approaching the front gates.