Thanks Connie Abby does have quite the burden to bear, doesn't she?

I had stayed in Dumbledore's office for about ten minutes, no one speaking or even moving. We were statues, stuck in this moment that we knew would change our lives forever. After a while I couldn't take it anymore, so I got up and left, closing the door quietly behind me.

The future was a tricky business, and sometimes I wished people didn't have the ability to see into it. I wished we could all just remain in ignorant bliss, no knowledge of what the future could hold or what the actual consequences of our big decisions would be. It makes us timid, afraid to choose the way we want to because that may just be the decision that makes the prophecy come true. Or is it all just a hit or miss? Are they inevitable? Trapping us in a predetermined path, and prophecies being some twisted game to make us think we actually have a say in our lives.

The walk back to the corridor was slow. I didn't know how I was going to face them. I didn't know how I was going to keep this from them. Should I keep it from them? That since I was sixth months old I was destined to die for a boy I hadn't even met yet? The boy who I loved deeper than anyone I knew?

Emotionally I couldn't handle this. I couldn't handle knowing just enough to make me tentative, uncertain as to what the right plan of action was. How was I going to handle this?

I rounded a corner only to find myself smacking straight into Professor Umbridge.

"Do watch where you are going Miss Carson," said said to me in that sickeningly sweet tone of hers. Of course, I would bump in to her right at this moment.

"Sorry Professor," I mumbled, not sounding sincere at all, before going to move around her. She side stepped to block my path.

"I'm sorry, I didn't quite hear you," she said, an attempt at a look of innocence on her face.

I stared at her. "Actually I know you heard, so if you don't mind I'm a little busy."

She raised her eyebrows at me. "Miss Carson have you learned nothing from our detention exercise the other evening?" Instinctively I felt the freshly scarred over skin on my hand tingle. I was going to kill her.

Deciding not to answer I went to move around her again, but instead she side stepped again, blocking off my path.

"I asked you a question," Umbridge said, losing all trace of mock kindness in her voice.

"Well I don't have an answer for you, so move!"

Umbridge looked as if I had slapped her in the face. "Detention tomorrow evening. Perhaps more lines will get the message across," she hissed at me.

I went to move but she continued to block my path. She wanted me to respond to her original question, I could pick the thought straight from her brain, but I didn't want to. Of all the things going through my life right now, she was the icing on the cake.

"Professor Umbridge I am going to ask you kindly, one more time to move or so help me I will make you move!"

Umbridge opened her mouth to say something in outrage but she couldn't. No voice was coming out. She reached up and grabbed her throat, unable to take in a breath or make any sound come out. I stared at her, confused as to what was happening.

Umbridge stumbled sideways, falling into the wall, her hand still pressed to her neck, her face getting white like she had just passed out and woken up. As I stared at her, no idea as to what was happening or what to do, I noticed that her hand was starting to turn blue, the same color one gets when they have been out in the snow too long.

As I looked closer I realized that her neck was literally freezing. Little icicle marks, like the ones cars or houses get on their windows, were forming along her neck and around the spot where her hand was. She was freezing from the inside out.

"Miss Carson, what is going on?"

I turned to see Professor McGonagall walking briskly towards me, stopping when she saw Professor Umbridge.

"Professor, I don't know what is happening..."

Professor McGonagall bent in to look at Umbridge's neck before turning to look at me, her eyes wide.

"Abby, go to my office and wait there while I take Professor Umbridge to the hospital."

Professor McGonagall wrapped her arm around Umbridge's shoulder and led her off, mumbling spells that I assumed were trying to stop whatever was happening to her neck.

Had I done that? How could I have done that? I knew Harry had blown up his like a balloon in a fit of rage our third year, but making someone basically freeze to death...from the inside out?

I stood there in the dead hallway, confused and lost beyond belief, before I crumpled to the floor and quietly sobbed.