Chapter Twenty-nine:


Diagon Alley somehow looks much more magical than the last time. Maybe because this time, I'm actually taking it in without the nerves of seeing it for the first time. I just lean back and look around.

After we grab our textbooks, we split up. Molly takes Percy and Ron to get new robes. Arthur takes Ginny to get some ice cream. And Fred, George and I walk around the alley.

We swing by Quality Quidditch Supplies, and ooh and aww over the new broom on display. Too bad none of us will be able to even dream of affording it.

We then navigate the crowds to Zippie's Joke Shop. There's nothing too good there, though, so we leave again almost immediately. Most of the stuff in the shop were uncreative prank ideas.

We grab ice cream before going to meet back up with Molly and Arthur. We are the first ones at the Leaky Cauldron, something that everyone else looks surprised about. I'm not surprised; the twins aren't known for their incredible timing skills, but I like to be punctual.

I stagger out of the fireplace, coughing and choking on floo powder and ash. I hate floo travel. I'm not asthmatic, but I still cough and splutter every single time I do it.

We're in the middle of eating dinner when the vision hits. One second, I'm lifting a giant bite of spaghetti to my mouth, the next mist is obscuring my vision. The last thing I'm aware of before being sucked in is the feeling of falling and several loud exclamations of "Kenna!"

When my vision clears, I'm standing in the same forest. Quirinus is nowhere in sight and all I can hear is muttering and some gutteral hissing. It sounds like a snake would.

"He failed me. He must die." Voldemort's cold chilling voice fills the air.

A man comes stumbling into the clearing, bouncing off the trees and tripping over his own feet. He completes his act with an over-the-top stumble and faceplant. Then he just lies there.

Quirinus appears with a triumphant expression on his face. "I found him, my lord. He was in a bar in the Southside."

"Kill him." Voldemort orders.

"No! Please. No!" The guy on the ground starts screaming, begging not to be killed. Of course, where Voldemort is concerned, that doesn't make a bit of difference.

"Avada kedavera." A jet of green light slashes through the air and hits the drunk on the ground. An ear piercing scream tears through the air, and then complete silence.

I jerk upright, gasping for air. Molly sits back on her heels, her expression right of the utmost concern.

"Kenna dear, can you hear me?"

"Molly?" I ask, glancing around the kitchen. A forkful of spaghetti lies next to me on the floor, splatters of tomato sauce coat the walls, and other than Molly, there's not a Weasley in sight. "What happened?"

"You fell out of your chair. You were just lying there, and then you screamed and went completely still. Should I owl your mom"i should."

"Molly, I'm fine. That's just a vision." I say, taking a deep breath. "I'm a seer. Once in awhile, that happens."

Molly doesn't look convinced. In fact, she looks more than a little freaked out. Can't blame her really; it's not every day a twelve-year-old collapses, screaming, onto the floor of your kitchen.

"Can you just call Professor Dumbledore instead"if you have to call anyone, I mean. He's the only one who knows. My parents are Muggles. They don't want a part in our world." I say, fighting a yawn. Postvision exhaustion.

Molly makes me wait in the kitchen while she calls Dumbledoreddi go ahead and eat an extra forkful of noodles from the pot (I used a different fork), before finishing off my now lukewarm spaghetti. I have to eat what I dosed for, otherwise I'll go low. Which, according to my DexCom, I'm already headed there, anyway. I pop a few glucose tabs after eating.

"Kenna dear? Professor Dumbledore would like to speak with you." Molly says. I nod and head into the living room.

Dumbledore's disembodied head floats in the bright green flames. He gives me a jovial smile as I sprawl out on my elbows so that we're somewhat level.

"Makenna, my girl. Molly said you had a vision? Can you describe it for me?"

After I describe my vision, Professor Dumbledore makes me promise to alert him if I have another one before finally letting me go. It's a good thing he did, as my CGM is currently bleeping rather loudly, letting me know that despite the two glucose tabs I ate, I am still low. I have no idea how Professor Dumbledore was able to ignore it.

I down two glasses of pumpkin juice and disconnect from my pump for twenty minutes before going to find Fred and George. I feel I owe them an explanation.

"So, Kenna, care to explain why you fell out of your chair and looked as if you were having a seizure?" George asks.

"Leave it to you to be blunt. But yeah. There is." I nervously twist a few strands of hair around my fingers. "Ever since I was little, I had these dreams. And they were always accurate. I started having these crazy detailed visions when I started at Hogwarts. You probably remember those. I just kind of brushed them off." They nod. "I just hate being different."

"Oh, come on, Kenna. You're different and you're awesome. And you have to be different to be friends with us."

That is most definitely true. Someone has to be willing to deal with a lot to be friends with Fred and George Weasley. You get pranked (a lot), you laugh until you cry, you spend half your time in detention and the other half running from the professors. But, most importantly, you get two very loyal friends that will stay behind you all the way. And let's be real, everything's better with friends.

A/n: Another on time update! I'm on a roll. Unfortunately, I'm out of prewritten chapters so I'll have to do some writing this weekend. In other news, I have aTwilight fic up. It's called Defying Gravity, and I'm really proud of it.

Question: Should Kenna try out for the Quidditch team? (Review your answer.)

Please review. They keep me motivated to keep posting.



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Nadettez: Who doesn't love McGonagall? I like Sprout, too. They're both good teachers.