The Life and Times of Arjulia Rigel

October, 1990 A.D.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh months dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives.... The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies...."

Dumbledore looked at the young witch in a frightened expression. "Oh dear," he mouthed.

"Is something wrong?" Ms Trelawney asked.

"My goodness, have you any idea... never mind," Dumbledore said. "You start on September 1^st."

"Oh thank you Professor Dumbledore! Thank you!"

Dumbledore left the small room in the upper floors of the Leaky Cauldron. "Oh dear, oh dear." He was about to close the door when he heard the same eerie voice speaking from inside the room.

"The child born to those betrayed by their leader will cower as the tenth months dies...Only to be awakened once more when the storms recognized her as the Medjai... Born to one magical blood, the other, not. Yet her power is uncontested to all...Destined to guard he who has the power to vanquish the Dark Lord... No wand will become her..."

Dumbledore couldn't believe what he had gone through. Two prophesies?

"Umm, good day, Ms Trelawney."

James answered the door of his comfortable home when the doorbell rang.

"Hello James... Merlin knows I bring no glad tidings for you," said a weary Albus Dumbledore.

"Albus, what are you doing here? You didn't need to take such a long journey," James replied in a happier tone, offering to take his overcoat.

Albus silently rejected the offer. "I need to speak with you and Lily this very moment."

"Oh, of course," James led into the living where Lily was cuddling an infant boy on the couch.

James stood behind the couch, holding his wife's shoulders while Albus stood in the center of the carpet.

Albus began, "It has come to my knowledge that... no, I must go further back." Albus shifted his stance and began again, "Just earlier this afternoon I was interviewing a replacement for a retiring Divination teacher at the Leaky Cauldron. I believed I hadn't found I was looking for when she began to prophecy of one who has the power to vanquish the Dark Lord."

"Who was it, Albus?"

Albus caught himself looking down at the calm child in her arms, taking a deep breath, he said, "Harry..." he looked at them sternly, "I know you will agree with me that I was not the only one to hear of this. Such a busy and bustling place the Leaky Cauldron...

"That is why I'm here to assist you in anyway to help you stay hidden from Voldemort."

"What is to be done?" asked James.

"I'd suggest a Fidelus Charm."

Lily nodded and looked to James, "It's what we have to do, James."

"Alright, but Sirius has to be our Secret Keeper," James said stubbornly.

Albus knew Voldemort would go straight to him because of his family, but went along because James trusted him so much.

So in exactly one day, Sirius Black became the Secret Keeper for the location of the Potters. The day after that, Sirius came to them and they changed the Secret Keeper to a short, rat-like man named Peter Pettigrew.

On the third day, the local pub on the outskirts of Godric's Hollow area, a young lady who looked to be about 20 or 21 years old, was sitting on the bar with about seven or so burly men surrounding her.

"So yer tellin' us, youn' missy, that choo'll drink 21 shots o' firewhiskey and still be able to put us all en a bindin' spell?" said the biggest of the men.

"Seeing is believing, mister," she replied mischievously. "But don't let me have more than that, I get a bit flirty."

"Oy! Chap! Get this little lady here her drinks. And I'll wager that." He dropped about six knuts in her little change purse.

The lady held it out so all the burly men could put their wagers in.

The bartender came back with 21 little shot glasses of firewhiskey on a tray. As she drank each of them, all the men shouted the number along with it.

When she got to her third, all the men shouted, "THREE!"

By this time the woman noticed a short, ugly man walking, almost running, over to a taller gentlemen in a black cloak who was waiting for him.

"THIRTEEN!"

"It is done sir, the Potters have made me their Secret Keeper..."

Huh? The lady thought.

"FOURTEEN!"

She tried desperately to listen to the conversation, but had to appear as if she wasn't listening.

"SIXTEEN!"

A snap happened in her brain and suddenly she could see where James Potter was. The Fidelus Charm was lifted. So she hurried through the next three drinks.

"TWENTY!"

"Come Wormtail. Potter will meet his end." The shorter man cackled along with him out the door.

Wormtail...thought the lady. Potter...

"James..." she whimpered mistakenly out loud.

"Who be that?" asked the smaller of the burly men.

"Never you mind."

"TWENTY-ONE!"

Everyone cheered and the lady hopped down from the bar. She brought her hands near her ears and snapped her fingers.

All the burly men fell to the floor in a binding spell.

She grabbed the winnings in her change purse and tied it to her waist on her way to the door. Then taking a very drunken first step out the door, she saw that the Dark Lord and Wormtail had disappeared.

"BUGGAR! Buggar, buggar, buggar..." she swore, running down the street. She quickly apparated to the front of the house where James and Lily were; only to be knocked over by the explosion of Voldemort ripping off the front door along with a section of the house.

She tried throwing her most deadly curse at him, but when she extended her arm... nothing came. Nothing.

She was powerless.

Then, right before her eyes, Voldemort's Kedavra Curse struck James. James had screamed and died before he even hit what was left of the living room wall.

"No..." she muttered. Dropping to her knees, she couldn't understand why she couldn't save him. Why couldn't she use her powers at the one moment she needed them? She came, she saw, and failed.

Everything became silent except for a small ringing, even when the house exploded from within. She let the debris hit her freely.

But she didn't care. This was worse than dying. Only guilt and despair ruled uncontested in her mind now.

A third blast came, much stronger than the two before, and she was thrown across the street and into the neighbor's yard with pieces of wood and cement. Little Harry was undoubtedly.

She curled up on the grass, and grasped a fistful of grass angrily in her fist and watched, unfocused as the house burned to the ground. The orange and yellow flickers and green auras reflected in her brilliant blue eyes.

"I have failed you Godric..." she said to the thin air.

Suddenly, a red translucent sphere materialized and enveloped her. It whisked her away westward faster than the human eye could follow.

Sixteen years later...

"AAAAAaaaaaAAAAAAaaaHHHhhhhhhHHHhhhhhhh!!!" yelped Arjulia. "I HATE LIGHTNING!!!"

Crash! Rumble Rumble.

In the soaking rain, Arjulia Rigel ran down a road flanked by telephone poles and forest in her hometown of Salem, Massachusetts.

" The lightning strikes are getting so close! Why did I have to miss the bus and have to walk all the way home!! Good thing I didn't have to carry any books home," she thought.

Arjulia ran and ran, her red Yugoslavian wool bag flailing by her side. Her navy sneakers were splashing and squishing in the puddles of water as she ran. Back when she sat in her Political Science lecture she re-tied her laces so they tied in a bow near her toes instead of where they were supposed to be. She was very proud of her craftsmanship. However, they were doing her no justice now.

She left her burgundy-brown plaid button down shirt open showing her vintage Ramones tanktop. It wouldn't have kept her any drier anyway.

Her jeans were drenched all the way up to her knees, which slowed her running.

She couldn't run much longer, she was getting tired too quickly. Arjulia just slowed to a walk when--

SNAP!

Electricity surged through Arjulia's body and for a single moment, pulled her head and feet in opposite directions. Despite how long the average lightning strike takes, this one held onto her. A violet aura consumed the lightning from within and exploded all the energy from her. And she fell to the ground.

"Awakened again..."she spoke softly.

Arjulia slowly woke up by first cracking open her eyes in the middle of the deserted road, and the rain had calmed to a light drizzle. Her long, raven-colored hair had molded itself into the crevices of the road. Everything was blurry, but she felt no pain at all; in fact she felt better than ever.

But a different person.