Chapter 4: The World’s Curse

Chapter 4: The World’s Curse

            Elliot walked through his parent’s garden back in Bootle. The cool breeze danced over his legs and arms, but he didn’t mind. He ran his hands over the hyacinth bushes as the overpowering smell of roses washed over him. He always thought that everything in Bootle was more, as though the rest of the world was a bit duller, blander, and quieter. The breeze over his skin was sharper and cleaner, hinting of the sea without overpowering him. The sky was a shade bluer, the world a degree brighter. Even the pungent smell of the garden was something you could almost feel on your tongue.

            For all the magic of London, Hogwarts, and the rest of the Wizarding World, nothing compared to Bootle. Amit would say that nostalgia was a hell of a drug, but Elliot knew better. Nostalgia always disappointed in the end, but not Bootle. Not this place.

            And not this day.

            Elliot smiled freely and often. The furrowed brow that his mother would tease him for was gone. Without the noise of the castle and the city, without ten dozen eyes on him, Elliot felt his steps were lighter and more graceful. The wind danced in his long and flowing hair, and he laughed. He paused and put it up into two buns effortlessly, enjoying the feel of the curls in his hand. Another breeze ran over his arms, and he rubbed them to warm himself. His skin was smooth and soft, but the smell of lavender distracted him. From deep inside, laughter ripped through him. Not the embarrassing donkey laugh he sometimes did when he was nervous. This was light and melodious, like his being was a song, and that song was lighter than the breeze. He imagined the breeze carrying it off to the stars, though he knew that was impossible.

            He laughed again. The day was making him a poet.

            A stray hair tickled his ear, and no matter how many times he tucked it away, it came undone on this windy day. He tried to redo the buns, but when that didn’t work, he sighed and settled for a ponytail. That didn’t work either. Frustrated, he moved to one of the ponds to look at his reflection so he could do it right.

            As Elliot leaned over the water, she smiled at what she saw. At first, she feared it would be Olivia Snarzle’s face on her body again. But no. It was her ice blue eyes and dark brown hair, long and curly in a messy ponytail cocked to one side. Her sleeveless white blouse rippled in the breeze, and her skirt danced along with it. She watched the dark pleats of it with delight and did a little twirl, losing sight of herself for just a moment.

            When she returned to fix her hair, the slender face and full lips of her face morphed. At first, they swelled as though she’d been stung by a bee. But then her face erupted with hair. She watched as a beard grew instantaneously and didn’t stop. The hair atop her head shrank, and her blouse twisted into a heavy hoodie to cover her body.

            Elliot tried to scream, but nothing came out. The colors in the reflection dimmed, and the smell of lavender and rose, of honeysuckle and hyacinth, vanished. The world went to a Hogwarts’s grey. His skirt became the same baggy pair of pants he wore every day to class. His body stretched as though he was in a cartoon and someone had shoved a hose down his throat. Bloated and bubbling, he grew a foot taller and two feet wider.

            Then came the hair. Not just his beard or the hair on his head. But hair on his back, on his knuckles, and on his chest grew and grew. They went beyond their normal proportions, growing like weeds in sped up animation. Back hair sprouted from the neck of his shirt. Arm hair shot out of his sleeves. And not just hair where he would expect it. Hair sprouted from his forehead, from his palms, from his knees and elbows. Hair on hair on hair until it wasn’t Elliot Tanner in the pool but a wild and fat bear in Elliot Tanner’s clothes.

            They fit him perfectly.

            Only then could Elliot scream, and it ripped through the nightmare and echoed throughout the Gryffindor dorm.

***

            I sat in the classroom at the top of the North tower — Trelawney’s Wild Tea Shop — and blinked slowly, forcing myself to stay awake. I normally enjoyed Divinations lessons, but the dim crimson light from the scarf-covered lamps and the closed curtains did not create a good learning environment after a sleepless night. Trelawney’s incense and the roaring fire didn’t help either. So I was forced to hold my hand up while sitting at a tiny circular table — there were about twenty scattered throughout the “classroom” — wishing it were tea-leaf day so we could at least get a hit of caffeine before trying to read someone’s future. I’d even settle for coffee.

            We were all paired off with a Tarot deck. Trelawney had taken away our guidebooks that explained what each card meant, forcing us to practice “without the use of a net.” Amit was working with Olivia Snarzle, Maddie was working with Cedric Diggory, and I had the biggest hater of Divinations in the world: Asia Campbell. Of course, Asia was ignoring me entirely while she was supposed to be doing my Tarot reading, preferring to look back at Maddie eighteen times per second.

            “I pulled The Wheel of Fortune,” I said to her. “What does that mean?”

            “Huh?” Asia said, turning back to me. She was in the traditional all-black everything getup, though her black eyeliner and black lipstick looked a bit neater. I think I caught a hint of purple in her eyeshadow. Her hair was neater too, shinier and silkier than normal.

            I held up the card depicting a green shirt held on a loom by a riverside. On the loom was a huge wooden wagon wheel. It wasn’t the only version of The Wheel because Trelawney had several dozen different Tarot decks from different parts of the world with different artists.

            “What does it mean?” I said. “You know, do the assignment.”

            “Uh, right.” Asia grabbed the card and held it up close to her face. She managed five whole seconds of concentration before she turned back and looked at Maddie.

            “Merlin’s beard, woman,” I said. “Can you not concentrate for five minutes?”

            “Oh, shit. Right.” She looked flustered as she went back to my card.

            “You’re normally better than this.”

            “Not in Divinations,” she muttered.

            “Well you normally try harder to look like you’re good at this.”

            She smirked as her eyes roamed over the artwork. “I could say anything, and she’d buy it, you know?”

            “You couldn’t say that this means I left my quill in my dorm room.” I held up the quill.

            “I could say you’re afraid of losing your quill because you’re resistant to change.”

            “I didn’t pull the card upside down.”

            “Then maybe you will lose your quill soon, and you’ll have to rethink writing implements entirely.” She gasped. “It’ll be a scandal.” She looked up at me, her eyes wide and fake tears brimming in her eyes. “Would you resort to … resort to …” She leaned closer to me. “To pencils?” she whispered.

            I rolled my eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

            “This class is ridiculous.” She put my card down but didn’t look back at Maddie. “If this were theology or humanities or some other equally subjective topic, I’d accept it. But I’m actually going to be graded on how well I can predict the future with the same fifty-two cards?”

            “Seventy-eight,” I corrected.

            “Whatever.”

            “No. Not whatever. The fact is that people actually can predict the future with these cards. It would be rubbish if it didn’t work so often.”

            “Hindsight,” Asia said. “It’s all hindsight.”

            I didn’t have a response, and Asia made a smug snort before going back to the card. This was the most of her attention I’d had in almost a week since the incident at the staircase. There was no way I was going to waste this opportunity.

            “Speaking of hindsight,” I said, lowering my voice a tad. “Do you have any idea why the Polyjuice potion worked?”

            Asia’s eyes darted around the room, but she kept her face pointed at the card. “It didn’t work, just like I said it wouldn’t.”

            “It didn’t work for Amit. Why did it work for me?”

            “I dunno,” she said. Some of the swagger was out of her voice. “Maybe the spell can only grab one person at a time?”

            “It can see through Polyjuice potion but isn’t sophisticated enough to stop against multiple Peeping Toms?”

            Asia smirked. “Maybe he never thought anyone would be shameless enough to peek at girls with a friend. Masturbation is typically a solo activity.”

            “Gross.”

            “I’m not the one who called himself a Peeping Tom.”

            “I’m not. I was —”

            “Ooooh, Elliot. The Wheel of Fortune.” Trelawney put her hands on Asia’s shoulders while she stared at the card. “A time of change.”

            “Right,” Asia said. “Inevitable change like a wheel spinning.”

            “That’s right,” Trelawney said as though the comment had come from herself. She let go of Asia’s shoulders and stepped towards me. She put her hand on my forehead as though she were checking if I was running a fever. “Tell me, Elliot. Have you been having strange dreams lately?”

            Asia snorted. “All dreams are strange.”

            “Especially strange.” Trelawney pressed on. “Perhaps about transformation?”

            “Um, yeah,” I said. “Actually there was this one about —”

            “Oh!” Trelawney stepped away from me like my hand was on fire. She whipped around and stared at Asia as though she was a Dementor. “Your grandmother, child. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

            “What?”

            “I’m sorry. It will come soon.” Trelawney put her hands back on Asia’s shoulders, this time to console the young skeptic. “The news, that is.”

            Asia’s eyes widened. “Of my grandmother?”

            “That’s right.”

            “I should call her.” Asia tried to stand, but Trelawney pulled her in for a hug.

            “It’s alright, dear. All will unfold as it will.”

            Asia endured the hug as best she could. “All will unfold as it will,” she said without enthusiasm. Then — just as suddenly as it happened —Trelawney broke the hug, gasped again, and rushed off to inform another student of their loved one’s untimely demise.

            Asia wiped her shoulders as though she had cat dander on them — which knowing Trelawney, she probably did — and went back to writing her “reading” for me.

            “Aren’t you going to call your grandmother?”

            Asia shook her head. “Nah. Though I’d love to hear from her, she’s been dead for twenty years.”

            I snorted and pulled a card for Asia to do her reading. It was a hare on a hill with a dramatic moon in the background. I turned and showed it to her. “The Queen of Bows,” I said.

            Asia looked up from her writing. “The Hare?” she said.

            I nodded. “The Hare.”

            “I’m a bunny?”

            “Bunnies are regal.”

            “Bunnies are cowards.”

            “Hares box.”

            Asia shook her head. “Now I’m just imagining Bugs Bunny in boxing gloves.”

            I shrugged. “Whatever works for you. That’s you.”

            “Oh yeah? What does it mean?”

            “It’s not a bad thing,” Amit said to Olivia. The rest of the room turned to look at them.

            “It’s insecurity, deceit, and envy,” she said. Her hair was up in a messy ponytail that did nothing to tame the eternal curl of it. I thought of Madeline’s advice — that she should brush her hair more often — and wondered if it would lose its wonderful curl if she did.

            “Like feeling you’re a fake,” Amit said. “Not saying you are a fake.”

            “I’m not envious of anyone.”

            “Everyone is envious of someone,” Amit said. “That’s what this card is about, about knowing who you are and what you’re about. Knowing yourself. Or the flip in this case, not knowing yourself. Lying to yourself about yourself. Lying to others about —”

            “This is nonsense.” Olivia shook her head. “I’m not insecure about anything.”

            “Sure you’re not,” Asia said to herself. “It’s not like you hang out with Maddie hoping some of her awesome rubs off on you.”

            “See, that’s total hare talk,” I said. I started writing the reading down. “You’re an archetypal hare.”

            “Shut up.”

            I smirked as I wrote. The rest of the class went back to zoning out Amit and Olivia’s arguing as Trelawney went over to mediate between the two. Occasionally, my eyes darted over to them. Amit was talking, and Trelawney took a seat next to Amit. Both she and Olivia watched Amit like he was Buddha explaining the strands of the universe. Trelawney’s jaw hung limp, and Olivia’s eyes were watering as Amit kept explaining the Seven of Swords to her.

            Though my best friend was being brilliant — he just gets Divination for some weird reason — it wasn’t him I was watching. It was Olivia. All week, I couldn’t help stealing glances at her. Amit told me to stop staring, but he didn’t understand. I wasn’t staring. Every time I looked over at her, it was a different experience entirely. Sometimes I thought she was the prettiest girl in the world. I was struck dumb by it. Like, how could no one else see that she was stunning and mythical and ethereal all at once? It was times like that I thought I had a crush on her like Amit kept saying I did. Though I had no idea how I could ever explain what got me interested in her. “I pretended to be you via Polyjuice potion, and once I was in your body, I knew I wanted to be in your body?”

            I cringed at my own bad joke.

            But I don’t think I had a crush on her. Sometimes I’d look at her, and yeah, sure, she was beautiful. But it wasn’t the kind of beautiful you wanted to kiss. It was something else. Like I wanted to be her friend and have her teach me her ways and go running through the woods with dryads and nymphs together until some of her wildness rubbed off on me. Like Asia said, maybe Olivia’s awesome would rub off on me.

            And other times I’d look at her and think I was looking at myself. A strange kind of envy and sadness struck me. I’d be angry that she was wearing my face — a face she didn’t deserve or appreciate. That would mingle with the obvious realization that it wasn’t my face. It was her face. It would never be my face. The Polyjuice potion was a one-time bad idea, and I would never know what it’s like to be that beautiful again.

            My eyes went back to Asia. She was turned around in her seat, looking at Madeline — who was brazenly not doing her assignment and pretending that walking around the cluster of circular tables was the same as predicting the future.

            “So you’re calling her Maddie now?”

            “Huh?” Asia said. She whirled around to face me.

            “Only her friends call her Maddie.”

            “That’s what she prefers,” Asia said.

            “Yeah, but she only corrects her friends.” I put down my quill and leaned forward. “Are you two friends?” I stretched out the last word and leaned closer until Asia looked away in embarrassment.

            “Shut it,” she said.

            I laughed and sat back in my seat. “This explains why she got so touchy when I asked her what her ideal date with a boy would be.”
            “Yeah.” Asia went back to work, and I mimicked her. “She thought you were making fun of her.”

            “I wasn’t. Amit had the cue cards.”

            Asia shook her head. “I can’t believe you morons thought cue cards would work.”

            “I didn’t. I thought Amit would work.”

            “Him?” Asia jabbed her thumb towards Amit without looking up. “He can’t open his mouth without putting his foot and every other foot in a twelve-kilometer distance inside it.”

            “He’s earnest,” I said. “Not everyone can be cold and calculating.”

            Asia looked up from her work and glared at me.

            “Classic hare move,” I said.

            “You think he could have made a meaningful relationship that started with a lie?”

            “You tell me. Does Madeline know her hero staged the whole thing? That you let the banshee into the girls’ dormitory in order to —”

            Asia lunged over the tiny table and clamped her hand over my mouth. The Tarot cards between us scattered and fluttered to the floor. “Shut it,” she said. “You can’t say —”

            “Or what?” I pulled my hand away. “You’ll turn Amit in? He’s already got detention, and you can’t do much to me without me explaining who really made the potion. You even forgot to clean up the cauldron. McGonagall thinks it’s me, but all I have to —”

            “I was busy, okay?”

            “Snogging?”

            Asia looked away. “Okay, just … just …” She shook her head. “Don’t tell anyone. It’s better for everyone if no one knows anything. You don’t want detention any more than I do.”

            “It’s not detention you’re afraid of,” I said. I nodded towards Madeline. “It’s her knowing the truth.”

            “Please,” she said. “I’m begging you. I’ll help you with your homework — though not this bullshit Divinations. Oh! Charms. I know you’re rubbish at charms. I can help you with your wand technique and —”

            I stopped listening. Part of me regretted what I was saying immediately. Sure, I was angry at Asia. Not only did the Polyjuice potion only sort of work, but she had totally bailed on us. She left the cauldron for McGonagall to find because she finally had the attention of Madeline Snapfire. She ignored us entirely when we tried to find out what happened. But I didn’t care if she dated Madeline, especially now that I knew there was no way Madeline was ever going to date Amit. And I didn’t want to blackmail her. She didn’t have anything that I —

            “Potions!” she said. Some people looked towards her, but she was too frantic to be stopped now. “I can help you with potions. My notebook! I still have it. I can show you my annotations and help you with —”

            My eyes darted to Olivia Snarzle. She was crying and clinging to Trelawney who was also crying while they both spoke with Amit.

            “Polyjuice Potion,” I said. “I need more.”

            Asia’s sputtering came to a standstill. “What?”

            “I need more Polyjuice potion.”

            “For what?”

            I shook my head. “Doesn’t matter.”

            “I can’t —” Asia looked around the room. She licked her lips and leaned in closer. “I can’t make you more PJ potion while McGonagall and Filch are looking for PJ potion makers.”

            “PJ potion?”

            Her eyes narrowed. “You don’t want to get caught, do you?”

            I looked over to Olivia. She was blowing her nose while Trelawney shook Amit’s hand. The cold envy burned inside of me. But that wasn’t all. There was a hunger I couldn’t describe, as though all my life I’d been starving and last week was the first time I’d discovered what food was.

“Correction,” I said, looking back to Asia. “You don’t want me to get caught. If I do, I’ll turn you in and then Madeline will learn all about that night.”

            “Elliot. Please.”

            I shook my head. “You don’t understand,” I said. Now the desperation was in my voice. “I need it. Please.”

            “I can’t — I —”

            I reached out and grabbed her hand. She didn’t flinch or pull away. “Please,” I said. “This isn’t for Amit. It isn’t about Madeline. It’s for me. Please.”

            “I can’t risk it,” she said. “If I’m caught helping you —”

            “Then just your notes. I’ll make it myself,” I said. “Please. Asia. You don’t understand. I need to get back to —”

            “To what? The girls’ dormitory? Because I don’t think it will work a second time and —”

            “Get the potion back,” I said. “I meant to say I need to get the potion back.”

            Asia looked at me for a long time, then turned back and glanced at Madeline. She looked back at me and licked her lips. “Fine. Just the notes and the recipe.”

            My smile spread so wide, I thought my face was going to burst. “Really?”

            “Yeah, but then we’re done, okay?”

            “Absolutely,” I said. I grabbed her hand and shook it. “Thank you so so much. Asia, really. You have no idea what this means to —”

            Asia pulled her hand free of my grip. “I’m serious, Elliot. No more. I won’t be blackmailed into oblivion because I was roped into Amit’s stupid plan to —”

            “I promise,” I said, holding up my right hand for my oath. “I won’t bother you again about that night or the potion. I just need a chance. I swear. We were all being stupid, and I think it’s great you and Madeline are dating or snogging or whatever and —”

            “Little bit quieter,” Asia said through her teeth. “You remember that we could get in trouble if —”

            “Right. Sorry.” I put my hand down. “Sorry.”

            “Get writing,” she said. “We’ll do it quickly and be done with it.”

            I grabbed a fresh sheet of parchment and started scribbling down the potion as neatly and as quickly as I could while she whispered it to me. When I got to the bottom — to the part where you put in the essence of the person you want to become — I looked over at Olivia, smiling like an idiot. She was sitting at her table, alone. Her eyes were red and puffy, but still they were delicate and almond-shaped and sharp and beautiful. Her makeup was running around the eyes, but I still wondered how she did it. I wanted to know what it was like to make yourself look more beautiful or captivating with a little powder and a brush. It was its own magic, I swear. And with this potion, I could figure it out. I could learn their secrets and —

            “Attention, class,” Trelawney said from the front of the room. It wasn’t properly the front, but the small tables formed an atrium of sorts, and Trelawney took center stage. Standing next to her and looking both proud and embarrassed was Amit.

            It took us a while, but eventually the whole class turned and gave the professor our attention. Asia grabbed the parchment from me and finished writing the recipe with her annotations while I watched whatever Trelawney was interested in. Amit stood next to the professor, constantly smoothing out his trousers in what I assumed was an attempt to alleviate sweaty hands. He rocked back and forth on his heels while Trelawney told us that he had done an exceptional reading for Olivia. She noticed that we were all struggling to transform the information the Tarot cards revealed about the present into any noticeable or reliable predictions about the future. Amit was going to demonstrate how it should be done.

            “Now,” Trelawney said, “I need someone to volunteer for a reading.” She turned to me before my hand could get into the air. “Not you, Elliot. I’m afraid Amit knows a bit too much about you.”

            I shrugged and gave Amit a look to say, “I tried.” He smiled back, but he didn’t seem to mind that he couldn’t take the easy way out. I’ll admit there was a strange confidence underneath the bubbling nerves that I’d never seen on Amit.

            “How about someone I don’t know very well,” Amit said. His voice quavered a bit as he spoke.

            “In your sixth year, I should think you know almost everyone,” Trelawney added.

            “Almost,” Amit said. He took a deep breath. “How about Madeline? We never talk to each other.”

            All eyes turned to Madeline as my stomach dropped down to my knees. “What is he doing?” Asia whispered. She slid the recipe back to me and started paying attention. 

            “No idea,” I said. “Nothing smart.”

            Asia turned back to me. “Does he know?”

            “Know what?”

            “About me and Maddie.”

            “That you two —”

            Asia nodded.

            “I don’t think so. It’s hard to say. It’s mostly been moping for the past week. Why? You don’t think he would — not in front of — oh no.”

            But the rage in Asia’s belly didn’t compare to the dread that rushed through Elliot’s veins. They both knew that Amit was a romantic and easily seduced by overly grand gestures. He had enough foolishness to make it even odds on whether he read Madeline’s fortune or proposed to her in front of the whole class.

            I blink my eyes to try and clear my blurry vision. Around me, everyone is watching Amit as Madeline nervously comes up to sit next to him.

            “Did you hear that?” I ask.

            Asia ignored Elliot’s question. Time slowed down for him as Madeline slowly approached the front of the room. It was the kind of spell even Muggles are familiar with — they were gripped in the moment, frozen by some kind of swell, the momentum of time. It was as though the whole world was cursed to move in slow-motion, and Elliot’s curse was to be the one standing outside of the spell, isolated.

            “Seriously,” I said as I leaned forward and grabbed Asia’s hand. “Do you hear that?”

            When Madeline reached the front of the classroom, Trelawney gestured to a small circular table. On it were two tall candles, a periwinkle cloth, a smoking box that held incense, and a Tarot deck with white and silver backs. Madeline and Amit both sat.

            “Asia,” I hissed.

            “What?” she turned around, shaking her head slightly. “What do you want?”

            “There’s a voice. Do you hear a voice?”

            “What are you —”

            “Quiet class,” Trelawney said. “Asia and Elliot. That means you.”

            Asia and I looked to see Trelawney with her arms spread to summon everyone’s attention. There was something wrong with her eyes. They looked green — even in the red light of the room — but I didn’t remember her having green eyes.

            Amit shuffled the deck expertly while Madeline watched. In truth, Madeline never thought much of Amit Singh, but there was a cute awkwardness mingled with a subtle confidence she found charming.

            At the front of the room, Madeline turned out and smiled nervously at the audience of rapt students. Her big brown eyes were wet, and they caught the candlelight making them glow a soft green.

            “Green?” I whispered.

            “It’s fine,” Amit said. His voice was deep and rich. “Just relax.”

            Madeline blushed and looked away. Some of the girls in the room giggled.

            “Any pressing questions?” Amit asked.

            “Oh, I don’t know,” Madeline said. “Not anything in particular.”

            “How about love?” Amit asked.

            He received a chorus of “ooooooohs,” from his classmates. Even Madame Trelawney was sucked into his performance, waiting to see what he could divine about Madeline’s love life.

            Madeline shook her head. “Not much to say about that.”

            Madeline looked out to Asia, but then — as though something were wrong with her neck — she slowly looked back to Amit. The movements were jerking, as though it pained her to do so. From where I sat, I thought there was a faint glow around her as it happened.

            “Then let’s see what the fates say,” Amit said. His bassy voice rumbled over Madeline and made her skin tingle.

            “What is this?” Asia said.

            “You can hear it?” I said.

            “I can’t look away,” Asia whispered. “Why is this happening?”

            Amit flipped over the first card and laughed heartily. His sonorous and smooth baritone compelled Madeline to laugh along with him. With a flourish any magician would be proud of, Amit lifted the card and showed it to the rest of the class. It was two figures, neither clearly a man or woman, embraced in a tender kiss.

            “The lovers,” Amit said with a smile. “Is there someone special on your heart?”

            Madeline looked back at Asia. Her eyes were ruined with the faint green glow that obscured all softness and color. Asia gasped, “Her eyes,” she said. “What’s wrong with —”

            “No,” Madeline said.  

            The green glow burned brighter over her eyes until they smoldered with a green smoke that curled up and over her face.

            “Not yet then,” Amit said. “It looks as though love is in your future.” Amit looked at Professor Trelawney and gave her a game show host’s smile. “In fact,” he said, “perhaps love is sitting right in front of you.”

            “What’s happening,” Asia said. Tears streamed down her face, but she couldn’t look away. “What is this?”

            “I don’t know,” I said. I tried to stand, but my legs weren’t working. Like Asia, I was forced to sit and watched as some sort of puppet show played out in front of us.

            “I think it’s a curse,” Asia said. “Doesn’t it feel like a curse?”

            At the front of the class, Amit had moved around the table and got down on one knee. He was professing his undying love to Madeline in front of the entire class, explaining that he had always loved her, that he was her future. His voice didn’t sound like his own. It was more of a farce or a stereotype of some Bollywood star. But that didn’t seem to bother the rest of the class. It was as though only Asia and I could think for ourselves while Amit was on script.

            In our second year at Hogwarts, we had a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher that was absolutely convinced that the Ministry of Magic was controlling people’s minds to think that You-Know-Who was actually gone. She was adamant that the only Dark Arts we needed protection from was government and bureaucracy, and as such, she dedicated herself to teaching us Occlumency — the art of defending our minds from magical influences and mind-reading. She only taught us the basics before suspecting Dumbledore of working with the Ministry to suppress her curriculum, but I tried her techniques now, trying to resist the curse holding us in place.

            I emptied my mind as best I could. I tried to become detached to my circumstances. Instead of looking at them with emotionality, I observed them as one would look at a stick floating down a river. Amit was professing his love to Madeline in front of the class as a big romantic gesture. Professor Trelawney and the class were caught up in the spectacle and romance of the whole thing. Madeline seemed nervous and reluctant to accept Amit’s advances, but she wasn’t looking at Asia — her girlfriend. She was watching Amit with her burning green eyes. The curse might have been cast by Amit if he were a powerful dark wizard, but he could barely cast a levitation charm without some snooty first-year correcting his pronunciation.

            I wasn’t attached to this scene. Amit’s success or embarrassment was just a fact of the universe, like the rate of acceleration due to gravity. I wasn’t afraid of the curse holding an entire classroom hostage in the safest castle in England. I was sitting and watching, floating in front of it all. I was detached and —

            A high-pitched whining cut through my mind, destroying my concentration. All at once, emotions flooded back into me, none stronger than fear. Something was controlling us — all of us — I saw it as clearly as though we were characters in a book, forced to go along with something preposterous. But something was wrong with me. I could stand outside of it like the Gryffindor Staircase, like —

            The pain intensified, burning my ears as they popped repeatedly as though I was plummeting and ascending thousands of feet per second on some kind of cruel yo-yo.

            In the back of the room, Elliot Turner let out a scream and held his ears as he crumpled to the floor. Students turned from the brokenhearted Amit and watched as Elliot howled about the curse, the world’s curse.

            “Can anyone hear that voice?” he shouted, sounding sick and deranged. He rose to his feet, still covering his ears. “How can you not hear it?” he said.

            Asia Campbell rushed to his side, but he staggered away. She reached out to help him, but he pushed over the table and scattered the Tarot cards over the floor. A single card hovered in front of him, burning green. Elliot let go of his ears and reached for the card, his fingers trembling. It was someone falling from a tree that had been struck by lightning, flames licking its branches. The person was of indiscriminate gender, but they fell into a black abyss.

            It was The Blasted Oak. The Tower. The Hanged Man.

            Elliot's fingers curled around the card, and the pain doubled. He let out another howl of pain, and then collapsed as the world turned dark.