Four Eyes of Pharaoh

Chapter One- The Beginning

To see what we have never seen,

To be what we have never been,

To shed the chrysalis and fly,

Depart the earth, kiss the sky,

To be reborn, be someone new:

Is this a dream or is it true?

Can our future be cleanly shorn

From a life to which we're born?

Is each of us a creature free -

Or trapped at birth by destiny?

Pity those who believe the latter.

Without freedom, nothing matters.

- the Book of Counted Sorrows. (Anthem)

Harry was rather abashed to learn Gryffindors would have their Dark Arts classes with the Slytherins this year. The whole way to the dungeons, Ron kept babbling excitedly about who the teacher would be this year. He was convinced it was going to be Professor Lupin. Harry suspected it wouldn't be Lupin after the parents owled their distaste for werewolf kind in his third year. He didn't know whom to expect because the night before, at the Sorting, there had been no new teachers at the staff table - despite this, Harry had a hunch that they'd have someone different from last year.

As the Gryffindors and Slytherins filed into the now familiar Dark Arts classroom (Slytherins on the right, Gryffindors on the left) they were startled to see a female teacher. She had a mess of curly blonde hair muddled around her face, and she didn't look at all cheery. She was about 2 inches shorter than Harry's 5'9, and Ron absolutely towered over her. She stood in front of the desk, with her hands stiff at her sides.

"I hope you will all be on time next lesson," she said pointedly to the students, " as you are precisely five minutes late." Harry thought it would have been a nice voice if she had been merry. "Now, as I am told you have covered-" she shuffled through some old pieces of parchment, "Easy and moderate dark creatures, Unforgivable curses, and you have also done vampires and werewolves." She smiled a bit. "Have I missed anything?"

Hermione's hand shot up in the air. "We also did hags, and ghouls," she replied promptly, a smug look on her face. Harry noticed Pansy Parkinson glaring from across the room. Since Hermione had been made a prefect and Pansy had not, there was a great deal of animosity from Pansy's end.

"Oh, you don't honestly think Lockhart was a suitable teacher, do you, Miss Granger?" she asked. The students snickered; Gilderoy had been a terrible teacher. "By the way, I am Professor Cade."

"We will be learning general Defence and a bit of Magical History. I assure you, I don't teach like Binns." She smirked, and there were a few more snickers. "We will also be studying Magical Creatures, and we will spend a brief period on Curses and Potions. This is your 5th year, your O.W.L. year, and we are revising in this class, as is customary. The tests are rather hard, I'll warn you, so pay attention." She pointed at the chalkboard. "Anything I write on this board will be duly noted by you, unless you are certain you already know it." She glanced at Hermione.

"Now, I have a question, an important question, so think hard." She paused, pursing her lips, as if figuring out how to word her next statement. "What makes your enemies?"

Hermione raised her hand promptly. "Your beliefs, and your upbringing," she replied.

"Yes," The professor commented slowly, "but not entirely, thus it isn't the answer I'm looking for. Anyone else?" Hermione appeared miffed.

There were several other attempts by Seamus Finnigan and Blaise Zabini, but both answers were rejected.

Not one hand went up for about a minute, then Neville's shaking hand appeared, "Yes, Longbottom?"

"Your allies make your enemies, Professor Cade," he said, his voice small although he simply beamed at the teacher. She smiled in an obscure way, and Draco snickered.

"Good, good, Neville. Ten points to Gryffindor," she said happily, "Your allies make your enemies, or more precisely what you do and what your allies stand for. Tell me, how many of you harbour ill feeling towards another school house?" She let that sink in as nearly every student bowed their heads, and tried to look utterly innocent. "That is exactly what I'm talking about."

Draco snorted obnoxiously, "What are you talking about?" he exclaimed, inciting giggles from his other housemates.

A silence filled the room as Cade and Malfoy stared each other down. Malfoy ended up averting his eyes first.

"Mr. Malfoy, pick up your things," Cade demanded. Draco looked shocked, but complied. "Now leave my class, and do not come back until you are ready to apologise to the class, and to me, for disrupting the lesson."

Ron was shaking and turning purple from the effort of holding back laughter. Harry too, was quite smug. The class continued without further events, everyone gave their new and unusual teacher their undivided attention, not that the class was interesting but that they didn't want to be kicked out either. As class ended, Cade called Harry up to her desk.

"Yes Professor," he said, looking at her warily.

"Mr. Potter, I would like you to come here at lunch break - I need your assistance. Tell your friends it's detention." All Harry did was nod, and wonder why.

* * *

An hour and a half later, Harry dragged his feet to Professor Cade's office, next to the DADA classroom, still wondering why he was in trouble. He opened the door only to find her sitting behind a mahogany desk in Muggle jeans and a sports sweatshirt. Her curly hair was back in a messy bun and she wore thin-rimmed glasses. She was opening all the drawers and slamming them shut, muttering "bugger" all the while under her breath.

Making sure to close the door, but not letting it click, he re-entered the room with a loud knock and clearing his throat.

Her head snapped up quickly. "You don't honestly think I didn't know when you really walked in, do you Harry?" she enquired. Although her tone seemed severe she smiled, and Harry thought she looked surprisingly pretty for a teacher.

She flicked her wrist and a high backed chair that was originally against the far right bookcases skidded out to rest in front of the desk. "Please sit," she said in a businesslike tone.

He did, and sat in her office much like he sat in Professor Dumbledore's office, feeling scrutinised and guilty of something. She extracted an envelope with recognisable loopy handwriting. It was addressed to 'Harry Potter', and obviously from Sirius. He kept a straight face and tried to figure what angle she was coming from. Was she a friend, a foe, or concerned person not on the 'need to know' list?

"Do you know who this is from, Harry?" she asked, her Irish brogue turning his name up at the end more than usual.

Harry remained silent, his face perfectly inscrutable, but the way his feet incessantly shuffled gave him away.

"Because if you don't, my first option is to open the letter and read its contents... for you safety, of course," she said slowly, "and my second option would be to burn this letter, so as not to put myself in an uncomfortable position." She raised both finely shaped eyebrows. "Now, what would you recommend...if you don't know this letter's origin?"

Harry thought, considering his teacher and the letter. He figured if she had any intention of going through with either of her options, she would have done so without his permission. "I would...recommend that you give the letter, a private letter, to the person it is addressed to, professor." He spoke softly, and chose his words carefully, looking at his Professor for any change in expression. There was none.

"Very well, Mr. Potter." She handed him the envelope. "You may leave," she said curtly.

Harry got up quickly, and almost jogged to the exit, but Cade's curt voice cut through before he could get out the door. "Say hello to Sirius for me." Harry balked, and looked at his teacher questioningly. She only smiled at his cluelessness and waved her hand impatiently, "Go on, go on, you can still catch a quick lunch."

Harry left for the Great Hall with a feeling of both relief and trepidation. What was the Defence teacher playing at?

* * *

Dear Harry,

I'm hoping this will reach you before you start your week. Your Defence teacher is helping me out by being there to watch you. Harry, it means a lot to me, so don't give her a hard time.

Buckbeak is fine and getting fatter by the day - no surprises there! He says thanks for the turkey bones you sent from the Dursleys. I'm all right too. I just wish I didn't have to run around and hide, like I'm a wild animal...okay, I am a dog sometimes, I know, but not a murderer. I'm sorry for dumping this on you Harry, I just feel so useless. How can I protect you when I can't even sleep in a house?

I have a lead on Pettigrew. A friend of mine saw him down Knockturn Alley.

See you soon,

Love Sirius.

Harry smiled to himself. So, Sirius was going to be in London, then Hogwarts. Harry couldn't wait. He also was tremendously relieved that he was wrong about Cade being a Death Eater!

* * *

Severus waited for Potter to leave, not out of any sentimental respect nonsense for him, but because Adrianna Cade didn't much like interruptions. In fact, Adrianna Cade didn't like anything much.

After Potter had left, Snape made his way to the office door, and briskly knocked.

"Yes?" came the muffled reply. "Ms. Cade, I want to speak to you." He didn't bother with the niceties of "please".

The only reply was the sound of a slamming drawer and trudging footsteps. The door snapped open, and Snape's jaw dropped. What was she wearing? Had she no pride?

"I assume you don't like my attire," she said, a chill in her voice. She narrowed her eyes at the Potions Master, and looked him over critically, "You don't look to great either, Slick."

Severus inwardly groaned. 'Slick,' referring to his hair, had been just one of the names he was called in school. "You just look so... Muggle," he said a bit uncomfortably. He sighed, "Forget our clothes for a minute, I found something that may interest you."

"Uh-huh, and that would be?" she inquired; stood squarely in the doorway to make it clear he wasn't exactly welcome. Despite this, her tone had change slightly.

Still curious, he thought privately. "May I have a seat?" Adrianna made no move and Severus sighed again. "Have you ever heard of the Four Eyes of Pharaoh?"

The door immediately opened, and he was shown inside.

* * *

Harry sat in the Gryffindor common room, watching Ron play wizarding chess against Ginny. Harry was surprised at the fact that she almost beat him several times. They had both been down to their last three players, including the king, yet somehow Ron got out of it.

Hermione was sitting next to Harry, reading 'Hogwarts: a History' (put it in single quotes to show it's a title) which was tattered from constant reading. She made a distinct "humph" noise.

Harry looked over her shoulder at her book, "What? Has something changed?" he teased.

She looked at him dubiously, "No, but I just caught onto something."

"Ah, what?" he asked, hardly interested.

"The page numbers. Page one tells of the creation of the school. Page two tells of the disagreement of Slytherin and the others. Page three explains the expansion of the school itself. It's amazing really, the attention to detail." She glanced up, and saw the incomprehension. "Harry! One in Numerology means the beginning, two controversies among other things, and three is growth. It goes on and on, every significant number in Numerology has its own page that means what the number means."

"Hermione, you are reading way to much into this. Pardon the pun."

"No I'm not! One thing you don't seem to get, Harry, is that everything has consequence. Absolutely everything!" she said, her eyes gleaming at the prospect of argument.

"Alright 'Mione, whatever you say," he said slowly. What was her problem?

Their conversation stuck in his mind as he lay in bed that night - not so much her reaction, but the very words she had used, "everything has consequence", echoed in his mind.

* * *

He woke up when something heavy hit his chest, something fat, fluffy, and purring. "Err...Crookshanks! GERoff me!"

That cat sat there, and Harry could feel its eyes on him. He moved the cat off him, and scrambled for his glasses on the bedside table. Bleary eyed he slurred to the cat, "Whadya wan'?"

Crookshanks' large eyes, illuminated with the late moon, flicked from him, to the foot of his bed repeatedly. After getting up and stretching languidly he walked to the foot of the bed, stepped on Harry's trunk and sat there peering at him. His eyes never wavered from Harry's.

"Alright, fine. I get it, get in my trunk," he said to the cat, more than a little perturbed.

Harry swung his legs over the bed lazily, and stumbled to his trunk. Crookshanks hopped down, and looked expectantly at him. Harry grumpily opened it, "Now what?"

A groan was emitted from the bed next to Harry's, "What're yoo'doo'n 'Arry?" Ron garbled at him.

Harry rolled his eyes, "Nothing, Crookshanks just woke me up. Go back to sleep."

Ron's head, which was face down in the pillow, jerked up. He opened one puffy eye. "I couldn't possibly--" Ron yawned long and loud. "Go back to sleep Harry."

"It's your choice." Harry rummaged quietly through his trunk, not knowing what to look for or expecting anything to catch his eye. Something did. The Marauders' Map was lying on top of his old 'Standard Book of Spells' collection. He pulled it out, "Is this what you want?" he asked the cat, feeling really unintelligent.

Crookshanks stretched again. He cocked his head at Harry and appeared to grin. Amazingly, Crookshanks nodded an affirmative.

"Ron, did you--" Harry began to say, but when he looked over at his friend, he felt a need to attack him. He was asleep.

Harry shook his head. Pulling out his wand, his murmured "I solemnly swear I am up to no good."

The map came alive. Mrs. Norris's dot was chasing a house-elf down the Charms corridor, and the house-elf's name was a bubble that read "Dobby". Harry smiled at the thought of short Dobby, running away from the 'dangerous' Mrs. Norris.

Something else caught his eye. Professor Cade and Professor Snape were in her office talking, but a spell, said by the dot, which was Cade, appeared and particularly caught his attention. "Obliviate".

Harry sat shocked for a while, She must be evil.

Had Snape found out that she was indeed a Death Eater? Perhaps he confronted her, and she needed to get rid of his memory so no one else would know... but Dumbledore had hired her...

Wild images of Professor Cade's evilness ran through his head, but were stopped by another thought. Maybe it was something a lot less evil than that; maybe he asked her to put a Memory Charm on him.

This idea didn't sit well with Harry either.

What could Snape have done today that was so terrible that it would make it necessary to have her erase his memory, anyway?

Harry began to yawn; he felt his eyelids protest at staying open. He decided he would talk to Ron and Hermione tomorrow to try to figure it out. It was probably just yet another scheme of Voldemort's from which he would again have to save the day.

* * *

"And you are a bitter witch!" he snapped.

"Well, I may be bitter Slick, but at least I don't harbour ill-will towards a child. An orphaned child no less!" she bit back, her eyes icy and unfeeling

"You--You know nothing! Nothing!" Snape sputtered. Hurt was evident on his sallow face.

Her expression softened a bit, "I'm sorry, let's forget it," she replied evenly.

"Yeah, right. I wish I could forget it."

She smiled as she took out her wand, "Obliviate."

She looked at his blank face, thinking back to the last sentence where they had been civil to each other. "You just told me about Potter's midnight expedition and disregard for rules."

"Ah, right. I must have drifted off. It's terribly late," he replied, gradually coming out from under the spell. "I suspect he has an invisibility cloak, but I can't prove it. Would you know if James had one?"

"No, I was never close to James, as you well know. I can't remember him ever showing it off though, so I doubt it." She half-lied. She was never a friend of neither James's, nor Sirius for that matter, but she had been employed to sew up a hole in the cloak after some adventure in their third year.

"Yes, he often did show off. That snivelling excuse for a student." A grimace surfaced on his face.

Adrianna smiled; it made Severus a bit uneasy, because when she smiled like that, she looked quite mad. "I have a proposition for you, a... bet. If I find Potter wandering around the halls at night within the first two weeks, I win. If I don't, you win."

Severus quirked his eyebrow, "What would you want, saying that you win?"

Adrian chuckled, "I want to give you a haircut. I was thinking something along the lines of what you used to have when we were in school. It was the opinion of some that you were rather dashing. Not handsome like James or Sirius, but dashing. Much like Mr. Potter is to Mr. Malfoy," she sneered.

Snape scowled, "Are you comparing me to Potter?" after a pause, "That's not an important question. You would bet for a haircut? I like my hair. And if I was so dashing, why was I taunted with 'Slick'?"

"First two questions: Yes, and yes. Third question: That was in first and second year, when you had the hair you do now; greasy and grimy. By the way, do you do it on purpose? Do you stick your head in bacon grease every morning or something?" she teased.

The professor pouted, "I have a sensitive scalp."

Cade rolled her eyes, "What would you want? I know I don't need a haircut."

The professor steepled his hands and looked around her office thinking of what he could get. He smirked wide, a look with all the malice he could muster. "I shall determine this if... when I win."

"Oh that's terribly unfair! What if I don't want to agree with it? Listen here Snape--"

"Snape is it?" he remarked snidely.

"Fine, I prefer Slick too. If it is something utterly ridiculous like running around the school stark naked--"

"Is that what you would prefer to do, Adrianna? I'm sure Dumbledore would be supremely tickled," he drawled. "So, we agree?"

Adrian crossed her arms, and gazed at the lit fireplace at the left of her desk. A sigh rose from her chest, "Okay... but I'll win."

"Shake on it, Ms. Cade?" He stood and extended his hand. She too stood and placed her hand in his, although she grimaced at his touch.

"Severus, I appreciate you coming down so late to give me a Pepper-Up Potion. You know how I despise travel by broom," she said, yawning at the end.

Snape chuckled menacingly, "Yes, I remember your Quidditch try-outs!"

It had been a rather cold day, but all of the students were out on the Quidditch pitch watching the Quidditch team try-outs. The eligible students were trying out for their house team. The elder team members would pick the best players for the spots they had open by seeing the skills of the students in action. Along with some elder players, the would-be members would play a round of Quidditch against another house, and from their performance, they would be chosen for the house team.

Severus sat on the sidelines - he had already been chosen as Slytherin Keeper. He now watched the Gryffindors try-out. A girl with a stuck up nose and curly blonde hair was being nagged and scoffed at by Sirius Black.

"What, are you too chicken, Cade? Or are you just too good?" he cried. "That's it, isn't it? Miss Oh So High and Mighty can't play a common game on a common broom."

Severus hoped the Gryffindor would do well just to shut Black's big mouth. Ever since his ride on the Hogwarts Express, Sirius Black and James Potter had given him nothing but grief. Just last week they had thrown chicken blood on him at dinner.

With a look of determination on her face, the girl kicked off from the ground, ascending into the crisp blue sky. Ravenclaws were zooming around in their blue team robes over head.

Someone screamed from the crowd as they saw a red figure speeding toward the ground. No-one moved but Remus Lupin, a friend of Potter's and Black's. "Wingardium Leviosa!" he bellowed. The red Gryffindor, who Snape realised was the taunted Cade, hung three metres above the grass.

A worried Professor Donis ran to where the girl now lay, whilst Remus tried to wake her up. As Snape stood, he noticed Cade's pale face and a single trail of blood coming from her prim nose. Her eyes were rolled back into her head.

As Snape stood there, he realised something. Adrianna Cade was as old as he was, and he had never noticed her in school. He didn't remember her from any classes, and he couldn't remember ever seeing her Sorted. Of course, he thought, I can't remember a lot from school. I hate ageing, he thought.

"Oh, how funny." Adrianna yawned. "Now get out!"

"Um, aren't you going to the teaching quarters?" Snape asked acidly.

"No, I'll sleep in here, thanks," she replied.

Snape gave her an odd look, but left all the same.

* * *

Harry yawned at Ron, who was shaking him awake. "You git, get up! We need breakfast, and it won't be there much longer!"

Harry sighed. Why was food such an issue with Ron? "Alright, fine. I'm up. Wait for me in the common room."

A short laugh, "I won't wait for long; Hermione's already in the Great Hall."

Harry breathed deeply through his nose, noting the smell of jasmine that the room had. He dressed and brushed his teeth quickly, hoping Ron would wait just long enough. He planned on telling Ron and Hermione about Crookshanks and the Map.

He mentally kicked himself. You bloody idiot, you forgot to owl Sirius.

By the time they found Hermione, there was ten minutes until they had to be in Transfiguration, so he spoke quickly. Hermione's incessant questions annoyed him no end.

"Well, I am sure there is an explanation, Harry. Anyway, I would have thought better of you! Spying on people! That map is nothing but trouble," she chastised.

"For the love of all things holy, Herm, it was your cat that instigated it," he pointed out. She dutifully ignored this as Ron scarfed down a third helping of bacon.

"Well," Ron began through a full mouth, "Maybe we should watch her, see what she does. I honestly don't think she could be a Death Eater, I mean look at what she did to Malfoy! It's almost as cool as Professor Moody turning him into a ferret!" Seeing the pained look on Harry's face, he snapped his mouth shut.

"That's--That's my point, she may not act like a Death Eater, and what happens if we don't bother? If I could have known Cedric wouldn't have--"

Hermione cut him off, "Cedric wasn't your fault Harry! You couldn't have figured it out; not even Dumbledore knew!"

Harry sat in silence. At the beginning of the summer he had barely slept. His dreams were full of green flashing light and dead people, but every dead person had Cedric's blank stare and his permanent look of surprise. And he always heard that laugh. Harry shivered as his mind recreated it. A high hissing noise, like something that would come out of a lunatic asylum. He had eventually learned to sleep without dreaming, and live without feelings, except for one - guilt.

"Harry!"

He snapped back to the present.

"We need to go Harry, or McGonagall will skin us like shrivelfigs." Ron said, gulping down the rest of his orange juice.

* * *

"Hello Mr. Malfoy," she said happily, smiling in a maddening way. How Draco hated that smile.

He extricated himself from Blaise Zabini's legs and, less importantly, the cupboard. Blaise was trying desperately to button up her shirt. Idiot, he thought. He smiled complacently, "Yes, Professor?"

"What, pray tell, are you doing with Ms. Zabini?" she asked in the same disinterested voice, but her furious eyes betrayed her calm demeanour.

"Nothing, just a little game." He smirked. "Oh!" he cried with delight, he reached his hand into his pocket, "This is for you." He handed it to her, and smiled jovially.

She narrowed her eyes, but opened the letter. She smiled brilliantly. "'Dear Adrianna Cade--' Oh, how terribly formal," she teased. "'If you do not let my son, Draco Malfoy, back into his class--' Blah, blah, blah, yadda yadda." She glanced at Draco's hate-filled face; "I must skip to the juicy parts!" she laughed. "'You will be taken from your position at Hogwarts within the month, Lucius Malfoy.' I am assuming Draco, that this is your apology letter?" she asked scathingly.

"Does it look like an apology?" he asked innocently.

She shook her head, "No, it looks like burning material." Before Draco could protest she said, "Incendio!" and the letter was promptly devoured by flames.

"My father--"

"Your father is not your teacher. Let me inform you that if you do not apologise, you will remain out of my class until it's deemed worthy to be on your to-do list. This means you get behind in school, and when your father," she spat with distaste, "does finally sack me, it will be well over a month. You will eventually have to catch up, taking away your snogging time with Ms. Zabini on Saturdays, and snogging Pansy behind her back many Sundays." Blaise looked furious but Draco didn't care. "But, if our young Malfoy doesn't catch up, he will repeat fifth year because I doubt he will get enough O.W.L.s without my help, by the look of his grades." She emphasised the last sentence. "The choice is yours. Spend your time wisely before the next lesson, because coincidentally you have DADA."

Draco watched her sashay down the hall, not making a sound as she went. Blaise slapped him hard in the face, and he replied with rancour, "You know I like an aggressive woman." Blaise smiled despite herself - she already knew about Pansy, and she didn't care. Draco's abilities made up for his lack of commitment and respect for women.

He held out his arm, "Shall we?"

Draco was glad to see she accepted.

* * *

Harry, Ron, and Hermione took their seats in the Defence classroom. Cade wasn't there yet, and the students were getting rambunctious. They were unpleasantly surprised to see Draco's face among the crowd.

The door to the classroom opened slowly to a smiling teacher. Most of the students had never seen her smile before; they thought it odd or "Bloody freaky" as one student said later.

"Today," she said as she walked into the room holding a huge deck of cards, "we will be learning how the Tarot can aid you."

Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron and mouthed, "Not another quack!" Ron stifled a laugh.

"I generally don't believe in crystal balls and tea leaves, highly unreliable. Palmestry can be an art, Astrology a science, and Arithmancy a second mathematics. Tarot, on the other hand, isn't based on instruction. It's technique, and talent." Professor Cade said. She extracted a huge deck of square cards. "I, myself, never use the Lesser Arcana - too many possibilities. The Major Arcana, or the character cards, come in handy to discover a person's true nature."

She began to shuffle the cards and the rapidity of her hand motions increased until the cards were literally flying out of one hand to reach the other. The cards one by one stopped in a fan on thin air.

Professor Cade smiled at the look of awe on most of the students' faces. "I have to say, Tarot was about the only skill I had in magic for a long time. As I'm sure you know, any form of Divination is rare, even Tarot."

With a flick of her wand, the thin air the cards were resting on solidified into a thin oak disk-shaped table. It was small, and barely held the many cards.

"In the original Major Arcana there are 22 cards, but I have made many of my own. My total card count is 47. The trick in Tarot isn't memorising what some author said the card stands for. You must take the card aside--" She abruptly stopped.

"Mr. Malfoy, are you going to apologise, or are you going to have Daddy write me another threatening letter?" she snapped.

Draco stood up unabashed and smiled reassuringly. "Oh, well, I am sorry for my inept rudeness the other day and would be obliged if you would admit me back into the class," he said with a bow. Snickers came from all sides.

The teacher in turn mock bowed. "That is the only kind of apology I would expect from the son of Lucius. You are the spitting image of your father, boy. Have a seat," she ordered tiredly.

Draco, unbeknownst to her, grimaced at being called "the spitting image" of his father.

"You must take each card aside and think over what it means to you, then apply that to the person who drew the card. It isn't guess work when premonition is involved." She looked around, and Harry noticed she had little bags under her eyes. "Who would like to volunteer?"

Lavender Brown raised her hand, as did Ron and Hermione.

"Miss Granger come up here please, and choose a card."

Hermione got up, and walked primly to the little table, her black robes flipping behind her quick feet. She stood there looking at the cards for some time, then picked one. She pulled it toward her, dragging it across the wood but not picking it up. Hermione looked expectantly up at the professor.

"Show me your card," she said softly. As Hermione flipped it, Professor Cade smiled. She picked it up and showed it to the class. "This," she said gesturing to the card. It had a picture of eight men dressed in white looking up at the sun. All eight were staring straight up except one, who looked directly at the viewer. "Is the Sceptic, a card of my own device. As the others look up, towards whatever deity, he looks forward, not accepting what gossip and legend provide. You see how he has books at his feet? He is a scholar, and what he learns and knows is truth is what he believes in." She looked again at Hermione who was standing before her. "Do you accept your card?" she asked.

Hermione, being exactly as the card portrayed her, shook her head. "No, it's nonsense. Divination is the most inaccurate branch of magic! It's stupid."

A long silence filled the room. Hermione was standing tall, challenging her teacher, and her teacher looking down at the Tarot cards.

"That is your opinion, and obviously you drew the right card. You can have a seat." Professor Cade spoke softly, her toneless voice drawling every word.

Hermione did so immediately, a smug look on her face. She obviously thought she had done something magnificent.

The class continued, and everyone chose one card, which they remembered. Harry picked the Hierophant, which Professor Cade explained meant that he followed intuition and always sought to meet his goals, whatever they may be.

The big surprise was when Neville got brave and raised his hand.

"Yes, Mr. Longbottom?" Professor Cade smiled at him again, and it wasn't that crazy I-know-something-you-don't smile but oddly a smile of affection.

"What is your card, Professor?" he asked.

"Ah, I was hoping someone would ask that question - thank you." She pulled a card out of her robes. "This is the Lady of Shadows. She's two faced. One eye looks behind, the other ahead. It generally means that until a certain point in your life, you'll be one person, and then you'll have to make a decision. This decision will make you who you will be for the rest of your life. Most if the choices don't cause dramatic change - mine did." She looked thoughtfully at the maiden on the card. "She's rather disturbing, is she not?"

No one knew if she was poking fun of herself, or being serious, so only a few odd murmurs of agreement were heard in the room.

"You may leave now." She said to the class as the bell rung, "I'll see you next week."

"Next week?" Seamus asked, a note of apprehension in his voice, "Our timetable says we've got a lesson with you last thing on Friday, so why are we excused?"

She glanced at him and began to put things away. Most of the students had left except for Hermione, Ron, and Harry. They were hoping to hear everything they could. Hermione had decided they would research Adrianna Cade this weekend, although Harry and Ron knew nothing of it. "Well, I ...friend of mine is in a jam at the Ministry, I'm going to go bail him out of deep sh--stuff. Damn the Werewolf prejudices." She scowled.

Seamus left quickly as Harry piped up, "We had a teacher who was a werewolf, you know."

"Aye, Remus. They locked him up down there because of the approaching moon. They don't actively give out Wolfsbane potion, too expensive, they just leave 'um in a cell together to see who's dead by morning." She bit her lip a bit. "Don't you worry about the Wolf-man. They'll let him out, if I have anything to say about

it. They'll listen to me."

"And, why is that exactly, Professor?" Ron asked in a gruff astonished voice.

She chuckled, and for a minute seemed almost as human as they were. "Well, let's just say, I have some friends."

* * *