"Harry! It's awful!"

"Ron? Are you--"

"I'm not okay!" he burst out. "I'm not okay!"

"Calm down, Ron!" Harry reached out and grabbed his friend's shoulders to steady him. He was trembling uncontrollably but stopped his raving when held still.

"I had another nightmare…." Ron whispered after a pause.

"But, I thought that you didn't--"

"I LIED!" he yelled, getting worked up again. "I'm a big, fat liar!"

"It's okay…"

"No! It's not okay! I dreamed that You-Know-Who attacked the Ministry's office. All the dementors and everything were there!" He shook his head. "What if it comes true, Harry?"

"How can it come true?" Harry asked, puzzled. "Everyone gets dreams but they're never--"

Ron interrupted. "All of my nightmares…. When I dream that someone dies, they do! My dreams come true! They're real!"

"But--" Harry started once more, cut off again by Ron saying, "Percy was there! He was there!"

Harry didn't quite know what to say to his friend. If what he said about the dreams and deaths…. "It's okay, Ron. Maybe this nightmare was a real nightmare."

Ron closed his eyes and shook his head. "I have a bad feeling that it's not."

Harry sighed. "Well, what do you want to do?" he asked. "Do you want to report it, although if it's true, it's probably already out in the news."

Ron shrugged. "I don't know." He sighed and looked Harry in the eyes. "Am I cursed?"

The other was lost for words. What could he tell his best friend? How could he answer that question even when he was as confused as he was?

Ron turned away from him when he didn't answer. "Well, I think I'm cursed," he muttered. "I think that I am really cursed."

* * *

Darkness. Darkness behind closed eyes. Andeline opened them.

The whisper…. Andeline got up off the soft, green grass under the tree, left the shadows of the leaves and branches.

Andeline walked slowly by the lake, the blue water sparkling in the sunlight, dancing and gleaming. The depths were of sapphire, the shores clear and jade. She looked at the pebbles at the bottom of the lake, showing clearly near the bank, fading away into depths farther out.

They can take care of themselves…she thought.

A voice whispered. They are the Chosen…

The blonde girl stopped dead in her tracks, suddenly intent.

It repeated with icy certainty, serene as the calm breeze: They are the Chosen…

Andeline slowly took a step forward, looking blankly at the ripples in the water flowing to the rhythm of the wind. Her faced was touched with surprise.

Her footsteps grew steady, quicker, faster. She strode along the water, feet away as to not fall in, but her motion was unconscious; she walked swiftly without much thought to her destination.

The wind blew forcefully from behind her abruptly, fanning her light hair out in front of her as she slowed and stopped her pace. Her cloak flew around her, whispering in the breeze as Andeline lifted her face to the sky, closing her eyes to the light from the sun, closing her eyes to her thoughts.

Andeline opened her eyes, looking at the cloudless sky, turning so that the sun was not directly in her eyes. The atmosphere was tinted with blue, calm blue, light and tranquil.

Voices began to speak around her, whispers inaudible save few words. The rest were lost to the rush of the breeze or the flood of words. Andeline picked several phrases, but to no meaning. She began to walk forward again…

…and her head snapped to the right. She started. Had she seen…?

No. Not possible.

Immediately the sounds quieted around her except one voice still heard, still speaking, as if directed to her.

Andeline sighed. State how to prevent it.

A cold breeze rose again, chilling her even in the warm sunlight that bathed her. She shivered and closed her eyes, listening to the wind although she knew the answer before she even asked.

* * *

"What do you reckon we're going to do in Charms today?" Harry asked.

Maybe…we'll be doing giants," Hermione answered, to be followed quickly by Ron's unhappy remark: "We've been doing giants for almost three months! I hope we'll do something different!"

Harry shrugged. "We can probably do giants for the whole year! I wonder if I'll ever get that charm down."

"I think I've got it," said Hermione.

"Really?" Ron said sourly. "I knew you would get it soon enough."

"Come on! You two must have already gotten it!" she trilled. They shook their heads. "Anywhere close?"

"Er… Sort of," Harry murmured.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's not that hard!"

"Maybe it's not that hard to you!" Harry exclaimed.

Hermione scoffed and walked on. They entered the Great Hall and looked around. It was breakfast time, and for once, Harry and Ron were early; not many people were even out of bed yet.

Ron's mind once again settled on his nightmare, the one with Percy. He was arguing silently to himself whether or not to bring the subject up when Harry helped him along with it, whispering, "Do you want to ask Hermione about you dream…er…nightmare?"

Ron shrugged. "You think she'd know any more than we do?"

Harry raised his eyebrows at his friend. Ron sighed. "Oh, yeah. Hermione always knows…." he said, shaking his head.

"What about me?" Hermione asked, not looking up from the book she was reading.

"Hermione?" Ron asked, looking at her. "When are you ever going to finish that book?"

She looked up with an arched eyebrow. "I'd like to see you read it in less than a year," she said coolly.

"Okay! It's just that you read too much!" Ron told her.

She shook her head subtly but smiled as well. "So, is that what you two were discussing?" she asked in a voice that said her ears were all open. The two boys paused, Harry unsure what to say and Ron unsure if he wanted to tell. Hermione frowned. "Well…."

"Er…" Harry began, catching Ron's eye.

"Hermione!" Ron interrupted suddenly. She sat back a little at his outburst. "You know about my nightmare? The ones where I'm in, like, someone else?"

She inclined her face and peered at him skeptically. "The ones that you said you weren't getting anymore?" she asked slowly.

Ron sighed. "Yeah…kind of." There was a brief hesitation and Ron carried on in the silence. "Well, do you have any idea what they are? 'Cause I've been having these really horrible ones, and they seem to be coming true."

That seemed to catch her attention as she questioned, "In what way?" She still looked doubtful, but fearful as well. "How can dreams come true?" she asked in a small voice. Yet, it sounded as if she was considering it instead of telling Ron.

"They have been," Ron explained. "I had one dream where I was the attacker. I recognized the victim though, and it was Mr. Crandler…you know?" Harry and Hermione shook their heads and Ron continued on. "You don't know him? He's dad's friend…" Ron paused, looking upset. "He was dad's friend." He shook his head and let out a breath. "You didn't know him. The next day, I found out that he had been murdered."

Harry and Hermione watched Ron apprehensively.

"But--" Hermione started, and stopped, lost for words. She looked miserably from one friend to the other.

"They all happened like that," Ron spoke. "My nightmares, and the next day…death." He looked unnerved.

"Well," Hermione said, trying to find a reason for bizarre consciences. It couldn't be true? Dreams were not real….

"There is no 'well' Hermione!" Ron exclaimed. "Somehow, my mind can see what is happening from other points of view! I've even died before! Not technically, but--you know what I mean!"

All was silent except for the buzz of students coming into the Great Hall and Ron's shallow breathing. My family…he thought. My friends…

Ron looked at them, eyes showing that there was more. "I had another one…worse than all the others." Hermione sighed at that. Ron continued above her breath: "I've already told Harry…." He paused. "I saw an attack on the ministry." Hermione gasped distinctively, eyes opening a bit. "Percy was there. I don't know really what happened to him. I saw the ruins of building though, and the Dark Mark in the air."

"Percy's not…" Hermione started.

"I don't know what happened!" Ron snapped defensively. He apologized when he realized his tone of voice. Swallowing, he asked, "Are they okay?" His eyes had a tint of plead within them.

Hermione turned away from Ron's anguished face a bit, her eyes moving from his, while Harry stayed silent, lost for words.

* * *

The gem could feel power, the power that its host and its master had been feeding it, whether intentionally or unintentionally. But the gem could also fell an opposite power, a power that could destruct the one it built on, its one purpose. The gem throbbed silently. It knew that it had to destroy this bright ray of hope.

The gem began to softly glow. It's power would be at full height in a few months. As it pulsed, an illusion of red eyes surfaced from the depths of it's green. The eyes were dark, cold; contained nothing but evil within it. The eyes seemed to sneer.

* * *

The Great Hall filled with students just arriving. They talked and created noise, noise that somehow made Ron feel better.

After their talk, the three friends had sat in silence. That had sat with their heads full of questions, full of possibilities and coincidences that they all analyzed and prodded and poked at. Ron's, in particular, buzzed with so many 'maybes' as he stumbled to find a 'maybe' that his vision had been a normal nightmare, one that didn't come true.

Then the mail came.

Ron saw an owl swoop down toward him, a sinking feeling entering his stomach as the bird fell in a rush of feathers and wind. A worse thought entered his mind as he made that the messenger was Errol.

Why would Mum use Errol? He's too old… Anxiety clawed at him. What if the news was so urgent that they had to use him?

The thought was not calming.

The owl dropped the letter in Ron's lap, then tumbled the rest of the way down to the ground with a soft thud, unconscious before he had even touched the floor.

"Errol!" Ron heard Hermione screech. Her voice was not important though… Errol was not important. His whole mind was fully on the letter that lay on his lap, the letter that held news so urgent that Errol had to send it.

"Ron?"

Harry was not important, but Ron forced himself to reply: "Yeah?"

"Are you okay?" Harry asked, worry painted on his face.

"I dunno…" Ron muttered, mind not fully on what his friend was saying. The letter… The letter would tell him what news was so vital, what news he had to know, whether good or bad. But he couldn't force his stiff fingers to open the letter.

"Harry?" Ron asked in a whisper. "can you open it for me? I can't…."

Harry slowly took the letter from Ron. Hermione crowded in with Harry, obviously over the condition of Errol and fully on what was troubling Ron. With a subtle tremble in his fingers, Harry opened the letter. It was apparently from Ron's mum, but it was not cheerful, smudged in places with tears and written in shaky hand.

"Read it, Harry?" Ron croaked.

The other sighed deeply. He looked down at the words in his hands.

Harry paused. He couldn't bear to read on. Hermione's eyes were larger than he had ever seen, wide in horror and pity.

"Go on, Harry. What'd she want me to know?"

With a pause, Harry continued.

Ron breathed in suddenly. Harry's next words seemed very loud, ringing in his ears, bells of anguish, pain, and sorrow.

* * *

Andeline saw Ron hurry out of the Great Hall, Harry and Hermione following him swiftly. Hermione had her hands over her mouth, looking terrified. Harry seemed paler and in shocked silence, a piece of paper in his clutches. The three of them ran toward the owlery. Andeline didn't think. She just followed their leaving backs.

The girl stopped.

She began to run again, silent and hasty. She didn't even make a sound.

Ron, Hermione, and Harry were writing a letter. At least, Ron was. They quickly tied it to a barn owl's leg. The large bird took off into the sky.

Harry seemed to be thinking after the owl had taken off. Then, he too started writing a letter as fast as his hand could move. He gave the letter to his owl. Stroking Hedwig, he let her spread her wings and fly off to follow the other into the sky.

Andeline ducked into the shadows as the three of them came running out of the owlery, in her direction. They seemed to be headed toward Gryffindor Tower. Andeline stayed in the darkness for a few seconds after they passed her, then took a deep breath before following.

* * *

"I can't believe it!" Ron gasped, still running, half out of breath, half from shock. "I told you my dreams come true! I told you!" Harry and Hermione didn't say anything. "Oh…." he moaned. "The Ministry! They're in havoc! Those who survived don't know what to do!"

They reached the portrait hole and Hermione muttered, "Shining Stars." The fat lady looked at the three of them skeptically, then opened. Harry, Ron, and Hermione slowed down after they entered, walking to their dormitories to grab their books and day supplies. They met in the Common Room, silent.

Ron sighed. "And we're off to Transfiguration…." he said unenthusiastically.

Harry nodded, murmuring a "Yeah," just as indifferently as his friend. "Let's go before we're late."

The trio walked out of Gryffindor Tower once more and went down many corridors and hallways wordlessly. They walked in an unthinking manner, as if they knew involuntarily where to go, until they reached their classroom.

A muffled rush of words was running throughout the class. Harry wondered if any of their classmates had heard about the attack on the Ministry. It appeared so, because everyone turned around to look at the three of them, sympathetic faces shining in the crowd, all toward Ron. He practically ran to his seat, desperate to hide from his classmates' stares.

"C'mon!" he hissed at Hermione and Harry. "Hurry!"

The three of them sat together and peered silently at the floor, occasionally at the other students. Sometimes, Ron spotted Harry looking at him for only a brief instant, then turned away as if not to offend him. Ron did not blame his fried: if he were in Harry's position, he would not know what to say.

Why? Ron thought desperately, grasping through his mind for the answers that were not provided. Why?

His train of thought was rudely interrupted by Hermione. "Ron?" she whispered. "Are you alright?"

He turned to face her, answer plain on his face.

"Don't brood…please?" she said, uncertain. "I'm sure Percy will be fine…." she finished, doubt etched on her face. Yet, she had been trying to sheer him up, and Ron heard the misery in her voice. His gaze moved to see Harry's paled face.

"It's okay," Hermione said distractedly, her eyes on the floor once more.

Ron inhaled. "Yeah," he managed to say. "I'm sure everything will be okay." He shook his head. "Don't feel bad for me, okay? I don't need sympathy."

Harry and Hermione smiled at him a little, looking awkward. Ron would've tried to smile back if he had not known that it would only turn into a grimace. So, instead, he said, "Hopefully, we won't have a pop-quiz today."

"Yeah," the other two said at the same time.

"I wonder what we'll do," Ron spoke. "Do you think Professor McGonagall will assign something hard?"

"Probably," Harry answered.

"Hermione will get it, no doubt," Ron said. She gave him a look, but delight was in her eyes.

The Professor entered right then, and the class was abruptly put into work-mode. Ron did not mind the tasks for once. He was glad that it took his mind off of the other things that plagued it. He was also glad that his two friends had gotten over pitying him and onto the matter at hand. There was no point in having them worry over him when there might be other things to focus on. Other things….

A strange sense suddenly washed over him, ice and flames, heat and rage. It passed as a wave would over water, and was gone, but left the tingling cold and heat in his bones.

"Ron?" Harry asked.

"W-what?" he started. He blinked several times and shook his head, his thoughts clearing. "I'm fine," he stammered a bit. Harry nodded, still looking a bit concerned, but turned back to his work as Professor McGonagall drew closer to them. Ron turned to his own task.

How strange… he thought. Am I going crazy now?

He forced the thought out of his head, telling himself to concentrate.

* * *

Vetil daydreamed. He was sitting in the Potions classroom while Professor Snape was busy lecturing everyone. The class was simple enough to the point of too easy, and the boy was bored as he stared at his cauldron.

How did Andeline see the truth? He shivered involuntarily, memory surfacing as the illusion of flames danced before his eyes.

All lives lost, he thought. No one could have survived that…

Vetil looked up. Professor Snape was sweeping across the room in his usual fowl temper.

"You call that a potion?" he insulted April. "It's too thick! Ten points off Gryffindor!"

Vetil looked down at his own concoction. It must've been just right because the professor only scowled when he looked at it, passing quickly to take more points off. Vetil smiled inwardly to himself.

* * *

Christmas was nearing. The temperature dropped, and two weeks before the holiday, it snowed.

Ron had nearly forgotten about his visions. Mrs. Weasley had sent them good news a few days after the attack. Percy was well, and they were attempting to reconstruct the ruins.

"Oh! Good!" Hermione had exclaimed, relieved when Harry read the news (Ron did not want to touch the letter).

Ron, too, had felt relief. From the look on his friends' faces, he knew they weren't too worried anymore.

When the second sheet of snow covered the Hogwart's grounds, the three friends took a walk outside. They exited the building and went toward the lake, occasionally grabbing a bit of soft snow and tossing it at each other.

"Harry!" Hermione squealed when one hit her. She glared at him and flung a ball she made at him while Ron splattered him while he wasn't paying attention.

"Hey!" Harry yelled. "No fair!" He wiped the snow off his glasses, where it had conveniently landed.

Ron laughed. "C'mon. Let's go to the lake. I wonder if it's frozen."

"I doubt it," Harry said, eyes mischievous.

Ron looked at him suspiciously, but was too late to stop the snow that attacked him. Ron shook the white flakes off of him. "You're gonna get it!" he shouted.

The three laughed, running toward the lake while dodging each other's ammunition. By the time they reached the lake's bank, they were gasping for breath, one, because they had been running, and the other because they were shocking from laughter.

"Truce?" Hermione managed to say in a fit of gasps and giggles.

The two boys nodded, agreeing. Ron wiped a layer of snow off one of the rocks by the edge. He sat down, seeing Harry and Hermione doing the same. They took deep breaths and sat in silence until they could properly talk once more.

Hermione sighed. "I love the winter snow."

"Yeah," Harry approved. "It's so peaceful."

Ron looked at the soft fluff covering the ground around him. It had a mysteriously comforting look to it, as if it were clouds. He debated if he could just fall on it and go to sleep.

Hermione cleared her throat in a manner that did not suggest a happy remark. "Er…Ron?" she asked. He looked at her. "Well," she said timidly, "I'm not sure if I should bring this up right now…but, are you having regular dreams now? I mean, have you had a nightmare again? If you have, you can tell us…"

Ron shrugged. "I haven't, and that's the truth."

Hermione nodded. Ron wasn't too sure if she believed him. It looked as if she had something on her mind.

"Um--" she started.

The bell for dinner rang, echoing through the white-covered land. Silence followed.

"Yes, Hermione?" Harry asked.

"Oh…nothing. Let's go to dinner."

The two boys slowly got up. Hermione nearly jumped out of her seat as she hurried toward the castle, Ron and Harry watching her briefly with a baffled gaze. They looked at each other, then turned to follow their leaving friend.

Commotion filled the Great Hall. All the 7^th years were looking very excited about something. The girls kept whispering to each other secretively while the boys glanced at the girls. Harry, Hermione, and Ron looked from one to the other in question as they took their seats.

About halfway through dinner, Professor McGonagall stood up and looked at the students. She seemed more radiant than usual. The chatter died down slower than normal, and when it was finally absolutely silent, the professor began to speak.

"As some of us have already heard…" (Some 7^th year girls giggled), "we are having a dance for 7^th year students only. This is their Christmas ball, one that can congradulate them for making it this far." The professor beamed at her students. "The ball will take place on Christmas Eve, while all remaining students above their 3^rd year go to Hogsmeade."

There was an excited uproar for the rest of dinner. All the 7^th year students were taking about the ball while the 3^rd years and above that were staying fro Christmas (Harry, Ron, and Hermione included) discussed Hogsmeade. The second and first years sulked, saying that they never got any fun.

"Oh! Imagine going to Hogsmeade on Christmas Eve! How fantastic!" Hermione said, absolutely buoyant.

"Yeah! I can buy your Christmas presents there!" Harry said.

Ron glanced down the table at Parvati and Lavneder, who were both yapping about what they were going to buy. Farther down the table, he saw Vetil and Andeline. Ron frowned. He hadn't seent he first year girl in a long time. She must've gotten good at hiding herself.

He turned around to look at his other two friends who were eating their dinner. He began to say something when a white flash exploded behind his eyes.

"It's almost ready," a cold voice said from somewhere.

Ron glanced at Harry. He didn't notice anything strange, but all the sounds from the Great Hall were dimmed, and the voice spoke again, ringing in Ron's ears.

Another flash blinded him for a moment, and in that instant, the voice laughed, making the hair on the back of his neck stand up, filling his head and echoing in his mind. Then, it was gone.

Ron glanced around the hall. The voices were back to normal and he could hear clearly once more. No one had noticed anything.

What was that? A vision? he thought. He trembled slightly.

Ron looked at his friends. Harry and Hermione were talking. Ron doubt that they had noticed anything.

I…he thought. I won't tell them.

But…a voice spoke from inside his conscience, no more lies…

Ron bit his lip. Should he tell Hermione and Harry? He really didn't want to worryt hem, especially at a time like this. It was Christmas, and their cheery feelings would sink if the visions were mentioned again.

But, a part of him argued.

* * *

Andeline swung around. Had she heard someone calling her name? She stared into darkness and shadows, only few torches lighting the corridor, flames dancing wildly in the opaque.

The blonde girl shivered, wrapping herself tighter in her robes. She too one last searching look down the hallway and turned to walk back the opposite direction. She stared blankly ahead, walking a swift pace.

Andeline nodded. My destiny, task, is to find the one. It is your purpose to find the possessed.

The voice said again, I feel it…the evil…

Yes, Andeline answered. It is growing stronger…

What happens if we don't? Andeline started to jog down the corridor. She had a sickening feeling that someone or something was present by her…watching her…

Silence rang around her.

If we don't, the voice continued, then another generation of hope is lost…

Andeline ran, the small hairs on the back of her neck standing up. Something burned into her back, eyes boring into her…

Andeline nodded to herself. She turned a corner, still sprinting deeper into the darkness. She kept running, words flooding her head, thoughts from other, thoughts from herself.

The girl abruptly stopped, the words disappearing from her mind. She slowly turned to her right, rotating on the spot. She caught her breath, eyes searching, wide.

A fierce wind suddenly swept into her, sending her loose hair flying everywhere.

What? she thought, confused.

She clutched tightly at her robes and trembled. The relentless wind kept flying at her and around her, dancing to the night, dancing to the sound

Andeline gasped. There was no mistake now. She had heard something, even beyond the wind.

The storm of air flew on in fury, and suddenly the torches went out. She was plunged into darkness, freezing, paralyzed in fear. The wind blew to a breeze, slowed, then stopped. Silence rang aournd her, loud as silence could be.

Then, someone said her name.

She lost her nerve, spinning on her heel and sprinting blindly into the pitch, black, darkness. Allt eh while…the voice called, chasing her, following her…

Andeline…