As a witch, you worked hard for many of your talents: charms, potions, transfiguration--all of those things were taught. But you were naturally gifted with something else. Visions. Foresight, dreams that you couldn't explain that came true later. Madame Trelawney sensed it in you third year in her class, but you passed it off as false.

But one dream in particular, was reoccurring since the time of your first year in Hogwarts when the Philosopher's Stone was discovered and destroyed. You would dream of a boy, a bit older than you. In your dream, things always started the same. You'd land in the soft grass of a garden, in the middle of a hedge with a fountain. Out of the corner of your eye, you'd see a glimpse of him before chasing him. Eventually you'd meet chest to chest, panting, laughing, smiling, and he'd lean in, and--you'd wake.

Those dreams hadn't come in some time. But now in your fourth year, when Harry Potter's name comes out of the Goblet of Fire, you feel a prickle on your neck, and that night, is the first night in a long time that you dream of him.