Claws || A Marauders Fanfiction

*~ Dumbledore's Meeting III ~*

⭑ ~🟎☾⭑I solemnly swear I am up to no good ⭑☽🟎~ ⭑

"Miss Prewett!" Startling Sam, Professor Flitwick appeared from around the corner, his robes trailing on the ground behind him.

Noticing the scared expression Sam wore he added, "Dumbledore has requested for me to come get you."

"Dumbledore?? But I haven't done anything!" Sam exclaimed, dumbfounded as to why the headmaster required her presence at midnight. Nonetheless, she followed her head of house, rubbing her eyes furiously.

"Acid Pops!" Flitwick shouted at a gargoyle which subsequently moved aside, revealing a tall spiral staircase. Sam started to walk up the stony steps before looking behind to see Flitwick was not following her.

Shrugging, Sam walks up the steps arriving in front of a large wooden door that swung open, revealing Dumbledore's office. Dumbledore gestured towards a velvet chair across from him as Sam made her made across the room.

Cabinets full of vials and potions were to her left, an assortment of magical objects to her right. A soft night breeze blew in through one of the open windows, the night sky littered with twinkling stars. Sitting down, Sam looks up to see hundreds of wizards sleeping in their paintings, snoring softly.

"Ahem," Dumbledore clears his throat. "Good evening, Miss Prewett."

"Evening Professor." Sam mumbled, quite nervous.

"I hope I wasn't interrupting anything-" Dumbledore begins, his eyes twinkling behind his half-moon spectacles.

"I swear Professor whatever it is, I didn't do it!" Sam blurts, earning a chuckle from the headmaster.

"You are not in trouble Samantha. This is merely a continuation of our last conversation. I understand when we met last spring you had just experienced your first vision; quite young for them." Sam's eyes widened in embarrassment, not too fond of the memory.

"I must apologize for retrieving you so late in the night, I didn't want to cause any unnecessary attention from your peers. I brought you here in hopes you accept my gift."

"A gift for me? Why?" Sam asks quizzically.

"Even Headmaster's have their flaws, Miss Prewett. While I like to be illuminated in many subjects taught here, Divination is not one of them. I cannot predict the future nor prevent it from happening, which leads me to this," Adjusting his glasses, Dumbledore searches through his desk drawers, pulling out a very old purple book, handing it to Sam.

"I am not a Seer, Samantha. I do not know what you experience, what you see, or when these events happen. To best understand, I am in need of your help. I want you to record any visions you've had, every little insignificant detail in that book of yours."

"But, Sir, why? What if they're useless?" Sam fidgets with the book covers, avoiding eye contact.

"No magic is useless Samantha. I feel it necessary to comprehend why you see the future others can only dream about. You could have visions of years from now, the next day, or mere minutes from now. To understand the future is to understand the present. Rumors could turn into reality, and reality to that of a dream. I do not know what made you a seer, nor do I of the claims of another student, Miss Sybill. That is why I think it is essential to fully understand these visions; of any patterns, any meanings."

"I don't understand." Sam shakes her head.

"Perhaps you are simply too tired, and my words are akin to a babbling beverage. We can discuss further some other time."

"No!" Sam says quickly. "I just mean, there's been other seers before me, hasn't there? Why not look into their visions?" Dumbledore peers over at Sam, who wishes her robes would swallow her whole.

"I can see why the hat sorted you in Ravenclaw," at this comment, Sam sat straight up in her chair.

"To answer your first question, there has been no other seer who has seen these walls in quite some time. As for the latter, the wizarding world has seen some better days, however I must refrain from saying any more."

"But-"

"I suggest you get some sleep, Miss Prewett." Sam's chair scooted itself to the side to allow her to get up and walk towards the door. Pausing right under the entryway of the door, Sam paused, remembering something.

"Sir," Sam says, turning around. "I've had another vision."

Trying her best, she calmly explains her odd quidditch vision in as much detail as possible. Miraculously, instead of laughing, Dumbledore turned his full attention towards the girl, nodding every so often throughout the story.

While Sam could not answer all of Dumbledore's questions, at some point he seemed satisfied, walking up towards one of the cabinets along the office walls.

"Do you know what it could mean Sir?" Sam asks tentatively.

"I believe that the upcoming quidditch game will be quite eventful." Dumbledore says, thoroughly examining a small, unlabeled glass vial.

Setting the mysterious vial down, he glides towards Sam, his lilac robes billowing underneath him, touching the floor. "However, I suppose we must wait and see."

With a knowing look, he ushers Sam out the door, looking as confused as ever. Walking back down the spiral steps, she doesn't bother to even acknowledge her head of house awaiting her at the bottom. Clutching the purple book in her hands tightly, Sam wishes that quidditch would come sooner.

⭑ ~🟎☾⭑Mischief Managed ⭑☽🟎~ ⭑

*~ A/N: -------------------------------------------->

What do you guys think of the chapter titles? Should I make them more fitting to the events, make them numbered, or keep them in these blocks?? Let me know what you think and stay vigilant. <3