In My Dreams [Draco Malfoy]

chapter fifteen: the turning point

A/N

Hi, guys! This is a double update.

Also, I just finished my summer semester and classes won't start up again for another month. So, I will have more time to update!

Thank guys!

-Mya

INDIGO

After revealing himself as Barry Crouch Jr., the fake Moody launched into a long explanation of how he had escaped from prison, how he had regained touch with Voldemort and eventually went on to kill his father, Barty Crouch Sr.. I knew that he was just answering the questions Dumbledore asked him under the influence of Veritaserum, but something about the manic look in his eyes and his insane grin made me feel like he was actually looking for pity points. It was infuriating to watch, but then he finished, grinned wider and his head collapsed onto his shoulder with exhaustion.

The teachers—Dumbledore, Snape and McGonagall—all looked disgusted, and Harry still looked stunned with disbelief. But I just stood there, my anger fading and a thick fog of numbness settling in.

Cedric is dead because of this man, I thought, and he doesn't even have the faculties necessary to be capable of remorse. What a damn waste of time.

Dumbledore then used the Incarcerous Spell to bind the unconscious man, and turned to me.

"Miss Costa," he began, his voice sounding more like Dumbledore now, "I have an appointment in my office, but would you be willing to talk tomorrow morning?"

He didn't have to say what about. I knew he would want to know how Cedric had...

I nodded. "Yes, Professor," I said, the words coming out tired and resigned.

"Professor McGonagall, would you please take Miss Costa to the Hospital Wing?" he asked. "I believe she is in need of some rest."

"Of course, Professor Dumbledore."

As much as I didn't want to go with McGonagall, I didn't fight the offer of getting some sleep. If I went back to the Ravenclaw Common Room, I wouldn't get a moment's rest. Not to mention, they would all want to know what happened and... I didn't really want that either.

I followed Professor McGonagall through the corridors in silence. She was looking at me differently now. Professor Dumbledore must have told her about me, she was Deputy Headmistress. Though, perhaps, she had her own reservations about seers.

In McGonagall's defense, the only other seer she actually knew was Professor Trelawney, who was pretty popular for giving false predictions and whipping out the "my-grandmother-was-the-famed-seer-Cassandra-Trelawney" card whenever it suited her. Because of her great-great-grandmother, Professor Trelawney had the Sight in her blood (there was no doubt about that, at least) but she tended to make it seem like she had visions more often than she probably did. The fact that my own came so regularly was unusual, even for an ability as rare as this. As old as McGonagall was and as many students as she's had, she couldn't have met more than ten of us, and even that was pushing it.

As I followed her to the Hospital Wing, I couldn't help wondering what she thought of me. I had never seen Professor McGonagall scared. Tonight was one of the few times I had seen her surprised. But what did she think of me? Was she scared of me? Did she still not believe me? I couldn't have been the 'kind' of seer she was expecting. I wasn't like Professor Trelawney, after all. I didn't treat the Sight like some kind of party trick that I could pull out at will, nor did I go around letting everyone know. McGonagall herself was one of the less than ten people on the planet who knew about me, though I imagine she would deny that fact if I shared it with her...