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Swirling Fog by Phoenix Quill
Chapter 1 : Prologue: Sight
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 1

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Well, yeah. Since the competition that this is for ends in a few days. And I only just started.



I was never an ordinary child.

Since my third birthday, I’d been able to guess, with almost certainty, my birthday present, even the ones that no one had even hinted at. I could predict rain, and sometimes snow, and once I foretold my brother breaking his arm. By the time my parents were starting to freak out, I was sent off to Hogwarts, where I was sorted into Ravenclaw. I’d spent two years feeling absolutely alone, without a friend, until third year, when I took Divination. The teacher had been amazed at my precognition abilities, and had finally declared that I had the Second Sight, something that hadn’t been present in my family since Cassandra Trelawney, the famous Seer. Suddenly, I was famous around Hogwarts, the first student in about a century to actually have the Second Sight. I gained friends rapidly, only to find that most of them just wanted to know their future, or for me to “magic up a good future”, because apparently Seers could do that. I’d spent another few weeks being depressed, before I met my first real friend - Gretchen Sandford, a Hufflepuff, who didn’t care that I was a Seer, or that I was a little “loco in the coco” as she called it. Strangely enough, we bonded over the fact that she thought Seers were all shams.

Two weeks later, I made my first real prediction, and slipped into a Seeing trance for the first time.

“Sybill, you know this isn’t going to work. Divination is all fake!” I laughed, grabbing Gretchen’s hand and scolding her.

“It will, trust me. Now, hold still.” She grumbled at me but stopped moving anyway. I held her palm and traced the lines, trying my best to remember the parts in the textbook about palm reading.

“That tickles, cut it out!” I rolled my eyes, and stared at her hand. Nothing was happening, why was nothing happening? I stared so long that the lines went out of focus, and Gretchen’s hand was just a tan blur against the blue carpet of the Ravenclaw common room, where we were sitting.

Then, something weird happened.

A sort of jolt shook me. I sat bolt upright, eyes wide. I couldn’t move at all. I could only see fog, swirling all around me. It only lasted a second, but it was enough to scare me a lot.

“Sybill! Sybill, stop! Wake up! Wake up!” I shook my head and stared at my friend, who was on the verge of tears. She was clutching the hand I’d been reading, and my own was hovering in front of my face. I stared at it as if it belonged to an alien.

“What just happened?” Gretchen shook a little, a tear spilling out of her eye.

“You told said I was...” She swallowed, blinking back the tears.

“I told you what, Gretchen? Tell me!” Gretchen took a deep breath, and shakily let it out.

“You told me that I was going to lose my arm.”

Gretchen was an artist. She painted with her left hand, the most beautiful pictures you’d ever see. It was her life, her passion, and her talent.

When she was in fourth year, one of the Acromantulas that had taken up residence in the Forbidden Forest trapped her when she was serving detention there for a stupid prank. One that I’d helped her with, but hadn’t been penalised for.

Her arm was chewed off and eaten right in front of her.

They couldn’t regrow it. Some things, not even magic will fix.

Gretchen blamed me. She thought that I’d bewitched her, jinxed her future, that I didn’t want anyone to be happy.

That was the day I lost my only friend.

That was the day I finally realised that Seers weren’t idolised and revered for their powers. They were hated, feared, and above all, isolated. I found myself becoming even more distant from my classmates, focusing on studying. I planned to be a Divination teacher, because that was the only place that Seers were valued.

But I couldn’t escape the horror that my visions had led me to.

I couldn’t escape the swirling fog that had spelled Gretchen’s doom, and the doom of many other witches and wizards.

The worst thing was, it wasn’t something I could throw away. It wasn’t a trinket, worn one day and discarded the next. It was part of me, my birthright, my heritage, my duty.

I am Sybill Trelawney, and my life has been haunted by doom, and visited by despair, all encased in the swirling fog.

So, yeah. Apologising for the short prologue. I can't write long ones, for some reason.

This will be a short novella, since I have enough novels as it is. And by enough novels, I mean three. One published and two in the works.


Hope you enjoyed, and stay tuned for updates!

Oh, and by the way, I DID UPDATE THE REDHEADED CLAN. Because I don't think anyone actually saw that. Even SunnyWitch only saw it coz I told her it was there. Apparently it's buried fuck-deep under other things? Eh.

Cheers, Phoenix Quill :D






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