Draco tried to remain unnoticed in a corner of the room. Death-eaters surrounded him, drinking and conversing about the latest plans. He planned to getaway from this ball, as soon as he could. Glancing at the guests, he spotted a blonde girl heading towards him.

Draco panicked. He needed a way to escape. He looked around frantically for someone to talk to, or for a way to run out. To his horror, none of his friends were around. Out of desperation, he quickly walked over to the nearest person he could find. But alas, he was too late.

"Drake dear, I've been looking for you the whole evening! Did you just come down?" Pansy asked. Draco put on a fake smile and replied. "Hello Pansy. Nice to see you."

"Do you like my new dress, Drace?" Pansy continued, twirling a bit for his benefit. Draco held back a look of disgust, and smiled another fake smile. The emerald dress had a very low cut, and huge gaps were located at the sides. "It's the newest style in Witch Weekly!" she said. "It's...very nice Pansy."

Pansy gave him a flirty smile. "If you want, you can see more skin than this later," she whispered in his ear in a rather rough voice. "No thanks Parkinson, why don't you go talk to Flint over there? I'm sure he'll accept your offer." Draco replied before walking off, leaving Pansy there alone, and baffled.


            Ron took another glimpse at his companion before placing a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter. Unfortunately, a small chuckle escaped.

"Ron Weasley! What exactly is so funny?" Arelle demanded.

"You." He replied before breaking into a fit of laughter. Arelle just glared at him.

"Well, you look weird to, Cedric-clone."

Ron stopped his chortling.

"What do you mean 'Cedric-clone'?"

"Oh please. I can recognize those features as Cedric's!"

Ron broke into a grin. "Yeah, you got me. But at least I'm not a Parkinson-double!" he laughed.

Arelle glared at him, eyes a fiery blue. Her usual pert nose was now like Pansy's; pugged. Her elegant black tresses curled into blond spirals, and her pale complexion darkened. Her lips were bigger, like those of Pansy's.

"Well, I never thought I would see a Weasley without red hair." Arelle retorted.

The two had changed their facial features before stepping off the train. Now, they were on the bus which was bringing them to the airport. Their flight to the United States was still hours away.

"Yeah well," Ron continued, "Meet the first one."


            Albus Dumbledore sat in his office, studying a piece of parchment. He had finally found it. It would play a part in the defeat of Voldemort. A very big part. But first, he needed the second half of the prophecy.

He walked off towards the North Tower. Sybill Trelawney was sure to be found there. He climbed up the stairs and entered her perfumed room. He spotted her, sitting at her desk, peering into her crystal ball.

"Albus, I expected you would come." Trelawney said airily, still gazing into her crystal ball.

"I'm sure you did Sybill." Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling in amusement. "However, as much as I would like to stay and chat, I have to take care of some things. Do you still have the other half, Sybill?"

"Yes Albus, I believe it's in one of those drawers over there." Trelawney got up and walked over to the wooden cabinet. Opening the first drawer, she scanned it briefly, before closing it and repeating the same process on the other two drawers. Finally, when she reached the second last drawer; she smiled and took out an old piece of parchment.

"Here it is Albus. My mother's last prophecy." Trelawney said, handing the parchment to Dumbledore. "Thank you Sybill, I will return it back as soon as I can." And with that, he turned around and left Sybill Trelawney back to her ball-gazing.


            Hermione was dreaming again. There she was in a field, walking around aimlessly. The sky was a bright blue, and there were no other people in sight. She was finding something...someone. She continued strolling forward.

Suddenly, as an impulse, she turned around. Her face lit up in glee as she saw the person.  She picked up her pace as she approached him. He was so familiar. So very familiar. However she just could not place him. She noticed that with each step she took, he was moving a step backwards.

She started to run, a frail attempt to catch up to him. He didn't run away, just stayed where he was. She reached out for him, but before she could touch him, he disappeared. In his place, were a few drops of blood left.