White Heather for Protection

Crouching Fox, Hidden Serpent

Ron nudged him in the side. "So what was that about, Hadrian?"

"Yes, what did the Headmaster want?" Hermione asked curiously.

Hadrian hummed nonchalantly. "He wants to meet me." He cast a Tempus. "In half an hour."

"What for?" Ron scrunched his brows in confusion. "You didn't do anything to get in trouble, did you?" He gave an offended look. "Why didn't you let us in on it?"

Hermione rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Of course Hadrian didn't, Ronald! This must be about his episode in Divination. Or the tournament."

Hadrian nodded. "Yeah, probably. I should be going. It'll take a while to get there from here."

"See you later mate!"

"Err, I'll be meeting Cedric later, remember?" Hadrian reminded sheepishly.

"Don't know why you've been spending so much time with Pretty Boy Diggory," Ron muttered petulantly.

Hermione only gave him a too-knowing look and waved him off. Hadrian barely held in his bright-red blush. She was much too perceptive. Or maybe it was just a girl thing.

As he walked off, his thoughts drifted back to his imminent meeting with the Headmaster. He had the nagging feeling that Hermione had been right about the meeting being about the thing in Divs. He bit his lip worriedly. Even Heather had been clueless as to what had happened. He remembered what happened after he had told her.

~~~

"You should have told me the moment your scar started giving you problems!" Heather chided him disapprovingly.

He gave her a chastised look. "I know, and I'm sorry! So do you know what happened?"

She frowned, lost in thought. "You said your scar has been hurting on and off. And this time it was accompanied by a vision of some sort."

He affirmed it, though she wasn't really asking. "It was really odd. It was hazy, like a dream, but not. It was...more real than a dream, if you know what I mean."

"So you're pretty sure that it really happened?"

He nodded firmly.

His sister sighed in frustration. "I...I don't know what's going on," she said reluctantly. "Let's say that you really were witnessing a scene between Voldemort and Pettigrew. Why would that happen?"

"Well," he said carefully, "did he do anything to my scar that night?" He was hesitant to bring it up, knowing Heather was still haunted by the memory.

Her eyes darkened in remembrance. "No. He only shot the spell at you." No need to elaborate on what that spell was. "When it rebounded and hit him, he was destroyed immediately."

"Maybe, maybe it was the failed spell that did something? It didn't work 'cos he didn't cast it properly? So instead it did something else."

She laughed bitterly. "Oh, he had no problem with that spell. He can cast it properly."

He bit his lip, cursing himself. Right, of course she knew that. She'd seen it first-hand, hadn't she? He reached out and squeezed her hand in comfort. Heather smiled thinly and shook her head, as if to clear her thoughts.

"I have to go research this. Spell residues don't usually result in weird mind links. Not unless it was mind magic or something." An odd look passed over her. "Anyway, don't you worry too much about it. And if you feel anything else from your scar, let me know."