Chapter 2: Prophecies
“I foresee… I foresee that you… and you… and you shall die within the end of the next year!” shouted Trelawney with concerned eyes at Rabastan, Antonin Dolohov and Mulciber. They shrugged and laughed at Trelawney.
“You’re such a disgrace to your family, Sybill,” teased Dolohov.
“Leave her alone,” defended Remus Lupin. “She’s only concerned for you.”
“What are you, her boyfriend?”
“Shut up, Mulciber. Now get out of here.”
Dolohov scowled. “You can’t tell us what to do,” he said, although he did leave the field instantaneously along with Mulciber and Rabastan.
“Are you okay, Sybill?”
“I am, but you will die…”
“Thank you, Sybill, but I think I’ll be alright.”
Without wanting to further lengthen the conversation, Remus headed off to where James Potter and Sirius Black were discussing how owls had gotten lazier over the years.
“Unbelievable. Look, it’s Lockhart,” exasperated James.
Indeed, the most popular-yet-disliked male student in school waltzed into the field.
“Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent.”
Half the students booed and the other half cheered. Lockhart was the only thing that Gryffindors and Slytherins could agree on; he was worse than Cornish pixies. Well, most Gryffindors. Notably, Molly Prewitt had a humongous crush on Gilderoy. It was visible to everyone. Not even the Hufflepuff girls could compete with her in terms of loving Gilderoy, and they were quite possibly the biggest fangirls Hogwarts had ever seen.
“Now—” Gilderoy started but couldn’t finish.
About half of those cheering girls—and some boys too—crowded around Gilderoy, some with notebooks, pens, and even expensive cameras.
And Gilderoy pushed through the crowd until he reached a young boy with a camera.
“Sir Lockhart! Sir Lockhart! A photograph? It’s for publicity…” The last part was kept quiet, and only he and Gilderoy heard it.
As Gilderoy posed for pictures, the crowd managed to push Molly out of itself.
“Shunned again, Prewett? To be expected.”
Molly turned around. It was Bellatrix, of course, with Narcissa next to her. Lucius and Rodolphus were lingering behind, and Andromeda was in the distance, walking about with a porlock in her arms.
“So what, Bellatrix? And why do you always take this band of blithering idiots with you wherever you go? Oh, of course. You’re one yourself.”
“Mind your language, Prewett. At least I don’t prance around a self-obsessed maniac like you do!”
“No, you prance around a genocidal dark witch.”
At these words, even Gilderoy’s fans turned around in hope of some drama. Including Gilderoy, who was, beyond words, a fan of himself.
Bellatrix was the opposite of Gilderoy, and hated unwanted attention.
“Cissy, Lucy, Rodolphus, let’s go. This isn’t over, Prewett.”
As the group of evildoers left the scene, the spectators turned back to Gilderoy. Eitherway, they weren’t disappointed.
“Dromeda, drop that filthy creature at once!” screamed Bellatrix.
“Excuse me?! You’re not mother or father that you can order me around,” steamed Andromeda.
Rodolphus decided to ease the pressure. “Bella, why don’t we go play some wizards’ chess?”
“Have you not noticed that I’m a witch, you hairy hobbling haggard halfwit?”
Yes, one of the things Bellatrix Black prided herself about was her intricate insults.
“Well, you boisterous bumbling… umm… b–bub…” “You may as well give up, Rodolphus. No, I will not play wizards’ chess. I’m going to be very busy imperiusing a porlock.”
“You will not perform an Unforgivable Curse on this poor creature, Bella.”
“And who are you to tell me that, Dromeda?”
“If you so much as scratch this animal I will perform the Cruciatus Curse on you.”
“Very well then.” Bellatrix raised her wand.
“Sectumsempra!” But it wasn’t Bellatrix. Before Bellatrix could have performed a spell on Andromeda, Severus Snape had performed one on her.
Once again, Gilderoy was robbed of his attention. Everyone was looking at Bellatrix, giving Severus enough time to run away. Everyone except Andromeda.
Bellatrix fell to the ground, heaving. Blood was gushing out of her body everywhere.
Rodolphus, Lucius and Narcissa ran off to get help. A Gryffindor boy a few feet away started calling Madam Pomfrey.
It was then that lots of people started looking for the practitioner of the spell, but the only one who knew where he went or who he was was Andromeda.
He had run off to the Shrieking Shack, and yes, Andromeda did know of its existence. During one of the many instances in which she followed Severus—because she had a little crush on him—she had been led to the run-down, haunting building, and very nearly crushed by the Whomping Willow.
That’s where and when she learnt the truth of the Marauders, their Animagi and Remus’s lycanthropy.
But Severus was the Marauders’ worst enemy. Why would he run to what is basically their headquarters?
Although she was intrigued, Andromeda decided against going to the Shrieking Shack to investigate, lest she leads the angry mob right to what they’re looking for.
By now Bellatrix was unconscious and losing blood rapidly, but fortunately—or unfortunately—Madam Pomfrey and her assistants arrived, and carried Bellatrix to the Hospital Wing. Narcissa, Lucius and Rodolphus ran behind them worriedly, while Molly smirked and Lockhart pitied himself on what was possibly a loss of publicity.
And the angry mob were certain they knew who the culprit was; Sybill Trelawney.
Precisely three months ago, Sybill had prophesied that Bellatrix would be cursed three months later. The mob believed that, obviously, Trelawney had cursed Bellatrix to show that her powers actually work.
Things were definitely not looking good for poor Sybill, the half-blood disgrace of her renowned family of Seers.
Upon regaining consciousness, Bellatrix saw her two sisters, Lucius and Rodolphus standing around the bed.
“Bella! Are you okay? Do you feel better now?”
“No… Not really. Everything is aching.”
Bellatrix tried to sit up, but couldn’t.
“Madam Pomfrey says that you need to be here another day,” said Andromeda.
Bellatrix was appalled. “Well I don’t care what Madam Pomfrey says. I cannot lie here for a whole day while that rascal Trelawney gets away with what she did to me!”
“But you need to take care of yourself. We’ll handle the half-blood,” said Rodolphus.
“No. I need to take care of her. I’ll handle the half-blood.”
While the argument boiled on, Andromeda realized she was in a huge moral dilemma. She was letting an innocent girl take the blame of the curse when in reality it was her crush who did it. So she decided to kill two birds with one stone.
“But it wasn’t Trelawney,” said Andromeda.
“What do you mean?” asked Lucius. “She’s the one who prophesied that Bella would be cursed.”
“Well I know what I saw.”
“Well what did you see?” asked Bellatrix.
“It was James Potter.”
“James Potter?!”
“Remember how you accidentally burned his Potions book?”
“Yes, but I doubt that a pipsqueak like him would do this to me over that. Besides, I have never heard that spell before. And it is such a dark one, I would surely have heard of it. So the spellcaster himself must have created it, and I do not believe that James has that capability.”
“Why does it have to be him though?” asked Rodolphus. “It could be any of his friends too. Those ones he is always with. Black, Lupin and Pettigrew.”
Bellatrix turned to Andromeda again. “I’m trusting you, Dromeda. Well, if it is James, no one suspects him, am I right? Then there’s no reason for him to flee. I suppose I could take care of him after one day.”
“Thank you Bella,” said Narcissa.
