Dark Come Soon

That was the first prophecy that Alexandra Yaotl Ávila had ever made. Until that moment, Alexandra had been under the impression that prophecies were nothing more than delicately phrased lies which witches whom were desperate for fame or witches whom were mentally perturbed, told. But after Alexandra had uttered those words in a trance, she came to believe the stories that she had read in ancient texts.

Alexandra scanned the content of those stories, dissecting every single line in an attempt to discover a hidden message that would help her better understand just who she was, but try as she did, those stories told her nothing of importance. All they spoke of was the prophecies. They elaborated on the prophecies, explaining them with great depth but the seers that had delivered them, were spoken of only in passing.

The lack of information caused Alexandra to grow frustrated and reclusive. She pulled away from her friends, fearing that they would witness her predict a prophecy or worse, that she would somehow harm them as she did so. Alexandra didn’t know whether or not she could potentially become violent during the process, but she would rather not risk it, because a witch that is out of sorts is always a threat, even to those whom she most cares for.

There was only one person that knew of Alexandra’s ability.

It was her father, Andrés Tonauac Ávila. He had been there when she had given her first prophecy. He was the one that had informed her of what had happened when she had fallen into her trance and since that fateful day in October, he had been her source of strength, the one Alexandra turned to when the fear became too much to endure.

Andrés had always known that there was a possibility his daughter would be endowed with a strong inner eye that could see into future. That was something that Alexandra’s mother had been able to do. She had done it so well that she had even managed to predict one of the single most important prophecies of the twentieth century, but although Andrés knew what his former wife was capable of, he had forced himself into believing that that ability would skip his daughter, that his Alexandra would be normal but on the eve of her sixteenth birthday it became obvious to him that she wasn’t.

Wanting to help her get better, he bought her all the books that he could find on the subject in hopes that it would give her insight to it. That failed. There was nothing in the books that helped so Andrés sought out seers in America, but those seers turned out to be frauds and they were once again left on their own.

As the months passed Alexandra grew more and more reclusive, completely shunning everyone outside her family. She was a ghost of the person she had once been, but that’s the way she wanted it. And as strange as it sounds, she adapted very well to this change in lifestyle because although she was alone for a great part of the day, she was hardly ever lonely. Her books kept her company. They transported her to far off lands, to days gone by and she lost herself in them.

Andrés hated seeing his once social butterfly of a daughter, cooped up in her room. There were numerous instances, in which he tried to get her to reconnect with her former friends, but Alexandra was stubborn, it was a trait they shared.

By mid June of 1996, Andrés decided that it was time to reach out to Sybill Trelawney, the woman that he had severed ties with sixteen years ago. It was a difficult decision for Andrés to make. He had vowed never to be in her presence again. As a father he felt himself incapable of being in the same room as the woman that had once tried to kill their daughter, but he knew that there was no other choice.

Sybill was a legitimate seer and Alexandra needed answers.

So on June 21, 1996 he wrote a letter to Sybill, asking if they might be able to meet up for a chat. His letter was soon answered and within the week, he apparated to Hogsmeade to explain the situation to her. On the morning he was scheduled to visit her, he took his time getting dressed. He picked his finest clothes, wanting to show her that he was doing well in his life. When he saw Sybill sitting at the bar in her outrageous clothing, he had to actively stop the grin that threatened to erupt across his face.

He slowly made his way towards her, stopping when he reached the stool beside her. That was when he spoke her name, it wasn’t declared loudly, it was uttered softly, much like one would utter a prayer but it was loud enough for her to hear. And when his deep voice traveled into her ears, she felt the pitter patter of her heart speed up. Sybill attempted to stand gracefully, but the excitement was far too much for her and she ended up spilling her drink all over his shirt.

She grew frantic, repeating that she was terribly sorry at least seventeen times before Andrés had a chance to reassure that it was alright. Sybill eventually calmed down enough for them to walk to the back of the Three Broomsticks where they slid into a booth to begin their conversation. Sybill immediately inquired after Alexandra.

Andrés reached into his pocket. He pulled out his wallet which he then opened in order to show Sybill the most recent picture of her daughter. It was a picture that had been taken a few months back when the pair had renovated their garden. In it, Alexandra sat in the midst of the field of sunflowers, with a smile so bright that it moved Sybill to tears.

“She’s beautiful,” Sybill had whispered, her hands trembling ever so slightly as she clutched the photograph.

“She’s cut her hair since then,” commented Andrés, his soft Spanish accent still present. “It’s a little longer than mine, not by much though.”

“Why?”

“Not really sure. All Alex said was that she was bored and that it seemed like a good idea at the time.” Andrés pulled out another photo from his wallet to show her. “That’s the usual excuse I get from her but that’s not uncommon with teenagers. Though I think that the things most teenagers do are worst than the things Alex does. They have sex and do drugs. She just cuts her hair and paints on the walls.”

“She paints?” her eyes twinkled with love. Painting was a most beloved passion of hers.

“All the time,” Andrés chuckled softly. “I always find myself having to paint our walls on Sunday’s because she’s constantly painting murals on them. That’s something she got from you because Merlin knows I can’t do anything remotely artistic.”

“You can’t . . . I remember the stick figures drew when we were younger. They were awful.”

“I thought you said they were inspiring.”

“We were dating then . . . I had to be polite.”

“No, you didn’t.”

A faint blush colored her cheeks. “I wanted to.”

“Alex blushes just like you.”

“Does she really?”

Andrés nodded. “She also has your voice . . . very soft and ethereal.” He cleared his throat. “So about what we came here for.”

“What did we come here for? You sent a letter asking to meet but gave no reason other than your wanting to discuss Alexandra. Are we discussing custody or what?”

“Not custody,” he answered quickly. “The thing is . . . I, well . . . she sort of inherited your ability.”

“To see?” her voice was smaller than usual.

Andrés nodded as he pulled out a folded paper from his wallet. “This is a prophecy she made the day before her sixteenth birthday. It talks about the Dark Lord and the Ancient House of Black but I don’t know about the House of Black so I have no means of knowing whether or not it’s come true.”

“The House of Black?” repeated Sybill, her hands instinctively pressing against one another. “What did it say about it?”

“Read it for yourself.” The paper was handed to her.

Sybill snatched the paper from his hands, her eyes hungrily devouring the words on the tattered page. She read it through twice. At the end of the second reading, her blood ran cold. “Everything on this page happened.”

Andrés brows hitched upwards, “When?”

“Just last week . . . Sirius Black, the last male from the House of Black was killed by his cousin, Bellatrix . . . Harry Potter mourned him and the Dark Lord marked his return.” Sybill scooted closer to him. “Has she made any other predictions? Anything at all?”

“A few . . .”

“Do you have them with you?”

“No.”

“And why not?” hissed Sybill.

“Because they already came true,” he met her gaze.

Sybill choked on her breath. She struggled to regain control over herself. “How is she doing?” she asked once she had steadied her breathing. “Have there been any changes?”

“She doesn’t socialize with anyone outside the family. It’s taken quite the toll on her.”

“Fear . . .”

“What?”

“She’s afraid of herself,” elaborated Sybill, “Afraid of whom she is and what she might do . . . you have to bring her here so that I can help. I'm not a great seer. Not like Cassandra was but I can help Alexandra. I can help.”

“Why does Alex have to come to you? You should go to her.”

“Andrés, I was just reinstated as Professor of Divination. I'm going to share the position with another so we have to develop our course this summer. I can’t leave, but she can come here.”

“Not by herself.”

“I won’t hurt her.”

“There’s no guarantee that you won’t.” he refused to leave his daughter alone with her.

“Then come.”

“It’s not that easy. I have a job at the Los Angeles Hospital. I can’t just take a few days . . .”

“Not days, months.”

“There’s no way in hell that it’ll take months! You should be able to teach her in a few days, a week tops.”

“This isn’t something that is learned overnight. It’s a process that takes time and if you want to help her then you have to understand that.”

“She starts school in late August.”

“Then I would suggest transferring her here . . . I can ask the headmaster to let her in.”

Andrés was not keen on her idea. “Alex has never been to a boarding school. She would hate it.”

“If she’s never been to a boarding school, how can you be certain that she’d hate it?” retorted Sybill.

“I know my daughter.” Andrés grew defensive. “I know that she hates being around people because she’s afraid of what she might do. I know that she only feels safe when she’s at home, so don’t sit there and tell me that she might like it, because you don’t know anything about her.”

“And that’s my fault?” she hissed. “You took her from me.”

“Only after the court awarded me sole custody because you tried to kill her when she was two months old, so don’t act like you’re the victim here.”

“I’ve told you time and time again that that was an accident.”

“An accident that sent her to the hospital for a week.”

Her body cringed involuntarily at the tragic memory. “I was out of sorts . . . the trance had me – “

“And that’s exactly why I won’t leave you alone with her.”

“So then what do you propose we do? Because I can’t help her if she’s not at Hogwarts.”

“I don’t know. God . . . I don’t know.”

Sybill reached out to his hand, covering it with her own. “She needs guidance.”

“I know she does.”

“Then let me help. I can teach her the other arts that come with a strong inner eye. I can help her better understand if you just let her come to Hogwarts.”

“She won’t like it,” he stared intently at their hands.

“But she’ll grow used to it. As for you, I remember Dumbledore stating that he wanted to take on a full time healer in case anything happened at Hogwarts. I could tell him about you. Maybe he’d hire you.”

“You would go through all that trouble?”

Sybill took her hand back, nodding as she did so.

“Why?” there was no malice in his tone, only sincere curiosity.

“Because it’ll most likely make the transition easier on Alexandra,” was her response. “I may not have raised her but I do want what’s best for her. You know that, don’t you?”

Andrés nodded.

“Then go home and let me take care of things.”

Take care of things, she did.

By the time August rolled around, Sybill had secured Andrés the position of healer at Hogwarts and had enrolled Alexandra at Hogwarts.

Andrés was thrilled; Alexandra, not so much.

She hated the fact that she was going to leave her family behind. Most specifically, her grandmother Aurelia whom had been the mother she’d never had. Although she was unhappy with her father’s decisions, she didn’t complain aloud or passive aggressively, she knew that as much as she hated it, it was for her own good; this was the only way that she would be able to conquer herself.

On the morning that they were set to depart to Hogwarts, Alexandra was awoken by Aurelia. The elderly woman shook her granddaughter gently for a good three minutes before deciding that it was a waste of time. So she spanked her. Alexandra’s eyes snapped wide open as she turned to glare at the perpetrator. When she saw the playful grin on her grandmother’s face, she merely rubbed her ass and shook her head in disapproval.

Aurelia told Alexandra to jump into the shower so that she could get ready. Alexandra protested, claiming that she was starving and was unfit to function before she ate. Aurelia merely laughed and reminded her that she and her father would be having dinner at Hogwarts within an hour. That statement caused Alexandra to burst from her bed and into the shower. She scrubbed her body, making sure that every inch was clean and when she finished. She slipped on the dress that Aurelia had laid out for her.

The dress in question wasn’t one that she was particularly fond of. The color was a bright coral which made her break into a cold sweat but she had to wear it because according to everyone in the family, she had to look nice for her mother since she hadn’t seen her in over sixteen years. It was that thought that Alexandra clung to as she dressed and when she finished she applied her makeup and applied the product to her hair.

“Are you ready?” bellowed Andrés from outside her room.

“Yeah,” Alexandra threw the door open, allowing her father to step inside.

“Excited for this?”

“More like anxious.”

“There’s no reason to be anxious. It’s all going to be fine. You’re going to meet your mom and the headmaster and we’re going to all talk. It’ll be good.”

“Just because something’s good, that doesn’t mean that one shouldn’t be anxious for it,” she whispered softly. “I'm just scared that things aren’t going to work out and that I’ll never know anything.”

“There’s one thing you know, a universal truth if you will.”

“What is it?”

“Que te quiero mucho (that I love you) and I'm going to be there so it’ll be fine.” Andrés smiled reassuringly. “Here are the flowers for your mom.”

“I'm giving her flowers?”

“Yeah.”

“I thought I was just meeting her, not that I was putting my nose up her bum.”

“Aye Alexandra, she went through a lot of trouble to get this together so yes, you’re going to have to give her flowers but I don’t want you to kiss her ass. Just be respectful and mindful of your environment.”

“I will, dad.”

“Did you say goodbye to your Nana?”

“Mhm.”

Andrés scanned the room one last time. “Let’s get going then.”